That place.

Location: Toys “R” Us
Scene: A little child looks longingly at this awesome toy he really wants, but can’t have.

Moving on…

There’s this place I’ve always wanted to be at. It’s the place where most cool things happen. It’s the place where something impressive happens almost as if everyday. It’s a place where rebelliousness is not just encouraged, it’s demanded.

It’s awe-inspiring. I’ve had it on my mind for I can’t remember how long. I will continue to have it on my mind for I don’t know how long. Twice I wanted to go to that place, but they sent me the nicest go-to-hell responses I’ve ever gotten: “We’re unable to have you here because of the unusually high blah blah blah.”

The little child is me, and that toy (i.e. that place) is Stanford. Respect.

A couple of weeks ago I met with my admissions counsellor of sorts, and he told me mincing no words, “I’m extremely sad you didn’t get into Stanford.” I responded, “Yeah, but do you think their admissions committee gives a rat’s ass about me?” :D

If I ever apply to grad schools again, I already know the first name on that list.

(This is something I should’ve written about long time ago, but forgot. piscianemperor’s latest post reminded me to finally do it.)