Well, Wayne State called again this morning.
I received two messages. One was from the admissions office, telling me that my application had been received and that I had been accepted into the college. The other was from the president's assistant, apologizing and telling me that she hoped I would still attend.
Funny how threatening to go to another school suddenly gets results. I feel kind of torn though. They have things that I want that I can't get elsewhere.
Like Italian. I really want to learn how to read, write and speak Italian. And they have Italian there.
The other thing is that I still am wavering between journalism and art. Wayne has that awesome painting program. I'd like to go someplace where I could take a little of both at first until I figure out for certain. That's my one hesitation about UM-Dearborn. They have the most awesome journalism program but they don't have a fine arts program, just art history. Madonna is sort of in between. They have a fine arts program which is decent, but general. Although the art teachers I met seemed very nice and it looked like it would be a very fun, creative environment. The journalism program also looks good, though not great. On the other hand, they've been so nice to me and I did like the overall environment of the school, so I'm a bit torn. I couldn't take Italian, though. I could take Spanish and they have a summer study abroad program in Spain, which could be cool. So I'm not sure what to do. I think I might just sit in on classes in each of the schools and try to get a sense for what the education would be like, outside of the admissions office. I guess admissions people can be good or they can be horrible, and it just depends. I think you can tell a bit about the school from the admissions, but I think there's still a lot you can't tell. You need to get to know their policies, the faculty, the other students.
So I was thinking today about what a psycho magnet I am.
And I am.
The boy never believed me, he thought I was just being a bit sensitive. Then, we were at a bar in Chicago called the Map Room. He wound up talking to this really cool guy that was into filmmaking and all sorts of fun stuff. I wound up talking to his insane friend, this man who had lived in his van in Tucson with his German Shepherd and was somehow shocked that it had been so hot and didnt understand why the cops wouldnt just let him camp in his van in the park with his dog and tried to tell me why I shouldn't go to movies because movies are artificial human contact whereas we were making real human contact right there in that bar, and I didn't know how to explain to him that I would rather interesting, fun artificial contact than listen to another one of his diatribes.
After that, the boy believed me that I was a crazy magnet.
In fact, I'm surprised that when that club got busted, I hadn't decided to check it out and been hired that very night. Because that's the kind of thing that would happen to me. I would innocently be working my first night on the job, and then the cops would burst in armed to the teeth, with the news cameras right behind them, and I would be saying repeatedly "it's my first day!" which would make the cops be nice to me, since everyone automatically understands anything on your first day, I would leave, thoroughly traumatized but basically all right and never come back. Because, see, that's the kind of thing that happens in my life. If there's a crazy person or a fucked up situation in a fifty mile radius, it will find its way to me. (Or I to it)
See, I'm not shy and cautious because I'm insecure. I'm shy because I have learned that the craziness will find its way to me.
No reason to go out of my way to invite it.
Nope, leaving the house is effort enough.