Bitch about college apps

Having to write college applications fucking sucks more than anything else has fucked sucked in my entire life. Read all about it here http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?threadid=51462. Every day I live, breath, eat, and shit college apps. When will this nightmare end. My god why the fuck do colleges make us write this inane essays? Arn’t these people sick of reading about people’s most important experiences. There has to be a better way to do this. Please feel free to post, and bitch along with me my brothers. I know I’ll be back with more. Unfortunatly I’m kinda tired right now so my rebuke isn’t as scathing as I want it to be. But just give me a good nights sleep, and I’ll come up with a few choice words.

I hear ya. I applied to 10 schools, and I didn’t use the Common App. I finally just came up with one mulitpurpose essay that I could then tailor to the school. Then there were the mini-essays. Those really sucked ass.

I agree about the most important experiences bitch. I couldn’t think of any, so I just made up shit. I guess they fell for it. :smiley:

Keep chugging… it’ll pay off in the end, I promise.

My college applications were a work of art. A masterpiece wrapped in a Pulizer Prize wrapped in a box of tissues.

Picture this:

We’ve woken up at 4:30 in the morning to climb Mount Masada. It’s a steep hill in Israel that takes anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half to traverse. We have to go early because when the desert sun beats down on you at noon the only thing you can think is “Wow, I wish I had gotten up earlier.” Your Kool-aid flavored water ain’t gonna save you from the oppressive heat.

Now, the begining of the climb is easiest. Sure, you’re still trying to wake up, but at least you’re not physically tired. So you climb the trail. You cross the mountian’s trail as it zig zags its way upward towards the heavens. As you continue to climb, you keep thinking just how great of a strategic location the fortress at the top must have been. No wonder it was so difficult to conquer, no one could climb the damn thing. But you trudge onward.

Now, most everyone gets to a point on the climb where they can’t go on any longer. The heat has taken them, their legs give out, the trail which stretches to infinity overtakes them and crushes their spirit. I did the same. I wanted to be in bed. I wanted to give up. I wanted to yell at my advisors for forcing us to even be here in the first place.

But the inspiration for me to continue the journey that generations before me had taken did not just come from within. No, it came from a man who I met on the trail.

This man and I never exchanged words. I don’t believe we ever made eye contact. But his eyes were set with a fiery determination I had never before seen. His mission, his only goal in life, seemed to be getting to the top of Mount Masada. This man had one leg.

He used his crutches as if they were a part of his body. Never wavering, never slowing down. I watched for a moment as I reflected on my thinking from mere moments before. I was too tired? I thought how unfair life was treating me? This man, who had every reason to complain and take life easy was doing anything but that and yet here I was moaning at injustices of the world?

My energy returned. With my spirit renewed and the reality of my situation firmly in place, I continued along the trail. As I reached the top, naturally I celebrated with my friends. But I also waited. I watched.

Thirty minutes later, he came. His two crutches working with clockwork like efficiency, the man with one leg had reached the top. The look of joy and triumph in his face said it all.

From that day forward I learned that no personal hardship, no physical obstacle, nothing in the world will ever stand in the way of sheer determination. It didn’t stop the man with one leg, it cannot stop me.

[sub]who wants a tissue?[/sub]

I don’t mind the application so much–not nearly as bad as undergrad (no filling in your activities and hours per week and such, and very simple essay/personal statement). But the Educational Testing Service is officially on my shit list…

GRE General Test: $100
GRE Subject Test: $130
Call to get scores by phone (rather than waiting another two weeks for mail): $10
Cost per score report beyond those on registration form: $13
Cost per call to order score reports (max 4 per call): $6
And then they try to make a multiple choice test that covers three years of undergraduate physics in three hours. Do you think I had seen a multiple choice test since high school, much less in a physics class?

Grr.

Must be just you, Goat, because I didn’t have a problem filling out apps. The only problems I had was when they asked for my parents’ educations. Since Mom went to the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, hers wasn’t too hard (Associate Degree), but my dad was another story. Why do they never have Armed Forces as an option? That makes me upset. Dad was in the Air Force, but that doesn’t make him stupid. He’s a brilliant man.
Then the whole subject of their present occupations comes up. For under Father should I write “Dying”? For Mom should I write, “Had to quit job to take care of husband”? I guess it’s for financial aide reasons, but still, it just makes me bitter I guess when I think of other kids saying that their daddy’s a brain surgeon and their mother is an actress or something.

I used to be an admissions counselor. How the fuck do you think I felt having to read all that drivel?

I was a big gullible softie, too. I was a pushover for anyone who would write about how much they learned from a friend’s suicide. You ever hear that adage about how if you put together all the slivers of “the true cross,” the Jesus would’ve been hauling around a cricifx that weighed 25 tons? I feel that way about the wave of suicides there would’ve been to account for all the essays I read.

Bitching aside, a well-written essay was wonderful to read. I tried to meet many of my applicants, but it wasn’t possible to meet all of them. The essay was my only chance to really feel like I knew them.

The College Board/ETS has a sweet racket, don’t they? Microsoft has nothing on them in the monopoly department.

Goat, some heartfelt advice. Make sure your college app essay is proofread better than your OP. Typos, spelling mistakes and punctuation errors get these folks in a huff. Pay someone to proofread if you have to.

As to the experience stuff. This is gonna hurt: but try to be sincere. Reach down in there, dude, and find something that matters. Preferably something that connects to your major. If the essay is decently written and doesn’t smell like fertilizer you shouldn’t have to sweat it.

Next year I’ll be going through The Match, which makes the usual college applications process look like a blowjob at the Super Bowl.

The process begins easily enough–application materials are submitted, and the applicants travel around to interview for the various residency programs.

The applicant then makes a ranked list of the schools he is interested in, and submits this list along with a gigantic whack of cash to something called ERAS. The residency programs similarly submit a list of students they are interested in. All this information is fed into a computer, it is given a really strong cup of really hot tea, and it spits out an envelope for every fourth-year medical student in the US.

The fourth-years at a particular school will then gather on the evening of Match Day, usually in a bar. One by one they will be called up on stage and given their envelopes. The student then opens the envelope and reads to the audience where he will be for the next 3-5 years.

Somehow it manages to combine the less appealing aspects of the college applications process and the Academy Awards.

Dr. J

If you are already in college, and want to put yourself under even more torture, why not apply for graduate school? You will be presented with an application of not less than 24 pages, and the request to send in 17 original transcripts (not photocopies). It will be also advisable to send in any work you have written which is longer than 50 pages, in triplicate. You will also be invited to apply for non-existent teaching posts and scholarships which are only available to either people born in Mongolia of Kazakhstani parentage, or the children of the college president. The deadline for this application will be three days after you receive this bumf in the mail. The fee for this privilege will be $150, money orders only, no checks. Your application will neither be successful or unsuccessful. Instead, you will be invited to attend the university and pay full fees for a year, after which “there may be a vacated teaching post available. You will be also able to re-apply for our scholarship for Persons Born in Mongolia of Kazakhstani Parentage.”

But hurry! Any graduate position will be announced only seven days before the deadline for applications!

I’ve begun filling out the online version of the Texas Common Application for undergrad students. My God, what a colossal waste of time.

So far, I’m on page 6 of a 9-page application. I’ve had to account for every address for the past two years, every job I’ve held for that same time, every school I’ve ever attended, and I’ve got to arrange SAT scores, (I just missed the cutoff; theirs is something like 1180, I scored an 1142) CLEP scores, two college transcripts, my DD-214, proof of Texas residence, and a partridge in a pear tree. At least I don’t have to do an essay for the program for which I’m applying. (Medical records administration does not lend itself to weepy, maudlin essays.)

THEN… I have to fill out the Federal student aid apps, pray I get turned down, apply for my nonexistent GI Bill benefits, pray I get turned down for those, then march my happy little ass to the Veterans office, swear to a bunch of stuff under pains and penalties of perjury (and fraud) in order to claim eligibility under the Texas veteran’s assistance program.

THEN… I have to apply for adult-student housing, where I will be wait-listed. I will then have to live in the dorm, where I will end up with some stupid twit for a roommate, if I can’t get a private room.

God, college is so worthwhile!

Robin

Allright I’m back. I’m glad so many share my pain. After four straight hours of staring at my computer screen, and trying to figure out who to curse for my predicament, I finally got my common app essay done. And its damn good if I say so myself. Now all I have to do is the twenty fucking suplements that these hell-spawned colleges seem to need. Oh yeah I’m doing good. Don’t even get me started on ETS they can suck my big green donkey dick.