every little thing's gonna be alright.

we left new brunswick ten days ago, and now i'm finally sitting here again, writing, writing and erasing, not sure of what to say or how to say it.

it's been an eventful week and a half, ups and downs.

i found out on my birthday (seriously? my birthday?!)that i didn't get in to the master's program i applied to at UBC.  you know - the only program i applied to, the basket in which i tossed all of my eggs in a whirlwind 10 days back at the beginning of september as i struggled and scrambled to put together a portfolio in time.  i guess i assumed that i would get in, regardless of a crappy letter of intent (written in the last 45 minutes before the midnight deadline) and a slapped-together gong show of a portfolio.  and for some stupid reason, the rejection made turning thirty that much harder.  

it's such a nice, fuzzy feeling to be on some kind of a path, to know what's next, to have a plan.  before going to SSU, i was terrified of committing to a four-year program; but once i was there, i relished the feeling of security, of not having to make any decisions about where i was going or what i was doing.  in university, things move in a natural rhythm that was well-suited to my personality:  chunks of time spent at school, summers and christmases for a change of pace and scene, travel semesters for adventuring...but always coming back to the big yellow house eventually, always being together again eventually.

now i am cut adrift in the wide open world with endless possibilities, decisions that will lead to happiness or despair, greatness or mediocrity.  

remember when 'choose your own adventure' stories were popular?  as a kid, it seemed like my first instincts always led my princess (or other character) to a tragic end.  i would go back and make different decisions and different decisions until finally, the happiest ending was achieved.  it doesn't exactly work that way in real life, sadly.  and it has me immobilized, paralyzed by indecision.

i found another program after my post-traumatic rejection shock wore off, one that maybe even excites me more than the original program i applied to.  but now i'm scared, scared to death, scared out of my pants about applying and not getting in.  oy vey.

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