The deeper and deeper I get into this grad school process the more and more the reality sinks in of possibly not being accepted into any program. I don’t think I’m being pessimistic. Some of these admissions requirements for the social sciences are off the charts for me, especially since I majored in journalism. I can count on half a thumb how many times I’ve written a scholarly paper that was 15-20 pages long. Of course, what do I expect, applying for an academic field. But shit, I can’t turn in my story on HR 4437?
Ah, if I’d a known then what I know now…
Anyway, today I had some kind of cheap ass revelation where I realized, Dammit, I need a backup plan. That said, I’m sounding the call (Is that the correct expression?) for aspiring biz types who want to live the dream with me in some dumpy apartment in L.A. We’ll all have crappy day jobs and probably dig the couches for spare change to buy KFC specials but who cares, it’ll pay off because we’ll make a blood pact prior to signing the lease that whoever “makes it” first will employ us in his or her feature film, t.v. show, production company, or music video (?). It’ll be sooo cute.
We’ll show up to Sundance together and pose on the cover of Entertainment Weekly in some terrible photoshoot where the theme is “dysfunctional and incestuous but quirky loving family” because, you know, the rumor mill will be flying by then that when we were “struggling writers/actors” living in such close quarters, we got so close that we had naked cookouts. But that’ll be one big joke. Or is it? (In creepy Brittany Murphy voice) We’ll never tell. Gotta keep ’em guessing as they say.
So, any takers???