I could very easily rattle of my accomplishments. I could list them off one by one as they come to me, and I could dazzle you, I am sure.

Yet, people who write about the incredible obstacles they have overcome in their short seventeen or eighteen years are rarely believable. Why should my miraculous passing of a test, catching the winning touchdown, or single-handed effort to force the show to go on get me into college?

I am a rebel. A wild child, if you will. So, after much internal debate and several drafts of several different kinds of essays, I have decided that I will talk about all my less than spectacular qualities and quirks. I will talk about some random thoughts that have entered my brain over the course of time. I will even talk about things I flat out bad at.


I am horrible at every sport ever to exist. I am the last person you would want on your gym team because I will run away from any ball that is pelted at me. To catch it is defying instinct, and I am one with nature.

I have seriously speculated that my freshman year gym/theology teacher majored in dodge ball.

Math is my worst enemy. I once found “Jon and Kate Plus Eight” to be a great show because the title involves math I can understand. However, that they have so deeply complicated the equation recently is why, I feel, that I have lost interest in the show; they have made simple math into long division.

When I am not interested in something, I am completely gone. I can take a nap, have a dream, and analyze its meaning all within the span of one chemistry class. This is a true story.

I lie about things that do not need to be lied about. By the way, I am 5’8, have an IQ of 175, drive a spaceship to school, got a 1500 on my SATS, and had lunch with President Obama yesterday afternoon.

I am a procrastinator. The exact time I am writing this very sentence is 12:39 AM. I feel this may be because I work best under pressure. And, by pressure, I mean the looming fear and anxiety of failing to apply to colleges, never getting a job and living with my parents at 35.

I think intensely about what I say. Though, this tends to be after I have already said it. Oops.

I wrote, directed, and filmed a short movie for a local film festival. After much hard work and intense planning, all the footage had no sound. I was then visited by Charlie Chaplin in a dream and made a silent film.

In light of the recession, I have thought up a great business plan to make money. I am going to create a test that ranks your abilities that all high school students will take. Then college admissions officers, like yourself, will take into serious consideration the scores students get on my test. Students will pay a fee each time they take the test. Then I will offer preparatory classes and review books for astronomical sums so that they can improve their scores. I will also then offer therapy—for a cost, of course—to counsel the students who have a nervous break down trying to get a perfect score.

I ran for Senior Class President this year. In my campaign speech I told my fellow students the truth; I admitted that I could not provide them with a public health care option, bring peace to the Middle East, or lower lunch prices. I even went so far as to guarantee that we would have two days off from school each week. I lost.

I am desperately trying to be witty because I really, truly want to go to college.