Today: October 13th 2010

Dear Carmen,

You are very close.  After today’s interminable bureaucracy session your graduate school applications are nearly complete.  Sadly, your hope that the selection committees will decide your fate is highly unlikely (probably due to the fact that you applied to twelve schools(or maybe your semi-subconscious belief that you’re the most interesting and intelligent person living has a basis in me (Reality)(ha, ha!)?)).  You’re going to have to choose eventually.  Let me help you.  Here’s the list of schools you’re applying to: NYU, Columbia, Iowa, Brown, New School, Syracuse, UC Irvine, Hunter, UVA, USC, Rutgers, Cornell.  All the New York City schools are unsavory because of your irrational fear that a nuclear bomb will be smuggled into the city on the tenth anniversary of September 11th and that terrorists will detonate the bomb at the exact moment you sign the security deposit on your apartment.  At the same time, the memories.  Plus, Gossip Girl is shooting at Columbia now.  All the California schools are discounted because of your irrational fear of airplanes.  At the same time, twenty-three-years of getting bitchslapped by tri-state area winters is wearing bulimic thin.  Plus, adventure.  All of the Ivy League schools are discounted because of your learning disability.  At the same time, the sweaters.  Plus, writing formulas on windows.  All the upstate New York schools are discounted because of winter, again.  At the time, you have so many nice jackets and skullcaps.  Plus, George Saunders.  All the bucolic schools in Iowa and Virginia are discounted because they are bucolic schools in Iowa and Virginia.   At the same time, you do have an appreciation for pastoral living.  Plus,…Iowa?  In conclusion-and I’m sure this goes for everyone you know-as long as you don’t go to Rutgers I will continue to be your acquaintance.  That wasn’t much help, but that’s due to the difficultly of the decision you’re faced with.  That’s grown-up being for you.  It’s time to get old and do some shit.  Either get busy doing or get busy dying.  A single yes speaks more than a thousand maybes.  Good luck.

Sincerely,

Reality

Post-script: On top of all that, you’re in terrible shape.  I suppose your grotesque double chin does make the people around you feel better about their own personal looks, though? If that makes you feel any better?  Write me back?