Undergraduate / Strange? Indeed; Stanford Roommate Letter [5]

Dear Roommate:

Since we are going to live together for a long time, I feel obliged to tell you something real about myself. According to my best friends, I am sometimes unbelievably strange, stubborn, and hypercritical. Therefore, unfortunately, you'd better be well prepared of all the possibilities.

Strange? Indeed. I remember how they looked at me when I shouted "I'm the king of the world" on the top of school's main building after finding a perfect actress for our drama. I also remember Bernard's face when I asked him whether he wanted to run a 5000-meter race with me wearing shorts on a winter day. (Stranger thing is that he accepted it.) And of course, I can recall how exactly everyone reacted when I began singing during my presentation-and guess what-everyone liked it!

Stubborn? Probably. Once made up, my mind will not change even if everyone else is against me. For this trait, I once spend two hours on an electromagnetic problem in the library at midnight, simply eager to prove my method worked, though painfully. It sounds stupid, but I enjoyed it.

Hypercritical? I prefer "hysterical perfectionism", assuming it as a natural characteristic of a director. I ask every member of our cast to repeat no matter how many times it takes to fulfill my demand. During rehearsals, I am a demon. I enjoy these nicknames pretty much, as well as I enjoy the play itself.

I'm not sure which part of me can be counted as one advantage. I guess I am just anything but boring. Tell me anything you want and I'm sure I will enjoy it as long as you do.

Whimsically but sincerely,
Will Sun

It is somehow strange and I'm not sure at all whether this will create a positive figure of me among the readers. Please offer your first impressions of me after reading this essay. And be as HARSH and SPECIFIC as you can. Also, I'm sure there will be some grammar mistakes. Please feel free to point them out! I'd be very glad to check your essays too!

Undergraduate / Stanford "What matters to you" essay -- drama club [5]

Prompt: What matters to you and why?
With a crooked blue broomstick in my sweating left hand, I was staring at the screen on the dark stage nervously. I exchanged glances with my fellow warriors, waiting for the signal. I saw the signal-

This was the beginning of our play, Much Ado about Nothing.
The only thing I remember about my first rehearsal is that when I walked onto the stage, feeling a strong impulse to act. From that moment, my life was connected with drama. Walking in the tiny forest in my school, I read the script again and again, imagining how I should utter each word. Every night before I fell asleep, I would rehearse in my mind, trying to find faults in my performance. Suddenly, my life became vibrant, exciting and-well, full of drama.

However, only after I became a director and co-producer did I realized what a drama really means: a giant project full of attractive challenges as well as trifling details. On one hand, I began to view the play from another perspective, caring for every subtlety of the whole play while plotting the framework of it. On the other hand, I have to work between our school's bureaucracy and our club, check about status of stage properties (i.e. changing broomsticks to swords), and plan for daily activities as well as communicate with our cast. During the hardest time, I often go to rehearsals without lunch to save time in case of possible delay in asking the official for various kinds of permissions and hall's key. In retrospect, the seemingly boring and sometimes painful process of preparation actually helped me became pragmatic. I learned to appreciate the beauty of ordinariness-the building block of marvelous projects. Somebody praises me a lot, but I am no more than an ordinary lover of drama. I just want to do it, and that's all it takes.

-We rushed onto the stage. Lights came on just on time. I raised my broomstick like a real hero. Yes, I'm ready.

Please be harsh. Any help will be appreciated! Thanks!

Undergraduate / 'pianist's fingers' - Commonapp about personal activity -- School Choir [3]

Slowly and steadily, our conductor raised her left hand. The pianist's fingers began dancing and music flew out of the black, giant monster. I swallowed.

Soon she raised her right hand, and immediately the altos and basses entered. I tried my best to stand still.
The conductor winked at us so I started singing while my throat was burning. I tried to mix my voice with the chorus; soon I could not help closing my eyes, inundated by the splendor of music.

Time passed in an undetectable way. Suddenly, I realized that we were reaching the climax, in which the highest pitch for us tenors should appear. Mrs. Xiao always said I would be great, but this time I worried that a throat condition would ruin my performance.

My heart was beating ridiculously fast, my legs trembling and my hands sweating. I decided to sing without thinking, feeling a mixture of despair and hope.

I did not know what happened, but after I was fully conscious, I heard thunderous applause.

Please be harsh! Any help is welcome!
Note: I'm not a native speaker, so any advice about diction/idiom will be appreciated!