Feel feel to respond to as much or as little as you want. I know there's a lot. General or specific critiques are fine.
In the first 10 seconds of the Tufts information session, I nearly fell asleep. That's because the presenter, a nice man in a bright purple shirt and very elegant bow tie began with the infamous phrase: "We're a major research institution with the feel of a small liberal arts school." I'd heard that exact wording three times before. Then he said something that began my love of Tufts: "How many of you have heard that before?" I sat up, completely surprised. No other school I'd visited had bothered to do anything but read us a condensed version of their website. As the information session went on, and the tour began, I started to get more of a feel for Tufts. Other schools' guides walked around, pointed at buildings, and droned on about the Proud and Noble alumni and their extraordinary diversity. The Tufts guides made us laugh at anecdotes. They told us about painting the cannon late at night, their quirky classmates, and their most interesting classes. They made us feel like we belonged, like we were already there. By the time the tour was over, I knew I wanted to go to Tufts. I wanted to stay up late to watch the lights twinkle in the Boston skyline, to take classes at the Ex-College, to be a Jumbo.
My parents are divorced. It was as gentle as these things can be, and I'm not here to talk about how it scarred me for life. I'm here to talk about some of why it happened, and how those differences influenced me. Ignoring their fairly similar personalities, my parents are radically different. My mom is a vegetarian Orthodox Jewish socialist social worker from Massachusetts. My dad is an atheist libertarian businessman from New Hampshire who believes in a strong work ethic and pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. If you don't know, New Hampshire is about as fiscally conservative as Texas and Massachusetts... isn't. I've grown up hearing two different opinions on nearly every issue, and I've had to sort out for myself what to believe. It's led me into being a set of apparent contradictions and non-sequiturs. I'm an agnostic who's read the Bible and Koran-twice. I'm a vegetarian who can discuss the philosophical merits of Ayn Rand for hours. I'm a bisexual Eagle Scout. I'm a pro-choice advocate who sees abortion as a form of murder. I'm me.
Id, as always, was in a foul mood.
"Someone has been eating all my toaster strudel!" he declared.
Super-ego glanced up from the episode of AMC's Breaking Bad (not available on dish) he was watching. "Couldn't have been ego. He's off reading one of those sci-fi books he likes so much. I didn't even know anyone cared about Han Solo's grandchildren."
Id grunted. "Doesn't even hang out with us anymore. He's always hanging out with those Jungian types. I feel like we're 1/x. A hole where our heart should be."
Super-ego walked over and patted his shoulder. "There, there. We're more like Game of Thrones without Eddard. Babylon 5 without Sinclair. Buffy without Jenny Calendar. Different, not worse."
"I hear he's dating Animus." Id said morosely.
Super-ego was shocked. "I never knew he swung that way. You think you know a guy..."
"Yeh."
An awkward silence prevailed.
Id spoke suddenly "Garfield without Garfield... that's definitely an improvement."
"Yeh, does anyone really care about Garfield? He's like The Mother. Always there, but no one really cares anymore."
"I care if Ted finds The Mother." Id said.
"Really?"
"Yeh, it's the entire point of the show."
Both Id and Super-ego fell silent again.
"We should find him!" Id shouted.
"Are you sure? We don't really mix with that Jungian crowd. Oil and water. Hydrofluoric acid and lye. Hamlet and Laertes." replied Super-ego.
"Absolutely!" Id was practically screaming.
"I don't know... He might not want to see us."
"I don't care! I can get less done without him than the immune system without lymph nodes!"
"Nice simile." Super-ego replied respectfully.
"Thanks."
"You're probably right, Id." Super-ego sighed.
"I always am," Id replied.
The two set off, skipping arm in arm down the synapse, rhyming all the way. Their story will continue on the next volume of ID AND SUPER-EGO'S MARVELOUS ADVENTURES with THE TRAGEDY OF THE MISPLACED SEROTONIN RECEPTOR!
Why Tufts?
In the first 10 seconds of the Tufts information session, I nearly fell asleep. That's because the presenter, a nice man in a bright purple shirt and very elegant bow tie began with the infamous phrase: "We're a major research institution with the feel of a small liberal arts school." I'd heard that exact wording three times before. Then he said something that began my love of Tufts: "How many of you have heard that before?" I sat up, completely surprised. No other school I'd visited had bothered to do anything but read us a condensed version of their website. As the information session went on, and the tour began, I started to get more of a feel for Tufts. Other schools' guides walked around, pointed at buildings, and droned on about the Proud and Noble alumni and their extraordinary diversity. The Tufts guides made us laugh at anecdotes. They told us about painting the cannon late at night, their quirky classmates, and their most interesting classes. They made us feel like we belonged, like we were already there. By the time the tour was over, I knew I wanted to go to Tufts. I wanted to stay up late to watch the lights twinkle in the Boston skyline, to take classes at the Ex-College, to be a Jumbo.
Let Your Life Speak
My parents are divorced. It was as gentle as these things can be, and I'm not here to talk about how it scarred me for life. I'm here to talk about some of why it happened, and how those differences influenced me. Ignoring their fairly similar personalities, my parents are radically different. My mom is a vegetarian Orthodox Jewish socialist social worker from Massachusetts. My dad is an atheist libertarian businessman from New Hampshire who believes in a strong work ethic and pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. If you don't know, New Hampshire is about as fiscally conservative as Texas and Massachusetts... isn't. I've grown up hearing two different opinions on nearly every issue, and I've had to sort out for myself what to believe. It's led me into being a set of apparent contradictions and non-sequiturs. I'm an agnostic who's read the Bible and Koran-twice. I'm a vegetarian who can discuss the philosophical merits of Ayn Rand for hours. I'm a bisexual Eagle Scout. I'm a pro-choice advocate who sees abortion as a form of murder. I'm me.
Celebrate Your Nerdy Side
Id, as always, was in a foul mood.
"Someone has been eating all my toaster strudel!" he declared.
Super-ego glanced up from the episode of AMC's Breaking Bad (not available on dish) he was watching. "Couldn't have been ego. He's off reading one of those sci-fi books he likes so much. I didn't even know anyone cared about Han Solo's grandchildren."
Id grunted. "Doesn't even hang out with us anymore. He's always hanging out with those Jungian types. I feel like we're 1/x. A hole where our heart should be."
Super-ego walked over and patted his shoulder. "There, there. We're more like Game of Thrones without Eddard. Babylon 5 without Sinclair. Buffy without Jenny Calendar. Different, not worse."
"I hear he's dating Animus." Id said morosely.
Super-ego was shocked. "I never knew he swung that way. You think you know a guy..."
"Yeh."
An awkward silence prevailed.
Id spoke suddenly "Garfield without Garfield... that's definitely an improvement."
"Yeh, does anyone really care about Garfield? He's like The Mother. Always there, but no one really cares anymore."
"I care if Ted finds The Mother." Id said.
"Really?"
"Yeh, it's the entire point of the show."
Both Id and Super-ego fell silent again.
"We should find him!" Id shouted.
"Are you sure? We don't really mix with that Jungian crowd. Oil and water. Hydrofluoric acid and lye. Hamlet and Laertes." replied Super-ego.
"Absolutely!" Id was practically screaming.
"I don't know... He might not want to see us."
"I don't care! I can get less done without him than the immune system without lymph nodes!"
"Nice simile." Super-ego replied respectfully.
"Thanks."
"You're probably right, Id." Super-ego sighed.
"I always am," Id replied.
The two set off, skipping arm in arm down the synapse, rhyming all the way. Their story will continue on the next volume of ID AND SUPER-EGO'S MARVELOUS ADVENTURES with THE TRAGEDY OF THE MISPLACED SEROTONIN RECEPTOR!