This is one out of five essays that I am writing for my admissions application to Smith, Bryn Mawr, Middlebury, and New College of Florida.
Subject: If you are not currently enrolled in college full-time, please describe in detailed chronological order your activities since last enrolled in school full-time.
Does my essay satisfy the instructions, and are there are grammatical errors? Is the essay eccentric yet definitive in its proclomation of activities?
Thru the spring and summer of 2010, I devoted my time to a four star restaurant in Winter Park FL, and a tea and sandwich house across the street from the University of Central Florida so that I could amass tuition for the fall of 2010. Rather than studying at eclectic cafes and pondering the abysmal quality of sherbet skies, I abstained from social interaction, horrified at the thought of an interruption of remuneration, and worked the maximum of forty hours per week at Houston's Restaurant. When not working at Houstons, I could be spotted behind the tinted glass of three panels serving hand brewed tea and intimidating sandwiches to the local fraternity brothers and sorority sisters of UCF. Between the shifts interlacing each other, giving grace to a few hours of freedom, I could be sited contemplating the theories of Heidegger among the shelved philosophers of Borders Bookstore.
Brooding on a constant basis appeared as the solidary activity I was persistently participating in during this seven months academic interruption; furthermore, I enjoyed the solitude of sitting for several hours at Natura Café and Jazz so that I could complete a multitude of readings. Each page ameliorated the plethora of difficulties I ruminated over on a daily basis: cultural disadvantages, hardships, and inexperienced and unadvised decisions. With ease I disparage the nights that I attempted to paint the town red; subconsciously surrounding myself with those whom simply subdued my existential angst and thwarted my inner growth, freedom of knowledge, and opportunities to truly experience life. It was the straining pressure of autonomously paying for tuition, books, rent, car payment and insurance, and extracurricular activities, and the consistent feeling of Nausee that blurred together the peculiarities of this particular period in my life; the chronological components danced without order and altered the tempo at their leisure. As the sonnet played with resonating bass, the singer swayed and hummed a virtuous, treacle lullaby: "never abandon virtue, which is an impetus to success".
With grandiose hopes of surrounding myself with a challenging academic environment, I hastily registered for fall classes in Philosophy, Literature, and Elementary French. Quickly following my enrollment in classes, I came to the ruinous awareness that I was too impecunious to be able to rely on my income for the following four months, which would have allowed me replete devotion to my academic studies. To say this was a complete mental and intellectual devastation would to ignore the passivity endured during the next 4 months. Quickly seizing my parent's offer of a spare room in their house, I returned to Arcadia Fl. so that I could once again attempt to accrue the plethora of dollar bills needed to attend college properly and respectfully; however, I was not prepared to promptly return home among the lamenting unemployed.
I have never put much thought into the antiquated saying that everything happens for a reason; but shortly after securing a volunteer position at a local rare and used bookstore, and systematizing a routine of a.m. studies (accompanied with a demitasse of Café Bustello), self-created prompts, and mandatory photography sessions of Arcadia, I understood the capable profundity of each action followed through in life. I believe this saying can be interpreted into a more personally controlled affiliation of the self by positing that each experience, action, and outcome can never be fully comprehended until it has happened.
With this new perspective on the ability to control every element of my life, I have begun to extract further extol for my academic freedom, while conscious of the veiled, possible impact on my intellect each step possesses. Reflecting the structure of a scholarly den, I continue to dissect literature and philosophy in the solitude of a personal classroom. The terse two hour break I allow myself from Plato, Kant, and Sartre arrives in the afternoon when Sofi ́a (my 1987, Trek 400) and I race each other to Crackerhouse Bookstore; and upon the front doors bell's dissonance floating into the distance, I find myself shoved in the children's section organizing and restocking; concentrating on the alphabetization of 1800-1900 Classic Literature; and guiding inquisitive guests to their desired area of readings.
Not only am I volunteering at a local bookstore, but I am also looking forward to holding a journalist and photography position at the local newspaper in January: covering a weekly book review and an article on the education system in DeSoto County. I most certainly plan to continue volunteering at Crackerhouse Bookstore; furthermore, I anticipate the completion of a short film on the languid mentality of a small town and its effect on culture, creative stimulation, and communal efficiency. It is with complete devotion to academics, creativeness, and intellectuality that I reserved the year 2010, and 2011 prospectively, so that I may become a part of the arduous and witty environment of a Liberal Arts College.
Subject: If you are not currently enrolled in college full-time, please describe in detailed chronological order your activities since last enrolled in school full-time.
Does my essay satisfy the instructions, and are there are grammatical errors? Is the essay eccentric yet definitive in its proclomation of activities?
Thru the spring and summer of 2010, I devoted my time to a four star restaurant in Winter Park FL, and a tea and sandwich house across the street from the University of Central Florida so that I could amass tuition for the fall of 2010. Rather than studying at eclectic cafes and pondering the abysmal quality of sherbet skies, I abstained from social interaction, horrified at the thought of an interruption of remuneration, and worked the maximum of forty hours per week at Houston's Restaurant. When not working at Houstons, I could be spotted behind the tinted glass of three panels serving hand brewed tea and intimidating sandwiches to the local fraternity brothers and sorority sisters of UCF. Between the shifts interlacing each other, giving grace to a few hours of freedom, I could be sited contemplating the theories of Heidegger among the shelved philosophers of Borders Bookstore.
Brooding on a constant basis appeared as the solidary activity I was persistently participating in during this seven months academic interruption; furthermore, I enjoyed the solitude of sitting for several hours at Natura Café and Jazz so that I could complete a multitude of readings. Each page ameliorated the plethora of difficulties I ruminated over on a daily basis: cultural disadvantages, hardships, and inexperienced and unadvised decisions. With ease I disparage the nights that I attempted to paint the town red; subconsciously surrounding myself with those whom simply subdued my existential angst and thwarted my inner growth, freedom of knowledge, and opportunities to truly experience life. It was the straining pressure of autonomously paying for tuition, books, rent, car payment and insurance, and extracurricular activities, and the consistent feeling of Nausee that blurred together the peculiarities of this particular period in my life; the chronological components danced without order and altered the tempo at their leisure. As the sonnet played with resonating bass, the singer swayed and hummed a virtuous, treacle lullaby: "never abandon virtue, which is an impetus to success".
With grandiose hopes of surrounding myself with a challenging academic environment, I hastily registered for fall classes in Philosophy, Literature, and Elementary French. Quickly following my enrollment in classes, I came to the ruinous awareness that I was too impecunious to be able to rely on my income for the following four months, which would have allowed me replete devotion to my academic studies. To say this was a complete mental and intellectual devastation would to ignore the passivity endured during the next 4 months. Quickly seizing my parent's offer of a spare room in their house, I returned to Arcadia Fl. so that I could once again attempt to accrue the plethora of dollar bills needed to attend college properly and respectfully; however, I was not prepared to promptly return home among the lamenting unemployed.
I have never put much thought into the antiquated saying that everything happens for a reason; but shortly after securing a volunteer position at a local rare and used bookstore, and systematizing a routine of a.m. studies (accompanied with a demitasse of Café Bustello), self-created prompts, and mandatory photography sessions of Arcadia, I understood the capable profundity of each action followed through in life. I believe this saying can be interpreted into a more personally controlled affiliation of the self by positing that each experience, action, and outcome can never be fully comprehended until it has happened.
With this new perspective on the ability to control every element of my life, I have begun to extract further extol for my academic freedom, while conscious of the veiled, possible impact on my intellect each step possesses. Reflecting the structure of a scholarly den, I continue to dissect literature and philosophy in the solitude of a personal classroom. The terse two hour break I allow myself from Plato, Kant, and Sartre arrives in the afternoon when Sofi ́a (my 1987, Trek 400) and I race each other to Crackerhouse Bookstore; and upon the front doors bell's dissonance floating into the distance, I find myself shoved in the children's section organizing and restocking; concentrating on the alphabetization of 1800-1900 Classic Literature; and guiding inquisitive guests to their desired area of readings.
Not only am I volunteering at a local bookstore, but I am also looking forward to holding a journalist and photography position at the local newspaper in January: covering a weekly book review and an article on the education system in DeSoto County. I most certainly plan to continue volunteering at Crackerhouse Bookstore; furthermore, I anticipate the completion of a short film on the languid mentality of a small town and its effect on culture, creative stimulation, and communal efficiency. It is with complete devotion to academics, creativeness, and intellectuality that I reserved the year 2010, and 2011 prospectively, so that I may become a part of the arduous and witty environment of a Liberal Arts College.
