Hello... I hope you are all having a nice evening! I desperately need help editing this down to 1800 characters and getting feedback on if this actually says anything about me at all. Any comments as soon as possible are incredibly appreciated! Deadline is January 1st :((((
Short Essay
Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. What would you want your future roommate to know about you? Tell us something about you that will help your future roommate -- and us -- know you better.
As I unpack, my boxes are emptied to reveal paper - papers in books, in binders, in notebooks, on Post-Its. While this might lend an impression of obsession, these sheaves of paper reflect the layers of my character.
Many of the operations and interactions of my life are by paper. Lining my walls, desk, and backpack are post-its and lists reminding me of projects and anniversaries while my drawers and folders harbor the more sophisticated cardstock with which I will make every personalized birthday, Christmas, and thank-you card. Despite my obsession with recycling, I almost never throw any paper away, always insisting on its reincarnation as scratch paper, origami cranes, even confetti. It is on these scraps I often jot down witticisms I overhear, a word I have never heard before, or, in a transient flash of inspiration, a line to a poem I have not yet written.
I know my ineluctable accumulation of paper will warrant raised eyebrows and exasperated sighs, but they are an element of my lifestyle that cannot be matched with technology. As much paper as I consume printing assignments or the occasional enlightening article, I handwrite notes and assignments whenever I can, not only because of my penchant for being "old-fashioned" but also because pressings keys on a keyboard is nowhere near as intimate as having a pencil in one hand and paper under your fingertips. With handwriting, I can imprint my thoughts with visual liberty, free to cultivate my specialized system of arrows, noughts, boxes, and lines without the restraints of computerized formatting.
Unlike typing or texting, there is an art to handwriting, a skill derived from the keen physical communication from one's arm to one's fingers involving honing every curve, meticulously ascending the trunk of every 'I', maintaining the impeccable rise and fall of the letters. So you can always expect a handwritten note from me rather than a text message, compounded with a variety of my original calligraphy and nonsensical doodles.
My marriage to paper and handwriting lends itself to a few drawbacks, evidenced by the disarray that pervades my desk and the chronic papercuts and pen marks that adorn my hands. Still, it is a complicated relationship that I cannot abandon. I only hope that you can put up with us. If not, I will be sure to give my apology - by post-it.
2349/1800
Short Essay
Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. What would you want your future roommate to know about you? Tell us something about you that will help your future roommate -- and us -- know you better.
As I unpack, my boxes are emptied to reveal paper - papers in books, in binders, in notebooks, on Post-Its. While this might lend an impression of obsession, these sheaves of paper reflect the layers of my character.
Many of the operations and interactions of my life are by paper. Lining my walls, desk, and backpack are post-its and lists reminding me of projects and anniversaries while my drawers and folders harbor the more sophisticated cardstock with which I will make every personalized birthday, Christmas, and thank-you card. Despite my obsession with recycling, I almost never throw any paper away, always insisting on its reincarnation as scratch paper, origami cranes, even confetti. It is on these scraps I often jot down witticisms I overhear, a word I have never heard before, or, in a transient flash of inspiration, a line to a poem I have not yet written.
I know my ineluctable accumulation of paper will warrant raised eyebrows and exasperated sighs, but they are an element of my lifestyle that cannot be matched with technology. As much paper as I consume printing assignments or the occasional enlightening article, I handwrite notes and assignments whenever I can, not only because of my penchant for being "old-fashioned" but also because pressings keys on a keyboard is nowhere near as intimate as having a pencil in one hand and paper under your fingertips. With handwriting, I can imprint my thoughts with visual liberty, free to cultivate my specialized system of arrows, noughts, boxes, and lines without the restraints of computerized formatting.
Unlike typing or texting, there is an art to handwriting, a skill derived from the keen physical communication from one's arm to one's fingers involving honing every curve, meticulously ascending the trunk of every 'I', maintaining the impeccable rise and fall of the letters. So you can always expect a handwritten note from me rather than a text message, compounded with a variety of my original calligraphy and nonsensical doodles.
My marriage to paper and handwriting lends itself to a few drawbacks, evidenced by the disarray that pervades my desk and the chronic papercuts and pen marks that adorn my hands. Still, it is a complicated relationship that I cannot abandon. I only hope that you can put up with us. If not, I will be sure to give my apology - by post-it.
2349/1800