Please tell me if these responses give you an idea of who I am as a person, and if they would stand out from other apps.
1. Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate -- and us -- know you better.
I'm nocturnal, and I don't wake up gracefully. If our schedules match, I'm sorry you'll have to drag me up, but also congrats on definitely beating me to the shower. Coffee won't help either; I can't handle caffeine--if I need to stay up late to study, green tea after dinner does the trick.
I don't really eat on a normal schedule, so if you never see me eat lunch, rest assured, because another thing you don't see is me covertly consuming my weight in chocolate during class. I can only concentrate when I'm eating. There's something about feeling the solid shape of chocolate giving way to creamy goodness as it melts, and tasting the decadent richness with which I have been blessed--what? I said eating helps me concentrate, I didn't say what I'd be concentrated on.
Evening arrives, and the substantial free food comes out. I've honed my mooching skills into an art. Come on, grab your stuff, we're gonna score big.
It's dark now and our windows are open, and I want to talk, want to trade ideas and let intelligence and incoherence and inquiries flow. I want to know about your major, book recommendations, new food at your favorite bakery. I want to listen to your thoughts, maybe change your mind on something, and perhaps let you change mine.
I'm nocturnal. The only thing better than basking in the night's calm is enjoying it with a friend. I am content in this moment, and I hope you are too.
2. What matters to you, and why?
What do a Japanese volleyball anime and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart have in common? For most people, probably nothing. For me, this unlikely pair holds a world of significance. Yet for everything that I love dearly, part of that love comes from envy. I want to be on the most elite team in the Miyagi Prefecture. I want to be in the writer's room working on an iconic monologue with Jon. Maybe it's the starpower; maybe I'm drawn to fame and want to experience the admiration I hold for others. Or maybe I am drawn to success. More accurately, I am drawn to how others have achieved success. The volleyball team taught me the importance of never wasting a moment of practice, because the regret that comes after defeat tastes like bitter ashes. I internalized the perseverance the volleyball players showed, and it got me through eighth-position passages on the violin that shredded my fingertips and pages of calculus problems solved again and again until I was satisfied that regret would not come. Jon taught me how to articulately make arguments, how to extract humor from somber topics, and how to dissect hypocrisy with the razor-sharp precision that made him the most trusted man in America today.
So, fictional volleyball and political satire matter. Learning unconventionally matters. And knowing that I too can succeed with the unrelenting effort and clarity of mind I have gained from those unconventional sources--that, to me, is what most matters.
1. Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate -- and us -- know you better.
I'm nocturnal, and I don't wake up gracefully. If our schedules match, I'm sorry you'll have to drag me up, but also congrats on definitely beating me to the shower. Coffee won't help either; I can't handle caffeine--if I need to stay up late to study, green tea after dinner does the trick.
I don't really eat on a normal schedule, so if you never see me eat lunch, rest assured, because another thing you don't see is me covertly consuming my weight in chocolate during class. I can only concentrate when I'm eating. There's something about feeling the solid shape of chocolate giving way to creamy goodness as it melts, and tasting the decadent richness with which I have been blessed--what? I said eating helps me concentrate, I didn't say what I'd be concentrated on.
Evening arrives, and the substantial free food comes out. I've honed my mooching skills into an art. Come on, grab your stuff, we're gonna score big.
It's dark now and our windows are open, and I want to talk, want to trade ideas and let intelligence and incoherence and inquiries flow. I want to know about your major, book recommendations, new food at your favorite bakery. I want to listen to your thoughts, maybe change your mind on something, and perhaps let you change mine.
I'm nocturnal. The only thing better than basking in the night's calm is enjoying it with a friend. I am content in this moment, and I hope you are too.
2. What matters to you, and why?
What do a Japanese volleyball anime and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart have in common? For most people, probably nothing. For me, this unlikely pair holds a world of significance. Yet for everything that I love dearly, part of that love comes from envy. I want to be on the most elite team in the Miyagi Prefecture. I want to be in the writer's room working on an iconic monologue with Jon. Maybe it's the starpower; maybe I'm drawn to fame and want to experience the admiration I hold for others. Or maybe I am drawn to success. More accurately, I am drawn to how others have achieved success. The volleyball team taught me the importance of never wasting a moment of practice, because the regret that comes after defeat tastes like bitter ashes. I internalized the perseverance the volleyball players showed, and it got me through eighth-position passages on the violin that shredded my fingertips and pages of calculus problems solved again and again until I was satisfied that regret would not come. Jon taught me how to articulately make arguments, how to extract humor from somber topics, and how to dissect hypocrisy with the razor-sharp precision that made him the most trusted man in America today.
So, fictional volleyball and political satire matter. Learning unconventionally matters. And knowing that I too can succeed with the unrelenting effort and clarity of mind I have gained from those unconventional sources--that, to me, is what most matters.