overdog

Well, I did it.

On March 28, 2008, at somewhere between 9:00 and 11:00 AM CDT, I managed to drop an application for Trinity College into the FedEx box (with hopefully all the right stuff filled out).

So, there's that. Now I'm just waiting...

...which sucks.

It's something that I've known about myself for a while; anything under my control is something I'll succeed at. Anything I don't control--that's up in the air. That I might fail, even if it isn't my "fault".

It's strange (to me, anyway); I'm used to a world that falls into place, not a world that just falls. I'm used to being able to pick one of the (usually equally good) choices, never to just wait until one of them chooses me. But that's increasingly how I see life becoming--relationships, business interests, scholarship applications, whatever. It's nothing I do; what I say or don't, what I do or don't, whatever happens that I control does not matter. Sure, it may lead to a point here, a different point there. But whenever I reach that point, the outcome is equally (or to a greater extent) decided by someone else, someone independent.

I know, that may just sound like common sense to you. Well, it's not to me. It's hard, for me. It's something I was maybe too socially stunted to realize back in high school, or whenever everyone intuitively understands his or her place in the Grand Scheme (note the capitals). Maybe it's just maturity; maybe it's shedding the naivety and innocence of youth.

Still, at the same time, it's horrible. From where I stand, there's a certain level of hope entwined with my active hand in the Universe. There is always a point at which one can say, "Well, I don't know what they've tried so far, but I can try this...Maybe I can succeed where everyone else--everyone who had more a shot at it than I do--has failed." We love an underdog. And we want to be one. But that's not something we can determine.

I'm no exception; I try to spin my life as though I've fought against something, or risen up above some tribulation. That's what society wants, that's what draws the support, the admiration, the love. It's flaws and imperfections; it's the broken implicit promises, the forgotten incidentals. It's the faults that we love; the strenghts we're only drawn to.

But even so, I can't help but blame myself whenever something doesn't go as I'd like it to do. When the 't's don't get crossed, and the 'i's don't get dotted, I consider it my fault, because I should have known, I should have been observant enough to see. And that's ridiculous; a person that can "see" what another person will do should be doing tarot somewhere. I'm not psychic, I'm not special in any way); I'm just human.

I guess that'll have to be good enough.