<p>I have a fate story. I used to live in NH, and we moved away when I was eleven. In NH I used to hear this song on the radio that I really liked. I tried on several occasions to find it after I moved away--but to no avail. Then while I was doing my summer college tour, I was sitting in the Wrap down the street from Dartmouth--and yes, that very song came on. I was ecstatic and jumped up to ask the cashier who sang it etc. etc. So, during those frustrating lonely nights in Oct. of trying to decide btw Yale or Dartmouth--that was the one memory which kept coming back to me.</p>
<p>I suppose I should add that I am now a Dartmouth 09 ED, to give the story some relvance.</p>
<p>I am very firmly a man of science, yet I believe in fate quite strongly. One might think it a contradiction, but it really is not. Fate is what we make of it. Perhaps one of my paths is to attend Dartmouth, but if I threw my life away, that path would not be possible. There are many paths my life could take, and that's why I work my ass off to ensure that I follow the best one.</p>
<p>I have a story that has to do with my summer college visit, Walden Pond, My Dad and Brother, Thoreau's cabin and a 4 thousand year old Indian Spear head....and getting into Dartmouth. That was what I wrote my essay about.</p>
<p>and apparently it worked! lol. damn! mine was about my Grandpa and my LJ...not really cliche though, the message was positivity (is that a word?)</p>
<p>When i was young, I went to a montasorri-esque school from age 2 to 5. When I was 4 it was time to put me in a regular kindergarten. The elementary school in my neighborhood was a very good school and my parents were thinking about putting me there. They were sitting on our porch, watching a thunderstorm, and they finally decided that I would go to that school. Then, they heard sirens and saw firetrucks go by. The elementary school burned to the ground that very night! So, they decided that I should go to one of the two private schools in town for kindergarten.</p>
<p>When I went to interview, the "test" was to see if I could follow simple directions. I am small and while I was 4, I looked about 2. The lady had a toy elephant and was asking me "Where is the elephant?" I was supposed to answer, "On my head" or something like that. Instead, I said, "Elephants are an endangered species, you know." But I digress. That school admitted me, and then promptly withdrew me b/c a boy who had an older brother wanted to come in and they get preference.</p>
<p>So I spent another year at the montasorri school, and learned to read and write. At 5, my parents were desperate to find a school. If I went to public, I'd be in a portable, for sure. There was no room in the "superior" private school. So I interviewed at the other private school. They didn't have room in kindergarten either, but I could test for a place in first grade. I got in, and ended up in the class of 05. </p>
<p>The whole point of these ramblings is that my PSAT scores in writing were the worst. If I had been in my proper grade (I have an october birthday), I would have been in trouble. 06 would not be a good grade for me. So fate (with fires and younger brothers) must have had some part in getting me to Dartmouth.</p>
<p>whoa ho ho! That one's insane. The same thing happened to me though. Seriously! Even the really weird/smart answer to the tough private school question, except mine went like this:</p>
<p>EVALUATOR: "What is a diamond?"
Me: "It's like...a ruby."
EVALUATOR: "What do you use it for?"
Me: "You can use to it cut sharp things! Like, a diamond wheel blade, spinning really fast, can cut really hard things."
the woman's jaw just DROPPED. she turned to my mom and went "i...was expecting...'you can wear it as jewelry' or something."</p>
<p>End result, I too am an '05 that shoulda been an '06. But I like my Writing score...and I prob. would have done better w/o Quant Comps and Analogies. It's the critical reading that would have killed me, so I'm glad I didn't have to take the critical reading-heavy new SATs.</p>
<p>Sounds like someone spent too much time with dad in the garage w/ power tools instead of dressing up with mom. :)</p>
<p>LOL my mom was baffled too! Esp. since I'm a girl. I think later my dad explained that one time I asked what would happen if you had to cut something really sharp, and he told me lol</p>
<p>I'm not a Darmouth '09er, nor am I a senior (I'm a junior), but I thought I'd like to post on this interesting thread. I do believe in fate, to a certain extent. A few years ago, when I was visiting my relatives in India, I went to an ice cream parlor with my cousin. I was pretty young back then (around 9), so I was pretty active - always running around and jumpy. Anyway, as we were going to the parlor, we had to cross a busy intersection. I ran ahead of my cousin and started to run across the street. But, just as I ran a few feet into the road, my cousin called my name, so I looked back at her. She told me "Careful when crossing." Then, when I turned my head around to face the street, a huge lorrie (British term for "large truck" - similiar to a garbage truck) passed within 3 feet in front of me. So if it hadn't been my cousin calling out to me at THAT particular moment, I wouldn't be alive today...</p>
<p>Cinderelly,</p>
<p>I was able to picture your story, having been there.</p>
<p>fountain,
4 thousand year old spearhead? Walden Pond? Thoreau's cabin? What?</p>
<p>Greensleeves,
That is one extended peice of fate. Glad you ended up at Dartmouth.</p>
<p>Econimist,
powerful moment in your life (well written too).</p>
<p>Ok guys, interpret this, since this whole process is still unresolved til April: I was at work (at a local mall store) when Yale's EA decisions were posted, so I had my mom check it and text me (deferred). I looked up from the phone right to the store entrance where a Yale sweatshirted guy was walking right at me. He asked me a question and I told him I had been deferred from Yale that very minute. He was equally freaked out. It was weird. Personally, tho, I am led around life by recurring numbers, for me "22"...they appear as signs for everyone in my family...as does 33 for our cousin's family, we recently discovered. My 22's are all over all over my Dartmouth path. After the Yale fiasco (accepting the 1220 SAT football guy over the top 5 GPA's at my school), I'm not feelin' too much love for the New Haven experience...regretting not going ED to D.</p>
<p>LOL! Just noticed the "22" in the aforementioned accepted guy's SAT score! See?!</p>
<p>rumbean- Maybe someone is sending you a message of some sort! What were you doing at 2:22 PM feb 2nd 2002?</p>
<p>lol. that's really weird, rumbean - my number is also 22. my birthday is 2/22/88, which is where it came from, but it shows up EVERYWHERE!</p>
<p>It's amazing how many things are divisable by 2. Who knew? lol</p>
<p>22 is certainly my "cursed number" too. On Feb. 22nd, I found out that I did not get a scholarship that I would die for, I dropped from valedictorian to #2 in my class, and that my grandpa has cancer!</p>
<p>:(</p>
<p>i'm so sorry...ironic, that was my birthday. but hey, salutatorian is still an amazing achievement!</p>
<p>hey RKelly, do you like peeing on little girls?</p>
<p>Wow...that was really rude, bluirinka.</p>
<p>yeah you're right. my attempt at being lighthearted failed miserably, but for some reason i can't delete it. RKelly, my sincerest apologies.</p>