<p>Hear-hear. It’s even worse, though, when you’ve got parents (actually, an entire family) who isn’t on this board or any other, because they know NOTHING about the process except how they got in 40 years ago to study something they didn’t really want to do but “everyone else did it back then, and you should go along with what’s deemed acceptable” – and think you’re selling your soul to the devil or something by applying over the Internet (that gall-durned contraption! Where do you put the toast, Mabel?), when in fact, this is 2011, not 1955, and a lot of schools are now REQUIRING that you apply online, and don’t really offer a paper application anymore! That, and I’m applying to a liberal arts school (Emerson) with an emphasis on creativity, when…</p>
<p>“as we all know, you don’t study English to get a real job, dag nabbit! You go to work, you make 15 cents an hour, and you pay your way through technical school! In my day, we had to walk – 25 miles in the snow, with no shoes, and sometimes no feet – to get to the civil servant’s exam, and you LIKED IT! And then, if you didn’t pass, you worked for Pa in the factory, and you LIKED IT! And Ma would get you a home cooked meal, and it tasted like slop, because it WAS slop, but you LIKED IT! And if you were a girl, and you thought like a girl, and you looked like a girl, you worked like a girl, and typed 800 words per minute for a dime a day to give to your Pa…and you LIKED IT! Unless you thought like a girl, and looked like a girl, but you WEREN’T a girl, in which case you got the livin’ bejeezus beat outta ya…and you LIKED IT! (No, wait, you didn’t, 'cause then you would be a doggone fruitcake, now wouldn’t ya?) And then all them purdy li’l clerks got married, and they had kids, and they went and learned how to cook just like Ma, but it was never like Ma, and their boys all went off to find real jobs, while the girls stayed home and helped their Ma’s…and everyone LIKED IT!”</p>
<p>I might go watch Dead Poets’ Society this weekend. “Carpe Diem.” “O Captain, My Captain.” My whole family must think "silly f–gots, Emerson’s for fairies. Real men don’t go fancy-dancing on Broadway, and real women only cook quiche.</p>
<p>By the way, I consider myself a real woman, and I neither cook…nor like quiche. I am actually a girl, who’s very empathetic towards the ‘fancy dancing’ Broadway-ites and Glee Club…if I was destined to be a purdy li’l married, family-friendly clerk with a purdy, perky smile, I wouldn’t be going away to college to be a creative professional. I’d get my Master’s at Bates (wink, nudge), and go all “Misery” on my hypothetical hubby, once I graduate in June and give <em>him</em> a slice of the old Cleaver! ;-)</p>