Friday, March 23, 2012

The Golden Ticket

During the fall and winter, Jon applied to seven graduate programs for Film Studies. For a while now, we've known the outcome of six of those applications: Rejected by five schools and waitlisted at one. Things weren't looking too good, but we were holding out hope that the last school -- also his #1 choice -- would bring us good news.

Then last week he was alerted that the final decision had been mailed. Every other school had told him their decision via email, but not this one. It would take about a week for the letter to arrive through the post. This school is so cruel.

So it was a waiting game. I was so nervous. For the first time ever, I actually checked the mailbox every day (I'm notoriously bad about doing this -- I'd never get the mail if I lived alone), and went day-to-day with tapping feet and twiddling thumbs, waiting for news.

Then finally, with Jon at work and no one around but a menagerie of animals, a letter arrived.

And then it sat on my desk for two hours. Taunting me.

I could do nothing but stare at it while I waited for Jon to respond to my frantic Come home right now! text message. Well, actually, I man-handled that envelope within an inch of its life -- holding it up to the light and slamming it around -- but couldn't make out the most important part: Yes or No. I'd promised him I wouldn't open it, especially if it were a small envelope, which, of course, it was. Small envelopes usually mean "rejection" while a large envelope or packet usually signifies "acceptance", but I still wasn't sure. But I understood: he wanted to be the one to see if it was a rejection, not someone else.

Well, he didn't come home, but he did eventually call, to which I told him that, yes, it was a small envelope but I still had a good feeling about it; the words I could make out didn't sound like one on a rejection letter. So -- with his permission -- I opened his mail.


Then I proceeded to lose my mind with excitement. All of Jon's hard work had paid off. We finally knew where we were going to be living come fall of this year. We finally had been set on course with a plan.

It felt so good, and still does.

Today, Jon mailed in his acceptance of their offer for admission into a two-year M.A. program for Film Studies at Dodge College of Film and Media Arts at Chapman University in Orange, California. It is the college where my sister received her undergraduate degree in Film Studies and Screenwriting, and it is the program we felt was most in alignment with Jon's interests in film genre and history, as well as a great start to his plan on becoming a university professor.

We could not be more thrilled or more relieved, and I'm actually looking forward to exploring a new place and being around friends I've hardly had the chance to see over the last several years. And, after eight years, I'll finally be living within 1 1/2 hours of my sister. 

Now, onto the next challenge: Finding an apartment in Southern California on a single-income/student budget. Luckily, though, we have a little bit of time to relax.

1 comment:

  1. I am so happy for BOTH of you! While I tend to make fun of it as my alma mater, the truth is that Chapman is a stellar film school - professors who know their shit, small enough classes to really learn something from people who've actually done the work in the field. Not only that, but Chapman is a nurturing place; a place that you could really do great work if you have the motivation. Profite bien! xoxo