Ahoy! We want to invest in you!

Being the stupid person I was and giving my e-mail out at the PSAT, I, as consequence, now have an inbox full of college trash. And let me tell you about the bullshit they talk about. I got one e-mail that said, in bold lettering “You’re SAT scores are so impressive.” Uh, excuse me, hello? I haven’t even taken a freaking SAT yet you liar! All of them say the same thing, and they all are about how wonderful of a student I am. But the most annoying yet is one, where the subject of the e-mail was “We want to invest in you.”

Ok. First off, I am not an object.

You can invest in stocks. You can invest in businesses. But you do not walk around saying, “Hey! I don’t know you at all and you’ve got no stellar achievement whatsoever, so I’m going to invest a full college tuition on you!” I don’t like the idea that I’m just another money-making object. If I succeed, I’m suppose to give money back. If not, well then sucks for me.

It’s great that you want to spend money on me. I’m deeply pleased. But I’m wondering, how many more of those e-mail have you sent out? Thousands? Millions? Most people will just ignore it. But, what if, just what if EVERYONE replied? Now will you just say, “Hey I’ll invest in you because you’re not too shabby.”?

Just to prove a point, I went into a couple of them and changed my name, e-mail and address to something completely made up. I live in Afghanistan but I go so school in New Mexico. I live on Main Street, but my house number 1409. It’s hilarious. Even though I suppose it’s not nice to screw with colleges like that.

So, Mr. College E-mail, go away and we can stop wasting each other’s lives. OK? 

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A Sorry Apology?

So after being leaving for vacation for 5 days and being devoid of wifi in that time period, I, of course, arrive home swamped with 200 some college emails asking if this is me, 100 some notifications of all sorts and a couple of other scattered emails. Oh, and one pathetic view on my blog.

Well, I wasn’t asking for any anyways, since I’ve got maybe less than a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of tenth of the amount of people on WordPress following my blog. (By the way, I must make it clear that I actually prefer having less followers, because then I don’t have to deal with criticism. And apparently I don’t take that very well…)

But one view was still very pathetic.

And now here I was rushing back to the computer, slightly lacking in sleep because I wasted some of my sleep time trying to think of a proper apology for my puny audience for not being around and not telling anyone about it.

Yes. I’m feeling a little stupid right now.

But it doesn’t matter. Because I’ve realized a little something.

There’s this snazzy thing called a queue (which I, uh, don’t know how to pronounce exactly) that allows you to write posts in advance and then auto-publishes it as a set time. Oh my god! Amazing, right?

That’s not my point.

Actually, I’d like to say that I hate using the queue. I absolutely positively hate hate hate using it. It’s like a locked door to a room that’s been constructed and furnished. Except even though it’s ready for viewing, we’re just going to keep it locked until a later time. And while the viewer doesn’t know about it, it bothers me so much. I get so jumpy and twitchy and hyper for no reason. It’s like all of a sudden, if I don’t publish this post right now, I’m gonna be shunned forever.

But probably a bigger problem with the queue is the fact that it encourages slacking. And for someone who claims (or at least sometimes wishes to be) a full time couch potato, encouraging slacking is not the best idea.

So here I go, rambling on and on again. But you get the point. I don’t like queues. And yes, the title seems to have nothing to do with the post. Maybe.