From Frightened to Frightening

I had my Georgetown University admissions interview. And believe me, I was scared out of my pants. I met my interviewer at a Croissant Brioche, a cafe in the Rice Village area. Having arrived fifteen minutes early, I was flipping out until she finally got there six minutes late. Some of my qualms were subdued by the fact that she seemed equally nervous--evidently, it was her first time as an interviewer. She was pretty darn rad, and I'm not just saying that out of fear that Georgetown will Google me and read my blog. She was a Physics major, which happens to be the field that I want to go into, and is now a medical student. She considered going into the Air Force, enjoys how straightforward the subject of Physics is, and did a super job of coercing me into loving the idea of Georgetown.

So basically, she'll write me a nice, elegant letter of recommendation if she likes me, or not write one if she thinks I'm dull and vapid. Georgetown will take into account the recommendation, as well as my essays and test scores, and give me a response around mid-December. Because I applied Early Action, if I don't get in this round, I can always apply again Regular Decision for another chance. Go Hoyas.

Croissant Brioche, the place where my interview took place

Before the interview, my mother and I were stalling for time, so we stopped by Crave Cupcakes. I got a Nutella cupcake, and my mother got chocolate with vanilla icing. Best overpriced pastries in the world.

Both of the cupcakes in their pristine condition

My mother's partially-eaten cupcake

And then, I went home, put on heavy makeup, and handed out candy to children in a very creepy fashion. I was also blaring assorted "creepy" music for the neighborhood, including Bach's "Toccata and Fugue", "Transylvania Mania" from Young Frankenstein, the soundtrack to The Corpse Bride, and "Mad World" from Donnie Darko.

Myself, dressed as some ambiguous form of undead (probably a vampire or Morticia Adams), and my brother, dressed as a plastic army man