To Admire

I don’t know for sure, but I have a little hint (in the form of a winky face, like so: ;) ) that I may be headed for you-know-where in February. My sister is convinced that the winky face tells all, that I’m going. Ah, but we shall see!

Anyway, I mention this in passing to my dad, while I’m making summer rolls.

He says he thinks I would be better off going to our nearest neighborhood unaccredited for-profit “career” colleges. I am not too phased, as he told me in high school that I likely wouldn’t get into or be able to afford college (my father is so much of a depressive realist, he’s more just like a plain old nihilist.) That hurt a lot more than this little irrational jab of his.

Sprinkling on mung bean sprouts and cilantro, I spout off the average financial aid package students at the college I am attending receive. In my dad’s follow-up comments, he made it readily apparent that he does not understand the college application process, financial aid, grants, or, uh, me. So, I am not too worried about his comment. Worried enough, addled enough, I suppose, to tumbl about it, right?

He just has a knack for stunting, shunting the growth of any little seed of hope or self-esteem that trickles into my heart.