Real talk: I don’t deal well with rejection.

This time last year, I was flying high, preparing to dominate the GRE (which I did, don’t worry). I was applying for a dual degree program that I felt fairly confident I’d get into after hearing from former professors, current mentors, bosses, parents, friends, family members, and anyone in between that I was totally set for it.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t get in. 

On my way to a beer pairing dinner (what else?), my beau called me to mention a (not-so-big) envelope was in the mail from the only school I applied to. My heart skipped several beats as he drove the 3 minutes over to drop off my envelope. He waited with me as I tore open the frail paper, smiling the whole time.  He grinned, excited for the next step in my life, proud of me. Then, he watched, as the hope in my heart was torn out as, eyes glistening, I looked up at him.

Crestfallen is not a word I use often, but no word better describes how I feel I must’ve looked at that moment.

I don’t remember the last time before that which dealt me that feeling of rejection. It may have been show choir in middle school. Needless to say, mature 12 year old that I was refused to ever try out for that same choir again. Don’t worry, I showed them all in high school by rocking every national anthem singing I could get my hands on (or my vocal pipes on?) But other than that, I just wasn’t accustomed to rejection. I made the athletic teams I tried out for, I got into the colleges I applied to, and got a bid in the fraternity of my dreams.  But the bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?

I fell hard that day, and it took me months to even contemplate what I would do next.

As I open myself up for that same rejection again (applying for a whole new round of schools because I have no interest in putting all my eggs in one basket like I did last year), I’m stressed, scared, and anxious.  Yes, I’m hopeful, but all those other adjectives have a tendency to block that hope.

In an attempt to lighten the mood (my mood, honestly), I’ve decided to whip up a post about what I really should study at a graduate level.  I could probably teach a course on the following subjects:

1. Introductory Event Announcing

Translation? Be the loudest person in a large group. Inevitably, someone will need SOMETHING announced, right? Thank goodness I got all that vocal rest the year I didn’t get into show choir.

2. Siberian Temperature Denial

Nearly frozen ocean? Dive on in.

Middle of the winter? Heaters are for suckers and saps.

Outdoor football tailgate at the end of the season? Grab that mini skirt.

Flip flops are a requirement at all times, snowfall included.

I refuse to admit it’s winter. It’s sort of like an art.

3. Unretentive Privacy 

Translation? I force people to pinky swear about things and never remember why.

In the past 3 years, I’ve demanded about 48 people to pinky swear something with me. I remember approximately none of these secrets.  Shhh… don’t tell.

4. Overenthusiasm in Formal Attire

Whether it’s a wedding, a convention, a banquet, or a cocktail party, chances are I’ll end up singing. Loudly. I’ll jump up and down and, if you’re lucky, I’ll pump the Jersey right out of my fist. I’m never not ready to party harder than all the other guests.

In fact, just inviting me to a party is basically a challenge.

CHALLENGE: ACCEPTED!!

5. Advanced Theme Party Dedication

Paranormal Party?  Only the most dedicated theme-party-goers would cover their body head-to-toe in long-lasting fake blood for a Carrie costume.

I was pink for days.

Unfortunately for me (and really, for the whole world), these are not viable educational paths. I guess I’ll have to get back to the real applications….

What would be your dream educational path?  

What fictitious course could you teach to a class full of eager students?