Tex-Yes (Again)

Allison here. 

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Somehow, against all odds, I’m going to college in the fall. An actual, accredited institution read my application, saw my SAT scores, reviewed my resume, and, for some reason, concluded I would be a proper addition to their university. I’m not saying an admission officer made a mistake, I’m just saying a few people may have been highly delusional when selecting me out of thousands of applicants. One of my essays mentioned that I mailed a potato to Erica but apparently that didn’t raise any red flags.

Since the concentration of goat populations was a main priority for me when choosing this aforementioned university, I dare say this graph makes it fairly obvious what state I’ll living in come this August.

I don’t really know how I stumbled upon Baylor University. I’ve always been aware of the existence of the school, the way everyone is seemingly born with inherent knowledge that ice cream is delicious and spray tans look bad. I knew about Baylor, but I wasn’t considering it as a real option; after all, who spends their days thinking about how orange a fake tan will make them look when they’re busy with other time consuming hobbies like making flower crowns and baking black bean brownies? Baylor, much like the spray tan, was a back up plan. No one really wants to make themselves look like an Oompa Loompa. But I digress.

I first talked about Baylor University with my brother, Austen. I was pacing the living room while chatting over the phone with him, telling him about the colleges I had recently spent time researching. I babbled on about Baylor’s unique honors program, amazing football team, and, of course, my eligibility for a full tuition scholarship. I was excited about the school, but this was the same brother who told me I could go to an Ivy League if I wanted; we both knew Baylor was a far cry from the type college I planned on attending. So as my list of college applications grew, Baylor sat contentedly at the bottom of the list, along with state schools and other fall back options.

That conversation with my brother occurred sometime in the summer, but then November rolled by and Baylor was one of only two schools I was still considering. Somewhere between a junior year filled with life changes and a senior year of finding my own sense of contentment, I realized my desire to attend an Ivy League was shallowly rooted in a desire to appear successful to others. So when leaves started falling off the trees and application deadlines rolled by, I decided I didn’t have much of a desire to “Aim High” like all of those Applying to College 101 books told me I should. I was sick of sacrificing my happiness for the appearance of great success. I decided maybe Aiming High meant being able to put aside my own pride long enough to choose a school that would help me grow as a person more than just make me look good on the outside.

So I applied to Baylor. And then I was accepted to Baylor. And then I visited Baylor. And then I fell in love with Baylor. So here I am, entirely done with my senior year of high school (editor’s note: YASSS), ready to ship myself across the country to a state that has a bad habit of flying the confederate flag.

I’ve slowly fallen in love with everything about the school. Besides the violent heat, which scares me because of my aversion to summer clothing, I’ve become enamored with everything about Baylor. The student body is kind and passionate, my academic program is flexible, the campus is beautiful, and my future roommate is amazing. Little by little, Baylor University has become everything I’ve been spending the past four years dreaming about: it’s become The Perfect College™.

The entire Erica-is-also-going-to-a-college-in-Texas thing is coincidental, but it does give us major street cred for top notch Best Friend Goals. While Erica attends school in Austin, I’ll be 101 miles north of her in Waco, Texas. Google maps informed me it would take a mere 36 hours to walk to the University of Texas, so I’m sure you’ll catch me on the shoulder of Interstate 35 on some holiday weekends.

Your two favorite bloggers will still be posting at terribly infrequent intervals and inconvenient times, but now we’ll be doing so from the Lone Star State. Keep your eyes peeled.


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