I'll tell you: nothing happened. Absolutely nothing that I shouldn't have expected. If anything, I should have planned for my plans to not go as planned. You'd think that after 20.75 years of learning from the typical trial and error process, I would know this by now (after all, it worked during my brief fascination with wet dog food – I quickly learned that dry tastes much better).
I stopped carrying a planner years ago when I realized that my plans changed too often for it to be worth my time and the space in my bag, yet I continue to be surprised when something I plan months in advance does not turn out exactly as imagined. Please tell me I'm not the only one.
My brother is getting married next month (see last post), despite the fact that I was quite sure he was still believed in cooties. I'll be living in Washington DC this fall during one of the most exciting political times in history, forcing me to drop 16 credits of classes, sell my housing contract and leave some people behind. And just last weekend, I somehow ended up at an abandoned building looking like something out of a horror movie.
Alright, I volunteered for that last one. But if you had asked me last week if I'd ever be covered in doll make-up and have my hair ratted badly enough to comfortably house a family of small rodents, I would have given you a funny look – much like I did the the 7-year-old at Walmart who asked me to buy him sexual enhancement products (you can't make this stuff up) – and told you to ask someone else.
And now, finally, the inspiration behind this post: today I received the most wonderful phone call from the most wonderful person ever. She called me to say that I had won the Bruce M. Kennedy essay scholarship – an (dare I say, wonderful) honor accompanied by a $1,500 check. And, thanks to some other unnamed scholarship forces, I have another $3,000 on its way.
Apparently, not all surprises (unplanned plans, in a single word) are out to get you.
While there are obviously greater blessing than money, this unplanned, unexpected phone call was a (wonderful) symphony to my ears. I've been particually stressed out about financing my DC trip lately. It seems as though some pool party of other financial stressors finally disbanded and all decided to make their way to me at the same time, much like women storming public potties in packs (but without all of the relief to be had.)
In all reality, it comes down to this. If anyone truly had perfect foresight, this like-father-like-daughter atrocity would have never happened: