Scrutinize Me This.

You know, writing a blog is nerve-wracking. There are always those wanna-be bloggers out there, delusional and tapping away on the keys about some supposed brilliance or another. Who cares if you painted your nursery periwinkle? I know I have mentioned this before, so I will cut to the chase and say that I am afraid to be one of those, too.

I hope someone would tell me if I am delusional.


Anyways, Nathan and I just returned from Valhalla, NY, where he interviewed at New York Medical College. The day of his interview was incredibly rainy and I was not allowed into the Admissions building.

These people were like the Gestapo with their security. When I was attempting to park the SUV after dropping Nathan off, I was halted by a gate. Pressing the button to speak with security did nothing. I waited for about thirty seconds. "Hello?" I said. Then another thirty. Then, "Hello, is anyone there?" Pressed the button again. "Hello?!" Waited a full minute. Finally, trying not to utter an expletive under my breath, I pressed the button again and said, "I think your thing is broken! I can't hear a thing! I need to park my car! I'm here for Admissions!" I did yell this whole thing into the intercom.

Finally, a crackle was heard from the other side so I repeated myself for greater emphasis. "Hello! Your thing is broken! I need to park my car!!" The gate started and went up and I parked the SUV in the last available spot.

Then, when I made it into their student center (sans umbrella and dripping wet), I noticed this printed on sheets of paper on every door: "Please have your NYMC ID ready at all times. You will be stopped and asked for ID."

"Well, darn." I thought. Hesitantly, I sat down in their union went on Facebook on my phone for a while. I think every security guard that passed eyeballed me, but not a one asked to see ID.

I just want Nathan to get into medical school this year.