Ruby Slippers

So the big day was today. I moved into my college dorm.

The home/state-sickness is a deadweight in my chest. I can feel it, right behind the top of my sternum.

--

I Left My Heart in San Francisco, by Toby Bennett

--

Did I expect it? Yes. That's probably why I'm feeling it. I feel what I expect to feel, and it's ruining my first day of freedom from parents. I'm all by myself in my single dorm. I'm surprised, and so incredibly lucky, that I happened to come out at the same time as some other girls for dinner, so I didn't have to sit like a loser by myself at an empty table. I wasn't so lucky for the kick-off - as much as I like my RA, he's not very good at coordinating my floor into leaving at the same time. Everyone left before me, and I had to go to the field alone and sit in the middle of a crowd of strangers. Then it started raining halfway through - unpredictable weather already? - and I left with the crowd around me to avoid sitting in the bleachers, getting rained on, and surrounded by no one. I'm probably going to skip breakfast tomorrow too, because I have no one to go with. (*EDIT: I did skip.)

My new college seems to be exactly like my old high school, except I can't find anyone I consider to be "my people." All the guys look like popular jocks - I'm not even exaggerating when I say ALL - and all the girls look like the prep clique, just intensified. Approachable people (that is to say, people who aren't wearing expensive brands and lots of makeup; that's my definition) are nowhere to be found. I'm not even sure I can be classified as a minority in this student population, personality-wise. "I'm" virtually nonexistent. There are so few of "me" that I don't think there are more than 5% of "me" in the freshman class.

** I understand I'm supposed to go out and find them, and "of course there's more than 5%," but I sure can't find the introverts if we're all too shy to brave the ocean of confident cocky jocks and cheerleaders out there.

The awful thing is is that I've been feeling this way about my college for a long time. I felt like I had to settle for it, and I never really fell in love with it. My dad has been telling all his work friends about my choice of education, and they all say something along the lines of, "Oh, that college is a really good choice," or, "The campus there is beautiful, you're going to have so much fun." They all ask me what I'm looking forward to the most, and I have to BS some answer because I wasn't looking forward to anything other than freedom, and I can't say that in front of my parents. The atmosphere is exactly the opposite of the intellectual setting I wanted, but I can't do anything but suffer through it until I can get back to California.

All I want for Christmas...

I'm going to cut this post off early before it gets any more depressing. I should stop thinking about what I could've done, and focus more on how I can better my future. And I'd love to do that, I really would, but it's a bit late to change who I fundamentally am, and who I fundamentally am is not any good at approaching intimidating, out-of-one's-league people.

In other words, I'm screwed. Here's to a fantastic first year.

Big Girls Don't Cry, by Fergie

Cut the Cord

Allow me to be a Capt. Obvious for a second: summer is ending.

At the beginning of my junior year, the first time I only had six instead of seven classes, I would always think, "I'm late!" whenever the bell signaling the beginning of seventh period rang (seventh was always my free period). I was so used to going to class when it rang, it took a month to get accustomed to not going to all seven periods. It was surreal.

It should be like that now. I should be feeling really weird that high school has started, and I'm not there to catch up with friends I was too shy to socialize with over the summer, and compare schedules, and stake out a lunch spot claim for the rest of the year. It's like in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, where *SPOILER ALERT* Harry, Ron and Hermione are holed up in Grimmauld Place, hiding from Death Eaters, and not being able to board the Hogwarts Express. I've already shipped my Potter series out to college, so I can't directly quote, but I think Ron says something along the lines of, "I've been thinking about that, it should've left ten minutes ago. Weird, isn't it? Not being on the train?" And then Harry wonders whether Neville and Luna and the rest of the Hogwarts crew are wondering where they (Harry, Ron, and Hermione) are, and discussing how to best survive Snape's new reign as headmaster. *END SPOILER ALERT* It should be like that, where not going to high school is a strange and unsettling experience. I should feel something odd, if not last-minute panic about finishing summer homework.

I don't.

I think that I've finally come to grips with the fact that high school is over, forever. It wasn't a shock, or a sudden revelation. There was a moment in early June where I was reading in my room when suddenly I felt a physical punch to my stomach, and I thought, Oh God, high school is OVER, it's never happening again, this is IT, and I literally felt my muscles tighten for a moment. But then it passed, and I went back to feeling as though senior year would repeat itself.

Instead of a shock, I guess it just happened - "slowly, and then all at once." ( :) ) I don't feel weird at all that I'm not at school. I don't feel like I need to get supplies, or get up early to get ready, or anything. I know friends that are at school, and yeah, I'm like, Suckers, but I just know that I don't belong there anymore. Do I miss it? Yes. Do I wish I was one of them again? Partially. But I somehow just got over that, at some point. I'm not deluded anymore.

I've still got about a week from yesterday before I leave for college, and I'm freaking out a little bit more about that. I was put into a singles dorm, which may sound like a dream, but I'm actually really nervous for the first few weeks. The way I see it, if you have a room mate, you've always got someone to hang out with, especially for the first Welcome Week. I've heard there are lots of concerts lining up - who am I going to get ready and go with? Their cafeteria is huge - who will I sit with? It takes about thirty minutes to walk from one end of campus to the other - who will explore it all with me? I mean, I have made some tentative friends already, but they all live in the cluster of dorms removed thirty minutes from campus. Just my luck.

I entered middle school with zero friends, and that killed my social confidence stone cold dead. If I feel completely alone like that for college too, I will never forgive myself. These are supposed to be some of the best years of my life. I don't want to spend more time than necessary trying to find friends without appearing annoying or needy. People say college is totally different from high school, but I guess mine's not like that. I can already see the cliques forming up - and in only two days. It might already be too late to find an on-campus group to chill with before school really starts.

--

I started this post yesterday, and visited my high school today to return some expensive art supplies. I bumped into some old friends (they are not seniors and juniors, they are still juniors and sophomores, I maintain), talked to my favorite teachers, and stood in shock at the floor remodeling in the science wing of the C Building.

I felt so removed from it all. Don't get me wrong, it was wonderful seeing my old "stomping grounds" again, but I didn't feel a part of it anymore. This wasn't my school, it was just some place that's firmly categorized in my past now. I sure did feel nostalgic, but I also felt pretty superior. Like,  I see you staring, can I help you? I'm a college student, so keep your punk ass walking. What? You're pointing me out to your friends? I don't care. I don't have time for you. I'm so over this scene.

Oh God, it's happening. I'm becoming a condescending adult. God save me. Where are my childish book series? Oh, I'm missing my entire Potter collection? Damn, that was my go-to. What can I do to become immature again? My dad's hiding my video games... Oh wait, technically, I actually am an adult?

Anyways, that's probably the last I'll see of my high school for a long time. I feel no bitterness, no sadness*. Without realizing it, I've already moved on. I may not look forward 100% to where I'm going next, but I'm certainly not glancing back over my shoulder, except for my friends, I suppose.

*I actually am sad, but for my childhood. It is officially over. I've never liked the idea of growing up ( I cried on my first double-digit birthday) but now I've finally reached the grown-up checkpoint. Innocence is over. Denial has begun.

So my ending question for this post, since I haven't done one of those in a while, is: What can I do during my college years to postpone the inevitable transformation into a life-ravaged adult? How can I hold onto my precious immaturity?

It was a Thursday yesterday, so I don't feel any qualms about linking a #throwbackthursday song.

Sirius/Eye in the Sky, by The Alan Parson's Project:

**If you enjoyed that, I suggest you check out Mammagamma too, also by TAPP.

"I Wish That I Could Be Like The"

At the beginning of this summer, I discovered what a color run is. I pretty much hate extended running, but getting sprayed with dye so you come out as a vivid mess at the end? Sounds awesome. Trouble is, I don't have a lot of friends who like to exercise (like me) or who would be willing to pay the registration fee, but I did know one. I hit her up, and she said it looked awesome, so we decided to do it and I got my ticket. The run is this weekend.

Yesterday she let me know, after I contacted her first about battle plans, that she couldn't make it after all. I sympathized, even though I was kinda mad she didn't let me know herself, because I assumed she had a good reason (which she did). Then I mentioned what a waste it was of her money, and she told me she never even got a ticket in the first place.

Like, are you serious? When were you planning on telling me?

So I was talking to another friend, and realized she might be interested in it. I let her know, and she sounded really excited, but told me that she would have to get back to me the next day. Thing is, this friend is kind of known to me for bailing last minute, and for not keeping promises about responding soon, so I wasn't surprised when (after I contacted her first - again) she told me six hours later she forgot about another event scheduled for the same time and couldn't make it.

So yes, I'm pretty pissed at the both of them, but it's not really in my nature to stay mad or hold grudges, and I don't want them to feel bad about making me mad (refer to previous post - it takes a lot to make angry), so I'm just letting it go after I rant about it here.

But my key point here isn't really to list how other people tick me off. I was thinking about it, and I realized that freshman me wouldn't have even thought about inviting other people to functions, for fear of rejection. Isolation is one of my biggest fears, and the thought of them having to outright say they didn't want to hang out terrified fourteen year old me. And now, here I am, more pissed than broken by the fact that weekend is open again.

Amazing. Here I was thinking that my personality didn't change too much during my time at high school. After all, I'm still shy in large groups - but only of strangers. I adore hang outs with twenty plus something people, as long as they are all my friends/close acquaintances. I don't make new friends easily - except when it's one-on-one talking. I met a cool guy from a different school near the end of my senior year - an absolute, intimidating stranger - and now I talk to him more than I talk to most friends who went to my actual school. 

Have I actually changed that much? What, or who, prompted this change? I'm trying to remember when exactly I started acting like this, and can't pinpoint it to any certain time. I'm grateful though - I'd much rather forgive and forget than obsess over how no one likes me and be depressed for days. Is this just me maturing - becoming a little more callous and insensitive to how others view me? I've seen so many memes on the internet about then and nows: the then teenager worrying about what everyone thinks, the now adult kicking back with a martini and not giving a damn about what others think. I'd always laugh inside, and tell myself I'll always be self-conscious, but now...

Case in point.

I guess what throws me the most is that there must be a scientific, chemical reason behind it, and it's not so much that I changed myself for the better, but that my brain stopped releasing some hormone or decreased/increased output levels or whatever. I mean, if it happens to pretty much everyone (and it seems that it does), then I didn't make myself grow up. I literally just acquired enough years and my mind entered a new stage. That's it. So much for self-discovery.

Anyways, since I've gotten into a whole new genre of music, I'm going to post a new list of my top ten songs like I did a while back.

Not in order of importance.

Favorite Songs: 
1. King for a Day
2. Secret Valentine
3. Ten Thousand Feet
4. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid
5. Don't Look Now, I'm Being Followed
6. Radio Arcade
7. Injection
8. If You Can't Hang
9. This Is War
10. I Found Away (feat. Douglas P)

**This is not to say that I don't like alternative anymore, to make that clear. I just didn't post any alternative songs because I haven't been exploring that genre too much as of late, other than to listen to Owl City's new EP or shuffle through old songs.

This one song though, this one song I identify with so much that it's going to forever be one of my favorites, no matter how the list fluctuates in the coming years. I'll hopefully be ninety someday, and showing it to my grandchildren (if I ever have any, it's kind of doubtful ATM), and telling them that, for the majority of my high school career, this was exactly what I felt. Word for word. That's why it's not above.

Cool Kids, by Echosmith

Music is my therapy.

Out of My Comfort Zone

I returned from my two week trip in China yesterday, and I seriously can't remember the last time I felt such joy as I did when looking out at the familiar golden hills of the Bay Area after 15 hours of travel.

I have never liked visiting China. Apart from the comfort drawbacks (long flights, muggy air, ten mosquito bites the first night), there's also the fact that everyone (in the rural places I visited) is Asian. Literally everyone. After four years of avoiding a trip back, of living in the middle of whitewashed relatives and neighborhoods, that was the first time I've been completely surrounded by Asians. And I hated it.

A little background: I'm not a "full-blooded"Asian. I've gotten questions from people when we've recently met asking about my ethnicity, because I look relatively Asian but I have a Scottish surname. I grew up, despite my mother's best efforts, identifying as white because all my friends were fair-skinned and I saw the white side of my family a lot more frequently than I did my maternal Asian side. I know now that I look predominantly Asian, but I'm legally registered as white (by legally I mean on school papers) and old self-impressions die hard.

Fast-forward a few years: In middle school, I start getting called Asian, and it's one of the biggest surprises of my life. I learn that, to all these easily sunburnt folk in my city (I use that term endearingly), I don't look white. I've gotten used to that by now, and easily call myself Asian around people, but still can't help but play up my white side whenever I get the chance, just to (probably unnecessarily) remind people that being Asian isn't all that I am. My ancestor helped found Pennsylvania, for God's sake, and I'm related by marriage to Buffalo Bill. How much more 'Murican can I get (see what I did there?)?

To the present: I discover that, in China, I look white.

Thank goodness I'm already used to being the minority. Otherwise I probably would've undergone a HUGE identity crisis.

How do I know this? Well, not only did a lot people stare at me for longer than usual wherever I went (which got really uncomfortable in situations where I couldn't keep moving, like public transportations or park gazebos), most shopkeepers and hotel concierges would speak to me at first in English. Which is fine with me, because four years of neglect has all but stripped me of my ability to speak Chinese. I can still perfectly understand everything though. This becomes important later on.

There was this one infuriating situation, where I was standing in line for train tickets while my parents held a place in the other line. We were keeping tabs on each other to see who would reach the front first. There was a middle-aged man standing in front of me who kept turning around periodically to stare around at his surroundings, as many native Chinese are wont to do. Every time he did this, I would just stare at my suitcase to avoid awkward eye contact. To him, it probably looked like I was unaware of anything else.

Dear sir, you forgot about peripherals.

I noticed, with my peripheral vision, that he was in fact staring at me every time he turned around to casually scan. After about twenty minutes of this (lines in China move slowly), I had had enough and looked directly back at him every time he turned. This seemed only to amuse him, as not only did he not stop turning around every few seconds, he would now have this smirk on his face, like, "Aw, cute, it's getting mad." After about ten more minutes of this, and after one particularly uncomfortable long stare down, he turned to the front, tapped on the shoulder of the woman in front of him, and whispered to her that "the silly foreign girl behind me is angry" (that is an approximate translation). He then turned around to grin broadly at me, while the woman just openly stared.

A word to the wise, and to the ridiculously stupid and ignorant: never make a chill person angry enough to take action. It was my great pleasure letting that foolish man know I speak Chinese. I wish I could've taken a photo of his face when he realized that I had understood everything he'd been saying.

There were more subtle occurrences throughout the trip that let me know people knew I wasn't 100% one of them. And while I'm used to being part of the minority, I'm not singled out back in the U.S. because of it. In China, looking different meant unacceptance. Everywhere I went (especially in the countryside) people made it openly clear that they were shocked to see me among them. More shocked than, say, they were when they also saw my mom, a born-and-bred Chinese. I didn't necessarily feel shunned, but I definitely felt a lot more eyes than usual. Even as an Asian in a white neighborhood, I have never remembered feeling so much attention before in my life because of people's perception of my ethnicity.

Hence my overwhelming happiness at finally being home again. Never before have I identified so strongly with my my home city/state. And this couldn't have come at a worser time.

I'm already having difficulty understanding that I'm moving out of my beloved home state to go to college. Now, too late, do I realize that I never wanted to leave California, not only because it's the chillest state (shut up, I know I'm biased, and I'm loving it), but because I'll miss the unique dynamics one simply doesn't find inland. I've already noticed that the few friends I made at orientation don't quite behave or speak the same way my friends do. It goes further beyond the slang (I've already said "hella" and "ratchet" to these people when talking though, and I noticed a slight hesitation in their responses. This threw me more than it should've). It's impossible to explain, but already even the easy comfort of conversation with cool people is taken from me. Inland people are just unsettlingly different.

Speaking of which, what will I do without the ocean?

It's sad that I'm already considering transferring back to a university in California, without having even gone to my new school. But it's true. I haven't left yet and I want back in. Even if I do make it all four years with disparate seasons (what is weather), one of the criteria for grad school is that it MUST be in California. I don't want to find a job and settle down after uni in any other state.

Only when presented with the loss of something I've taken for granted do I realize how deeply I've always treasured it. Isn't that always the case?

--

Now that college is starting soon, I want to take up this blog again. I'm sure in the future I'll want to know what I was thinking and feeling at this point.

--

I've recently, due to a new friend's recommendations, gotten into the post-hardcore genre this summer. Looking back at an old post where I openly bash screamo, it's kind of funny that now nearly a third of my iTunes library is composed of punk and hardcore rock. I guess I really trust his taste.

It's exceedingly difficult to choose just one P-H song to post, but here it is:

A Match Into Water, by Pierce the Veil (Explicit)

And if you, reader, dislike screamo, here's another one of my new all-time-favorites that's not so... dissonant:

Secret Valentine, by We the Kings

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You... Smaller?

link

I especially like it when he talks about apologizing after crying because you made the other person uncomfortable. But all I care about is the stuff before the first bold print.

The only point of this post was to remind myself, when I'm older and looking back, of how the younger generations are capable of feeling (all right, nearly) every emotion adults do. I don't want to be one of those people who look down on children and teens, simply because I think their lack of experience in life rends them incapable of anything other than blissful childhood happiness.

***EDIT (1/3/15): I checked the link, and it's gone. Sorry. The title was, "Do Your Emotions Make You Weak," if that sheds any context.

Bleed It Out

I once heard or read somewhere that when you encounter a problem that seems to smother your entire world, you take a step back and ask yourself what I dub (since the Internet is refusing to find me the name regardless of any keyword I put in - ) The Five 5 Questions.

1. Will I care in five minutes?
2. Will I care in five days?
3. Will I care in five weeks?
4. Will I care in five months?
5. Will I care in five years?

I was/am going through huge social crises for (mockingly typed) poor, shy, introverted me this week, and there were multiple times where, to a stranger's vision, I would sit cross-legged on my bed and, at random intervals in time, close my eyes and make faces or grab the hair at my temples and rock back and forth.

But I only answered yes to the first two questions, as I don't care enough to do the math so I will approximate that I will be out of high school in five weeks, and likely never see these problematic people again.

So why do I still obsess over them? I hardly have the power to go back and change what's happened, and I severely dislike people who complain about what they should have done, much more than I dislike people who complain about what they can do now. Sure, they're complaining, but at least it's about something potentially useful. Sadly, I see myself in the former. I'm not angsty enough (anymore, haha) to say I despise myself, but I do despise my cowardice, especially since nothing good has come of it.

And something out there should get off their behind and grant me some serenity to not be so defensive all. The. Time. Teenagers are invincible, I am invincible, but I am not always right. My precise and exact sense of justice is not the same as everyone else's. Forgiveness comes slowly, but it's hard to know if you're forgiven when you can't tell if the person is being sarcastic to you in a good-natured teasing way, or if they are purposefully aiming to wound. I fully and openly admit I use sarcasm as if it were a constant dialect of mine, but I would never, ever be sarcastic if I were in a serious conversation, where wrongly chosen words can leave permanent rifts. Unlike others, apparently.

No. I will absolutely not judge them for what I think is a misplaced use of sarcasm. I won't be bitter.

I will not. I will not. I will not. Sure. I'll just keep telling myself that. Let's see all the good it does.

---

For the first time in two years, high school is my hellhole. While my problems may not exceed any great period of time to be considered "serious," I'll consume my time with "what if"s and "if only"s anyway until a week later, when enough time has lapsed. And all this at the end of my great career too. I have such a sense of timing.

Haha, see? My dialect is bleeding through.

That phrase gives me an idea for my ending song.

"Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park. Explicit.

Nearly perfect song. I heavily dislike the screamo-ish thing in the middle, but as for the rest, angry music calms an angry heart.

Ragefest

I feel like throwing things, breaking down, curling up, crying hard, running fast, and throwing up.

Not necessarily in that order. But particularly the throwing things part. Probably because there are a pile of tempting pillows in my vicinity.

Backstory:

As my IRL friends know, I have/had some bad history with a former best friend's ex. When they broke up, I felt obliged to completely ignore him, as was my duty to shun the guy who dared cause my bestie discomfort. Problem was, we had become pretty good friends during their one-year relationship. So when I started giving him the cold shoulder, it was pretty awkward. I didn't really like what I was doing, but considered it the social protocol, especially since said bestie was ranting about him quite a lot for the first few days.

He didn't get it for the first year and a half after the breakup. Things weren't helped by a different friend, who teased me with "liking" this guy, and that only served to make me distance myself even further. He would say hi, I would make some noncommittal noise. Reset, repeat. In the end, halfway through my junior year, the hellos and hugs decreased in number until we were both completely ignoring each other. He graduated last year without me ever getting up the courage to apologize.

Flash-forward to end of junior year:

This guy, who is super-uber smart, gets accepted to a very prestigious school. Because I'm a baby and don't like confrontations, I decided I wouldn't even consider said school because I don't want to run into him there, or look like I was following him. Besides, I figured I wouldn't have any chance of getting in anyways. Instead, because another university in the same city roundabouts started sending me letters and other paraphernalia, I looked into it, and was very impressed by what I saw. However, it's very difficult to get into, but that didn't stop me from applying. I figured, what the heck? It became my unreachable university, somewhere I could apply just to see if I could get in.

Flash-flash-forward to three days ago:

I got wait listed for my university. I was in complete and utter shock. My application, though I tried way too hard on it for something I thought I would get rejected from, apparently made up in EC activities what it lacked in grades. And I've read that lots of people who are accepted turn down their offer, so there's still a good chance I can get in.

Here comes the "but."

But I've read online that, since the two prestigious schools I've mentioned are so close to each other, people can't help but compare them. And what I've read hasn't exactly boded well. From what I read, my wait listed school (henceforth known as school A) is ever so slightly higher in national and international standing, but the atmosphere is very intellectual. The majority of people study hard and rarely do anything else, and the small small minority join frats and get drunk every weekend.

Contrast this with a university (henceforth known as school B) with a campus that isn't as beautiful, but has much more school spirit and is a little more social-oriented, while still being regarded as a highly academic school. Its student population is more diverse, as in there are lots more people who are really smart but still like to let loose often - more often than school A, anyways.

Now, if I were an introverted girl who cared deeply about my grades and disliked hanging out with other people, then school A would be my absolute dream school. No parties, just loads of time to study for what really matters. But while I do care about my grades, I don't care about them to the extent that people at school A do. I really like to be with other people, and not just one type of person either. I've tried to identify myself with a clique at my high school, but couldn't. I'm not a nerd, because I dislike studying and I don't have straight A's. Not musical, because I can't march around with a piano for band and I'm too shy to sing in front of virtual strangers. Not a jock - never participated in any school sports. Or attended any, for that matter. Not a prep/cheerleader - I don't have enough money to waste on looking good. Not an Azn - I'm not really into the whole kawaii/peace sign/sqee-ing all the time thing I notice they do. Plus, a lot of my friends aren't even Asian. I have many wonderful friends, but I don't belong in any category.

Which university would be better for me, according to this? The one with a uniform student population, or the one with more personality diversity? The one that centers on studies, or the one that allows for more fun too?

I hope you now understand my problem. I've applied and hopefully will get into an acclaimed university, but only NOW do I realize it was the wrong acclaimed university all along. When it's TOO LATE. All because of some guy.

Salt in the wound: These two universities are only 40 minutes away from each other. SO CLOSE, and yet so far away.

Sorry for all the self-pity going on here, but I need to rant and as I never told my parents about this most awkward time of my high school experience, I want to get it out somehow. And that somehow is to make lists.

Lots of them.

Pros of School A:

• Huge achievement if I do get in.
•  Known for graduating classes that go on to be very successful.
• Located on a lovely campus.
• Has four houses (like Hogwarts).

Con of School A:

• Has the wrong social atmosphere.
• Basically has no Greek life.
• Located near a "ghetto" neighborhood.
• Too focused on academics.

Pros of School B:

• Still a pretty good achievement if I am able to transfer (I've heard it's easier to transfer into colleges than get accepted from high school).
• Has a lovely campus.
• Better social atmosphere (more Greek life).
• Known for graduating classes that go on to be very successful.

Cons of School B:

• Difficult to get into.
• Not as academically acclaimed as school A.
• Freezing weather.
• Might see The Guy wandering around.

Call me immature, but that last con is actually a pretty big deal to me.

This post has been two days in two days in the making, and I've calmed down considerably since then. I've done some more research, and while I'm still angry at myself for not considering school B, I've accepted my mistake and am looking into other options, like transferring. Of course, this all depends on me getting into school A in the first place. I don't think I'd want to transfer from a lesser college, because then I'd feel that I don't deserve it.

Yes, I also realize what an ungrateful lout I'm being. Here I am, being considered for a really good university, and all I'm doing is griping about how I want to go somewhere else. Humor me.

I've also done more research on waitlisting, and I've realized that I may not even need to worry about going to school A or B. After reading this article, I realize I may not even get off the list. The chances of getting completely rejected mid-May are so high I don't really want to think about it. I still really want to go to that university, since I've already come so far, but I'll definitely schedule a meeting with my college counselor before deciding on what, exactly, I can do to let school A know I'm still interested. If you, reader, have had any experience with this sort of thing, I would welcome any advice.

I've dug around a bit more and found this thread, which basically is school A telling waitlisted students what they can do to help boost their status a little bit. I'm still worried, but having a plan helps.

College is not turning out the way I'd hoped. C'est la vie.