realizing for the first time that money does make the world go round. I was kind of on the miserable side. Enter: my amazing father. A little chat with admissions, and the money we needed was ours.
When he told me that it was all going to work out, I flipped. You can't imagine how unbelievable those words were. I wasn't allowed to spill to my friends until the official letter came, so the waiting game played on.
I was home alone that day. I think it was spring break. Every hour or so, I'd set down my guitar and dash outside to check the mailbox. It had become a common practice for me. When, finally, that conserve-branded envelope showed up, I sprinted down the driveway, tore it open, and just laughed. I couldn't keep the happiness down. "I'm going to Conserve! I am going to be a student at Conserve!" I told myself over and over, not believing it at all. I hardly knew what I was getting in to.
The summer following eighth grade was a whirlwind at best. On top of that typical teenage drama, I was getting ready to leave home- and I was just 13. It'd be a lie to say I was purely excited, as the nerves and anxiety often outweighed looking forward to it. Some little voice inside my head told me I was ready, though. So I trudged on.
The nerves weren't about homesickness or change or anything like that. You see, despite all the thought I had put into applying to Conserve, I had forgot one minor detail. Not long after my acceptance I realized I'd be tossed in with 150 kids I didn't know at all, and be expected to get along well and live with them. This wouldn't be a problem, if I didn't have a crazy fear of people. Ten people I didn't know in one room could send me into a full out panic attack. This was going to be me getting thrown to the lions.
At any rate, the few weeks prior to leaving were hell. Home brought hectic to a
When he told me that it was all going to work out, I flipped. You can't imagine how unbelievable those words were. I wasn't allowed to spill to my friends until the official letter came, so the waiting game played on.
I was home alone that day. I think it was spring break. Every hour or so, I'd set down my guitar and dash outside to check the mailbox. It had become a common practice for me. When, finally, that conserve-branded envelope showed up, I sprinted down the driveway, tore it open, and just laughed. I couldn't keep the happiness down. "I'm going to Conserve! I am going to be a student at Conserve!" I told myself over and over, not believing it at all. I hardly knew what I was getting in to.
The summer following eighth grade was a whirlwind at best. On top of that typical teenage drama, I was getting ready to leave home- and I was just 13. It'd be a lie to say I was purely excited, as the nerves and anxiety often outweighed looking forward to it. Some little voice inside my head told me I was ready, though. So I trudged on.
The nerves weren't about homesickness or change or anything like that. You see, despite all the thought I had put into applying to Conserve, I had forgot one minor detail. Not long after my acceptance I realized I'd be tossed in with 150 kids I didn't know at all, and be expected to get along well and live with them. This wouldn't be a problem, if I didn't have a crazy fear of people. Ten people I didn't know in one room could send me into a full out panic attack. This was going to be me getting thrown to the lions.
At any rate, the few weeks prior to leaving were hell. Home brought hectic to a
