I got mail today: the proofs of my cap and gown pictures and a letter from my third-choice college. The proofs were pretty awful, the letter was worse. What are the odds I'll be accepted to my first two choices if not even the third will take me?

My grandfather owes me money; he said I'd get four for four. I wish people wouldn't think I'm better than I am, if that makes any sense. In the thirty million, "where'd you apply?" conversations I've participated in, most people have predicted similar outcomes for me. Flattering, yes, but I'm not that good and probably never was.

Heavens, I'm eloquent. Don't even start thinking about your essays, Ivy, no good's going to come of that.

I'm going to go wring my hands some more and make plans for my life as a lackey.

Adieu.