I know none of you are reading this, and I know this because I got one single comment on my last blog about our beloved Captain Phil.
But I feel like I should be writing something, anything at this point because I really enjoy doing it and that's what matters, right.
Last night, while trying to sleep, I realized that I haven't been a freshman in high school in 20 years. Twenty years! I started to freak out a little, and Jay tried calming me down by pointing out that kids that just got their licenses weren't even born when I graduated, and surprise surprise, I felt worse. Fucker. Absolutely no help at all, but thanks.
And the reason I am thinking about being a freshman, is because I will be heading back to school April 5. I applied and was accepted to The Art Institute of Seattle in the Culinary Arts program. I will officially be in the Baking and Pastry program, and will graduate in a little over a year. Because I graduated with a 3.7 (which isn't impressive if you know that I was a t.a., took CWP (Current World Problems, which basically consisted of watching the news)stoned every day, and accounting the last semester of my senior year, so I would basically have to be in the special ed. department to NOT graduate with at least a 3.7), I got some great scholarships, along with some grants, and good old financial aid. All I've had to pay is the application and program fee, and the rest comes 6 months after graduation. They were able to tell me my monthly payments up front, which helped out a lot. I like knowing how far in the ass I'll be taking it beforehand, it helps me relax a little.
Anyway, Jay and everyone else has been telling me to take classes on baking and pastry for years, and I finally just decided to check out some schools. When it came down to it, I didn't want to take a class here or a class there at a community college. Not that they don't have some great programs, but it wasn't what I was looking for. I guess if we're going to go into debt for school, it had better be a good school that has some weight to it. Luckily, Jay was on board. I loved the woman that would be my adviser, she answered all the questions I threw at her while taking me on a tour of the Culinary Arts building. I have to say I got a little moist when I saw the industrial size stand mixers I would be using. Sweet goodness, I was beyond hooked at that point. And to make it all the more appeal ling, the school is right on Elliott Bay, so all the windows face Puget Sound. It was breath taking. I was even more impressed with the fact I can take all my classes at night, 2 days a week. The more she talked, the more doable it seemed. And then came the part of the tour I had been dreading. Financial Aid. I swear I heard "Dun dun duuuuuuunnnnnnnnn" when I walked through the financial aid officers door.
Luckily, she calmed me down and said that most people, bad credit people included, received close to, if not all, of their tuition through financial aid, scholarships and grants. After filling out the paperwork, she checked it out, and without giving me a for sure answer, she said my chances of getting most of it not all of my schooling paid was pretty high. Let's face it, we are a single income family for 5 people. She gave me all the information to go home and fill out, along with my FAFSA information. And the minute I got home, I filled it out online and had it back to her the next day.
A few days later, the news came that the Board loved me, and I had full financial backing that covered not only my tuition, but my uniforms and supplies, too. I was so very excited!
Anyway, I cannot wait for April 5 to get here. I go in for my uniform fittings and to get my supply case full of knives and pastry products early in March, and I cannot wait to play around with them.
The best part of all is knowing that if Jay kicks the bucket at some point, I will have something in place to help my family along. I have been a stay at home mom for almost 7 years now, and what I knew back then is out of date. I know that all sounds morbid, and I've put off thinking like that for years. But as my best friend, Melissa, pointed out, burying my head in the sand doesn't mean it won't happen.