<p>Okay. So here's the low-down. I hate to be so insecure but I was looking for some intelligent-advice. Just for my own peace of mind, i guess. </p>
<p>My cumulative GPA is a 3.7
English, French, Math, Science, Social Studies (all honors, all four years)
AP French, AP Lit, AP Lang and Comp, AP Modern European History, AP American History (3's on L+c, and APAH)
SATs are as follows:
SAT I's : Math 640, Verbal 650 (1290)
SATII's: Bio 600 (freshman year), Writing 630, Math 620.</p>
<p>I'm trilingual (English, French)(Japanese was independant study with tutor 5+ years.)
Classically trained in piano 8 years
150 hours community service
3 years work experience (20+ hours a week)
On School newspaper, GSA for all 4 years
Member of French Honor Society
3 semesters non-credit courses at SUNY FIT
I think that covers it...</p>
<p>I'm applying to these schools</p>
<p>NYU (super reach)
University of Toronto
<p>I'll also include my essay... on something that "influenced you"</p>
<p>We entered the automatic doors apprehensively, overwhelmed by the array of signs, criticism anthologies, row after row of books. It was a Friday afternoon; it was a strangely humid and cold day in October. Id never been into a University Library, so stacks and reference sections were melding together in my eyes. I figured I would go to the reference desk to ask for help.
I flipped through some collected information, watching and listening to the murmur of my companions and the buzz of gears beneath us. Marking pages, I made my way towards the copy room and struggled to work the machines. Several trips upstairs and return flights to the copy machine left me tired, drained, and struggling to find importance in my studies.
While losing myself in my work, Id entirely missed the sky changing from a mellow gray to one with streaks of black. The humidity was gone, replaced by a heavy downfall of rain. I stepped outside, the interior of the building muffling with intensity. Outside the rain was falling at a steady pace, building up puddles and turning clumps of dying grass into streams of dirt. I made my way back inside. My friends were finishing up.
We collected what we needed, and although doubting ourselves, we began to walk back to our cars. The rain initially soaked through my jacket, dark corduroy. It boosted its movement to the bottoms of my jeans and into my shoes. But somehow we looked at each, taking sojourn under a roof, and laughed. I wanted to run, but I wasnt going to rush them and ruin hours of studying.
As we moved and the sky became progressively darker, the rain formed this song. It wasnt ingenious or classically recognized, but it was steady. Each drop hit the ground, tempered with the sound of footsteps and the splash as heels hit puddles. Water would drip down the sides of poles, the sides of plants, and would hit a quieter note beyond the steady bass clef downpour. Incidentally we took a wrong route and what was a quiet opening sonata moved into a powerful concerto of wind and water. It blew against our faces, on our hoods and over our books, but the laughter we shared at that moment negated the soaking of our pants and the messiness of our hair.
Inside the car, I wished I could reverse time and spend just a few more moments tripping, sliding, ruining my jacket. All the hard work would be worth ruining for a few more moments out there. As we sped through the rain, I was forgetting the sound to the tune of a pop song. I knew when I got home I would overlook it completely.
But I guess theres a lot of music in life: The hum of gears, the copy machine, even an autumn rain. While some are easy to notice, I think the best music is worth searching for. </p>
<p>SO NOW ENOUGH WITH BEING TRITE. Any chances at them? Thanks :D</p>