<p>Here's my personal statement (rough draft). I wanted to do something a little unusual. Hopefully it's good...</p>
<pre><code>My scrunched brow was hard at play and my lower lip was folded over to such an extent that drool began to seep out of the corners of my lips and rest in the dimples in my chin. My curly hair was chaotic, as the long brown locks choked my breath and blurred my vision. Nevertheless, my drive was clear and my eyes peered out through the strands with prompt anguish and yearning. They were productively glazed with forced tears, which made them shine with helplessness. My techniques were crude, but even at the young age of four, I had a flair for manipulation.
I walked along side the shopping cart with my own sense of direction. My mothers shopping list was certainly not mine, and I was determined to fulfill my own agenda. The first few aisles of Safeway were dull, lined with fruits and vegetables. This was warm up. I stayed by the cart and kept quiet, quite out of character for myself. I knew to be skillful in the beginning, and not to push my civility to implausible extremes. I would behave, but certainly not over behave. Mother knew best, and I had to be cautious with my tactics.
The game had truly begun with the cereal aisle. It was a solid starter. I pitched out a Mommy can I get Cheerios? in my sweetest, most endearing tone, yet still, in a slightly depressed manner, one that she would sympathize with. When she agreed, I slowly reached for the large yellow box, and placed it, in the most grateful fashion, into the cart. I knew not to ask for Coco Puffs or Trix. I had to build. Baby steps were necessary, especially since I was wearing my LA Gear sneakers with the hot pink lights that flashed in the heel. I had convinced (not begged) her to buy them a day earlier.
The mid-innings were filled with wishes for silly puddy, ice cream, waffles, and anything else I had a remote desire for. Everything would strike out with mom. My plan was right on track. She was George Foreman and I was Muhammad Ali. I would wear her out with pleas, and swing away when she was ready to lob out of pure exhaustion. I was fighting like a butterfly, but I would soon sting like a bee.
I was at the end of the ninth aisle and there it was, that beautiful yellow bag of Nestle goodness. My mother was a checkout line unloading her cart. I charged her, shaking the bag over my head vibrantly, screaming I NEED CHOCOLATE!!!
When I truly want something, its not a desire, its a necessity. I have get it and its not a matter of being bratty or spoiled. Im simply determined and ambitious. Im not one to settle or quit. Its not an option. I had my chocolate and ate it to. Hopefully Ill receive my acceptance letter, and attend __________________ too.