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I hate it when applying to colleges and jobs that people offer encouragements like, “What’s the worst that can happen?” and “You have nothing to lose,” making the assumption that the entry fee (or ante, or tryout fee) is zero.

The entry fee is not zero! Okay yes, you have to spend a little bit of money to apply for colleges and some time crafting an essay or resume, but I think the real cost is the one you pay with your emotions. You’re putting your heart on the line, willing to be judge, hoping that you won’t be told “No, you are not good enough.” Just because it’s hard to measure the damage to your self-esteem doesn’t mean that it’s not signifcant or important.

I recently started a long process for an independent study for my MSIT program. I’ll be opting out of the Database Mining (a solid resume building but personally uninteresting) class in order to pursue my own studies. My own studies in this case, will focus on human computer interaction, a mix of design, cognative psychology, and engineering.

Where I put my heart on the line is that I’ve asked Don Norman to be my advisor. He literally wrote the book on human computer interaction. Having Dr. Norman be your advisor for HCI would be like having Michael Phelps as your swim coach.

Unfortunately it turns out he’ll be retiring from Northwestern at the end of this academic year, which I imagine means he’s very busy not taking on the extra work of advising some dude who isn’t even in one of his programs. He also travels to University of California at San Diego often, and something tells me that he’s not spending much of the winter season in Chicagoland.

So I’m very anxious to hear back, which should happen this week. I might be playing the lottery here, and it’s going to suck if things don’t work out, but at least it won’t suck as much as the enevitible guilt of not trying.  Which is what the advice for job seekers and college applicants should be — “Don’t be a bitch.”

2008′s last minute employment rejection kick in junk left my balls aching as the calnder changed to 2009. I had just completed my first year in the service of the place I work, which meant I was eligible for a full ride for grad school.

The full ride was one of the reasons I chose to move back to Chicago and take the job. In fact, since leavingg UIUC, it had always been my goal to return to academia. But the reasons for doing so changed over the years.

Originally, I was motivated toy returning to life on campus. I thought I didn’t take much advantage of the culture and events that UIUC offered, but after getting out into the lonely working world, I realized that I missed the social atmosphere. Real life gym isn’t free, there isn’t a smattering of martial arts programs to choose from, and I can forget about getting hundreds of people together to go for the worlds largest pillowfight record.

What made matters worse for me is that I moved from Champaign to Berkely, where my friends in California were heavily involved in the school. They tried their best to incorporate me, but I was ultimately an outsider.

When Perry and Justin both decided to earn higher degrees, a different desire arose in me. Having gotten used to this new stage in my life, I yearned to move up. I wanted that same prestige. I wanted to have something more to show for myself.

It was this desire to not be left behind that ultimately made me choose accept the job in Chicago. They didn’t offer a signifcant increase in pay, an exciting culture, or a job that I wanted to do, but they did offer an open door to further education. Besides the free ride and no-commitment, the name would help me on my applications, and my position and title was a decent step up from what I was before.

But after moving back to Chicago some of my friends had graduated. Having faced the harsh realities of working life which are unknowable to college students and still living in the burbs, it was easier to create my own social circle. This completely erased any lingering need to be part of campus life, a conclusion which I think ends up being echoed by graduate students all around.

The side effect of friends and an environment I didn’t mind so much was that my desire for prestige changed to uncertainy and apathy; the pressure to get another degree behind name lessened. Originally I had sought an MBA, continuing my undergraduate degree in Business Administration. But many of the MBAs I knew did nothing with their degrees. Only ones from the top colleges in the nations seemed to hold decent positions, and those people were middle management dullards.

It was now the beginning of 2009. And the hit to my pride changed my mind yet again. After languishing in a position for a year where the only thing I learned was protocol and how to manage bureaucracy, it seemed like there was no way out. I wanted to learn and grow, more than anything, and the title and letters weren’t important. I needed to do it on my own.

Consequently I chose IT as my graduate field. Business was good, but I felt I wanted to do something more… tangible. Also, it was more me. It was a return to my nerd roots, and would play off my strengths and passions.

Two programs fit the bill. An MS at DePaul in Network Technology, and one at Northwestern in Information Technology. I was accepted into both and chose Northwestern. Partially because of the name, I’ll shamefully admit, but mostly because it threw in a little business with the engineering of IT. It was the reverse of my undergrad, which was mostly business and a little of IT.

From then on, I decided I would be multidisciplinary expert. Straight engineering bored me, but so did business. It was the combination that seemed to be my lot in life.

Leading up to 2009, I had wandered and wained. But if I had entered grad school any earlier, it probably would have been for the wrong reasons.

The Pirates of Penzance is a musical that holds a special place in my heart.  My grandma took Jon and me to see it, against our wills, when we were in middle school.  It was here that I was amazed to learn that the stage could be fun and actually entertaining.  The number “I am the very model of a modern major general” was so damn catchy it suck in my head for years.

I saw the musical on Saturday night at the Light Opera Works in Evanston after nabbing some discount tickets from one of my professors who is big into theatre.  The production was excellent, and the vocal talent was astonishing.  I also swooned for the orchestra and the stage.

During the play, a pirate dropped some kind of small black thing by accident while a maiden was giving a speech.  Of course, it is a bit mean spirited of me to notice, but the pirate didn’t bend down and pick it up right away.  He waited until the end of the scene when the maidens fled and in the chaos, one of them stomped on his foot affording him the opportunity to pick it up.  So delicious!  I wonder if they practice messing up, or if some actors are more graceful than others.

Coming out of the play I noticed that the average age of the theatregoers was about 900, and I can’t really figure out why.  Either they’re put off by new technologies such as color motion pictures, or you just develop an appreciation for the arts as you age.

In terms of my appreciation, I struggled to understand some of the sung conversations, but was able to pick it up mostly through context and reading the synopsis.  I’m pretty sure that Wai fared much worse, their hammed up British accents and falsettos must have made it impossible for even a seasoned non-native speaker to understand.  Plus, the play is like from 1880.

I’m looking forward to the next one though.  I’m going to make it a point to see more than Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals.