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high school

August 19, 2001 by krisis

Rabi just posted back-to back entries about her identity as it relates to the internet. I haven’t linked Rabi once within the last week (as is generally my habit), and i don’t want to clutter up her comments as badly as i did for some of her other identity posts, so i thought that i’d comment right here, in my own fashion.

When i first got my account on America Online it was just after Christmas; i was fourteen years old and i didn’t really understand what the internet represented past a slew of AOL chatrooms and WebCrawler, and my screen name was PeterPCM. Everything was fun and rosey, but as i slowly began to learn a little more about how things worked and about the places one’s email address could wind up i wasn’t entirely comfortable with my name being so up front. When i got off of AOL that summer my email address went through a brief transition, and by my fifteenth birthday that September i had signed on with Erols with the login Krisis.

By that time i was already deep into the continual construction of my first Geocities webpage, which started over five years ago – sometime during the summer after my Freshman year of highschool. That webpage and that identity stayed wholly separate from myself for years; because my email address has stayed so consistent over the years i wound up establishing an actual identity to go with it. There have people who i’ve met and lost touch with who never knew me as anything other than a nebulous androgynous entity named Krisis, and i loved it. After the first incarnation of my webpage finally ended i created a new webpage that was more contingent upon my identity due to my songs and voice appearing all over it, but people still wound up asking me if i was a girl or a boy after i sent them there to answer their own question. For all of my pre-college summer i posed as a female character in an online roleplaying game and never once had my identity questioned or revealled. I was content and secure.

However, in college my treasured anonymity began to accumulate chinks in its armour despite my solid facade. All during Freshmen year my web identity became more and more entwined with my presence on Shafted, where Krisis was my posting handle. I couldn’t very well be anonymous and androgynous while talking about my own life and friends, and so i let down my guard and finally owned up to things like my sex, age and location. I still admantly refused to use my first name while ‘in character’, which was evidenced by most Shafted posters not knowing what to call me when they actually met me in real life. And, otherwise, things stayed aproximately the same.

Everything changed three hundred and sixty days ago, when i plugged my ftp information into blogger and began to deluge the internet with an amplified version of my interior monologue. Immediately i ran into conflicts… i didn’t mention my name anywhere in the blog and my ‘about’ page was deliberately vague about my identity, but to have a ‘blog’ i needed to have an identity and a voice of my own. Slowy but surely i crept into my online presence and edged some of the pieces that had been there as placeholders for facets of my own personality that i had been protecting, and at the same time i held on to facets of my internet voice that were routed deeper in my own self than anyone would’ve ever suspected. Despite these changes, i was still resistant, only mentioning my name sparingly in the context of songwriting and in conversations about me until it was nearly 2001; a search of the archives mostly turns up unending praise of Peter Mulvey. Even as my name finally spread through the internet through things like SurvivorBlog2 and Amy‘s mentions of me i persisted in signed comments and emails with ‘Krisis’ rather than ‘peter’.

As of now i’m just confused. Comments at LYD, Wockerjabby, UnNarrator, and Crezappy all alternate my monkier with my actual name depending on what information the cookies on my computer decided to remember. Emails to the notify list get my name, but emails to Tori lists still get Krisis despite the fact that Outlook on my work computer lists “Peter” as my reply name. And, because i send so much email at work, my student address has been the one most ‘internet people’ i talk to are seeing rather than my alias name.

Where have i wound up? Full circle from the start, i suppose, seeing as an email from me typically reads as From: “Peter [pcm22]” (which isn’t a far cry from “PeterPCM”). My “identity” is another matter entirely… more than four years playing the role of someone who wasn’t quite myself has left a lasting impression on my narrative voice on the internet whether i like it or not. Since i stopped writing fiction around when my first webpage saw its prime i literally have a gap in my personally recorded narratives where the only ones i wrote were for the internet – meaning that my internet voice literally usurped my typical one on the whole in my writing. In fact, now it even reaches far into term papers, official letters, and reports at the office.

Admittedly, it still feels weird sometimes to talk about my hair or my weight or to appear on my webcam, but i think at this point i have irrevocably entangled myself with whoever i had become in the same way what that i had become hijacked my own written communications. So, now my split personalities have been reigned back in to one manageable boy, and i’m left wondering what this newly merged boy’s real voice is on this log … the frantically paced, parenthetically snarking, self-derisive narrator of a year ago – or this newfound one complete with at-length reflections, somewhat credible grammar and syntax, and through-composed essays.

I suppose part of the fun of reading me must be watching me try to decide. Or, at least, part of the fun of writing me certainly is.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5182482/

Filed Under: high school, identity, linkylove, Year 01 Tagged With: aim, rabi

August 16, 2001 by krisis

Of course, becoming someone is a two way street. When someone gets famous and says “some school rejected me and it changed my life” to some random interviewer, ten different thoughts shoot out in ten different directions depending on who the reader is. The most basic reaction is probably something akin to “wow, they got rejected by school. I’m shocked!”

What follows is the part that matters… is it more important that the school is that much more prestigious for turning down your favourite actor or singer, or is the school pathetic and shallow for not seeing their potential when it had been so obvious?

The thing with me was that nothing was obvious. I somehow had the idea that i could trump everyone else’s comparable scores with a slew of activities like acting and writing and volunteering, and while schools do claim to care a lot about all of that but they honestly don’t really seem to mind either way. Unless you’re submitting a portfolio, they like to hear about competing, and winning – not showcasing and performing … unless you were winning while doing that.

I was a special challenge because i was undecided about my academic major when i was applying to colleges, which was surely one of the biggest strikes against me. At Drexel, we invite undecided students to apply. We encourage it. We can help them work it out. But, some schools have no use for the indecisive, and would only take them if they’ve proved themself to be a potential nobel prize winner no matter what they major in. So, honestly, i would have had a shot at splitting my rejections in half if i had just arbitrarily picked English or Literature as my major. But, i didn’t. Oops.

The thing with me is, i’m inconsistent. I mean, i have 10 simultaneous projects up in the air at any given time, none of which are ever really getting finished or resolved. In high school, this translated into a hodge-podge of activities and B+’s instead of A’s. In retrospect, i don’t think i did anything before the age of 13 or 14 that had any definitive effect on my academic future. What it comes down to is that i need something to light a fire under me before i can be excited about anything, and back then the only things i had really were comic books and video games and reading books and nothing serious and enjoyable. As it is now I need PuppetMaster or 25/24 or taking the minutes at a big admissions meeting to light a fire under me. to keep me motivated.

However, now i have the weak excuse of passing these fires off as my continuing exploits in DIY journalism. If i didn’t have this to refer to as my way of honing my writing skills and narrative voice, what the hell would i be doing with my free time? I’m very jealous of you science types that can quantify what they’re learning and their goals so clearly. I just need to have an enthusiasm for something, and at the beginning of this Summer i said i’d ditch my guitar if i didn’t start playing this summer – for people in places other than my apartment – and i played a few times. But, it took up no effort on my part, so the guitar is getting tossed in the backseat. I have songs and voice and image but i have no drive or fire, and i don’t have anyone else to light one for me because hardly anyone else has heard these songs because i never play them because i obviously don’t have enough attention to pay to it unless i combine it with things on the internet. 25/24 was a rousing success for me even if i find the singing hideous and unlistenable; even if i somehow still haven’t finished the Best-Of CD because i keep pulling “bad” songs off of it and putting “good” songs on. But, i have failed my guitar and i feel like suddenly our little interlude has ended, and so now it is just another tool … a weapon if i hold it right.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5119833/

Filed Under: admissions, college, essays, high school, over-achievement, performance, self-critique

August 16, 2001 by krisis

My mother had a sort of quiet depression about her in April when the decision letters started coming. To this day I feel bad for her because she didn’t know what to expect, and i think she had been convinced that i stood a chance at all of these schools because my all important gpa/sat was above their tiny averages. Despite my possession of these all-important numbers, one by one those important four rejection letters trickled in, and every one was another blow struck against that pedestal she put me higher and higher on every time some trivial score came back to us in the mail and it was a whole shade higher than she had expected on the tiny blue ETS graph. She threw out a wait list letter from one of the schools without ever even telling me because she knew that i would find a way, and that it would just hurt my pride to be left hanging by a school i might not even make it into even if we could forget the expense for a moment.

Finally we came down to two serious offers from colleges we’d been neglecting all along, and somehow she fought as hard as i’ve ever seen her fight, and after the dust had cleared i at least wound up with some pride(money) and a seat. She knew by then that the whole process was some sort of hilarious joke aimed at me and at every teacher and family member that had ever projected glorious dreams of schools vying for me and scholarships raining down from the sky. She had put herself through school and kept me smart and safe and got me into the best public high school in the state and saw my plays and bought me a guitar and paid for my ap classes and drove me to PSATs. And, all for what, in the end?

All for Drexel, of course. But, we never really said that, and we never really do. Drexel is an amazing school that’s affording me the chance to mold my own future as i choose my co-op jobs and literally redraw the curriculum as i go. But, we never intended for me to go to Drexel. No one ever did. It’s all been blind faith and dumb luck all along.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5119735/

Filed Under: college, high school, self-critique Tagged With: mom

August 16, 2001 by krisis

Today the former director of admissions at New York University was here at Drexel to talk to our admissions staff about our potential for growth in the coming year, and somehow i got myself into the meeting with him because i said i thought it would be “educational” (for all of the obvious reason, and since NYU was one of my top choice schools). So, i volunteered to take minutes and wound up choking down metaphorical bile through the entire chat.

You have to understand that when i say that NYU was one of my top choice schools that i really had no top choice. I was totally unprepared for college. I had no idea what i wanted to be save for that i didn’t really want to take any more calculus, and i thought that i was being savvy and intelligent when i said i had my school search narrowed down to cities that reminded me of Philadelphia. I knew nothing, and had no battle plan, and didn’t know how i was going to pay for college, and i could be accused of being silly and naive but i had honestly been convinced by Masterman that i just had to pick a school and apply and my SAT score and our reputation would step up and do the trick.

Of course, having worked in Admissions for a half a year now, i see how this was both true and false. If i had been told to target smaller sized colleges that were on the upper half of the second tier of acceptance rates, i would’ve done amazingly well. Those schools gobble up SAT scores like mine and are left wanting more. They love AP-inflated GPAs. They love over-involvement in extra-curricular activities. However, no one told me that, and so it was just my mother and i all alone against the admissions process.

My first four choices were Brown, NYU, Penn, BU. No one saw fit to tell me that even our top ten students wouldn’t necessarily be able to make a clean sweep on acceptance letters from those institutions, and one way or another none of those stories ended happily. APs don’t mean too much when over 70% of your entering class has them. Good SAT’s pale in comparison to a perfect 800. A single parent working as a nurse with no savings doesn’t buy you too far into a class of intelligencia and society that you never even met before let alone associated with.

And, so, i didn’t go Ivy, or even “little ivy.” Somehow, almost by coincidence, i came to Drexel. And i love it and the people are perfect and i still regret the fact that i’m here because i didn’t do all of my homework like i should have (on so many different levels).

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5119628/

Filed Under: admissions, college, high school, self-critique

August 15, 2001 by krisis

After work and dinner and rehearsal we all went out into a pseudo-suburb of Philly to swim in Howard’s pool. For a while we ran around its circumference in endless counter-clockwise circles to create a current, and then it carried us along on our own. The entire situation was weird because it was all in cliques and i wasn’t in any of them … the girls lead by my bitchy co-star, and the two couples, and the two endlessly warring factions, and any way you sliced it i was certain to be the odd one out of any battle or conversation. But, it was fun nonetheless… there’s something to be said for swimming in the dark with some of your most entertaining friends and the way my laugh carries for what seems like miles and miles because everything there is so flat. Afterwards i pulled on my cutoffs, which are technically my first ever pair of jeans, and marveled at the fact that i still fit in them, and at all of the legends this flesh has amassed in the intervening 6 years. And at that i still have nearly the same waist as i did before highschool. And that i do and see any of this day to day.

But, now my entire block is silently shut off save for the refrigerator staring at me from my neighbors window across the street, and swimming always leaves me feeling warm and breathless. No artificial air tonight … i’ll sleep just with what’s out there to begin with.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5098575/

Filed Under: high school, theatre, vanity Tagged With: SGapt

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