FUCKING. MR.C

In life we have two goals.

One grow up as fast as we can in order to accomplish the second one.

As the years go by and we jump from phase to phase our minds grow older and want different things.

When we were little we wanted to be old to play with other toys. The moment toys left our mind we thought about growing up, wearing what we wanted and doing what we liked.

So of course when I was 16 the only thing that mattered to me was partying with my friends and getting drunk.

There was one thing that no one knew. A hidden secrete I carried with me; the possibility of attending Yale University just like Rory Gilmore did in Gilmore Girls. I didn't want to be a writer, what I wanted was to be a Psychologist. I wanted to understand the way the human mind works. I think in some way or another everyone that is studying Psychology wishes that at some point.

Of course my grades weren't what I wish they would and life passes and that secrete was buried deeper and deeper.

Until senior came and I couldn't wait to graduate and go off to college.

I wanted to go to FAU and major in psychology and at some point go Pre Med and be a Psychiatrist. In that vision I also saw myself in a sorority.

Now I did accomplish one thing; I am in a sorority. Everything else, well lets just say everything else went down the drain.

I went back home and a year later I was in Le Cordon Bleu, Boston, and I couldn't be happier.

As time went by I realized something, that hidden secrete was still there and it wanted to come out. I still want to attend Yale, and ironically be a writer. I want to write about everything and anything; I want to be a food critic.

Plain and simple I want to write, its become something that helps me breath. I feel as if I can't breath and the minute my hands touch the key board air comes into my lungs and I can take a deep breath and write.

Untill Thursday June 16, 2011.

I was told that I am the worst writer in the world. That I was the worst candidate for that field. That I had no determination. That I had no skill and that it would be a waste of money. I felt as if someone took their hand and punched me as hard as they could. I just sat there hearing him tell me all of these things. Telling me how much I suck and basically telling me that I will not accomplish anything in life.

Well Mr. Fuck You.

I will prove you wrong and I hope you get fucking fired. Le Cordon Bleu just should not pay teachers to yell at their students and basically say they are incapable of doing anything with their lives. I am paying 42,000 for this. I am paying 42,000 to be yelled at and be told that I am stupid.

I hope your wrong. Actually no you are wrong. I will accomplish what I want. I will become a successful food critic and I will be able to write about everything including food.