Still Waiting

UCLA sent me an email the other day asking me to re-confirm my interest in staying on the wait-list. The tone of the email made it sound like they’d much prefer it if I were to bail out now and make their lives easier, but they don’t know what they’ve gotten themselves into. In fact, I’ll be there until the bitter end, if only to feel like I gave it my best shot.

I’m attending USC’s admit weekend, which should be cool. I’m excited to meet some of my potential classmates. I just got back from a USC happy hour with some admitted students. It’s fun to see who’s going where and why. Plus, I’m always down for an excuse to drink a few beers.

Since my last post I met with a real estate investment bank about a potential internship next summer and came away with some good information and a promising lead. We’ll see what happens over the course of the next year, but if nothing else it could be a great opportunity to follow up on in nine months.

That said, my friend heard a great phrase the other day regarding the real estate market – “dot condo.” As a dot com refuge, I definitely don’t want to go down that road again. Yuck. I saw the rise and fall of San Francisco in the dot com heyday and crash. It went from a beautiful bohemian city with soul to a bastion of yuppie hell to a burnt-out husk that was neither nor. The best T-shirt I ever saw hung in the window of a SF clothing shop back in 2000. It read, “GetTheF!*kOutOfMyCity.com.”

But, RE is quite a bit different, given that it’s “real.” While companies like Enron flat-out disappear, buildings don’t. But, it does merit a pause for consideration. I think the coolest thing about going to Bschool is that I’m going to meet so many people who’ve done unique, interesting things. Who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind about my ultimate career once I start school.

That's about it. I'm going to New York for a quick trip next weekend for a friend's wedding and to hang out in the city. I'm stoked. NYC is the center of the known universe and always a great time. Maybe I'll take some pictures and post them when I return.

PS – I shook up the “Music I’m Listening To” section.

The Other Side of Rejection

I just sent UC Irvine an email turning down their offer of admission. I waited as long as possible before sending it off, but I knew that I had to do it sooner than later in order to let some tortured soul off the wait-list. (UCLA Anderson admits, re-read that last sentence a few times). :>)

When I started getting my Bschool and GMAT plans together last summer I never thought I’d be turning schools down. Of course, I knew it was theoretically possible, but I was so wrapped up the application anxiety that I just wanted to think about receiving one offer and not getting greedy. Well, all of my peers in the same position now know that it’s better to be buying than selling. The MBA application process is truly a psychological journey. You go from total subservience and wanton-desire, to a frenzy of work and panic, to sitting on your throne and choosing who shall receive the pleasure of your presence. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I think you get the point.

From my limited experience, the admissions committee and student ambassadors at UCI are the coolest, nicest folks in the MBA game. Their genuine interest in each applicant is really special, and entirely unique. If you’re thinking of applying, do it. Not to mention the fact that they just pulled down $30MM and renamed their bschool after donor Paul Merage. Imagine having enough dough to give away $30MM!!! That would be sick! Someday, my ambitious friends, someday.

I decided to pass on their offer because of my acceptance at USC and possible acceptance to UCLA. Ultimately, both schools will allow me to attend Bschool without moving, and they offer stronger programs in my desired concentration.

On a darker note, my fantasy basketball team crumbled just in time for the playoffs. I lost Tim Duncan, Brad Miller, Richard Jefferson, Kenyon Martin, and Al Harrington during or well before the playoffs. That’s a friggin’ dream team lost to injuries. Now I’m fighting for 3^rd place and against the indignity of sending out a check to the winners.

I just read that Hank Greenberg, the ex-CEO of AIG (read: Spitzer’s pin-cushion), gifted $2.2 billion in AIG stock to his wife before heading for the regulatory hills with the SEC nipping at his heels. That’s 2,200 million, folks. Glad to see that unconscionable, massive-scale corporate fraud is alive and well. Mr. and Mrs. Greenberg will surely join the likes of Fastow, Skilling, Lay, Ebbers, and Rigas in the innermost circle of hell, where they will toil in the coal mines and save their pennies for 40 years, only to have it stolen by some pasty, pudgy little worm. Remember Mrs. Lay crying on national TV a couple of years ago when the whole Enron thing went down? That was special. She must have had some bad caviar that afternoon.

So, to conclude this rambling mess: baseball is back, and all is right with the world! I can’t wait to take in a few day games this summer.