A2C Serious Post

(Found on the subreddit A2C)

Don't get me wrong, I'm an incredibly anxious person.



Yet, I would kill to be in your position right now. I've been joking about Ivy Day for weeks now, posting dumb 🅱️arvard memes on my finsta and even going as far as to make meme funeral invitations scheduled for March 29, 2019.



But I'm not nervous. Not even a little bit.



Because I didn't apply to a single institution from within the Accursed League™ with any actual hope of getting in. I've never been 'competitive', not in the way too many people on this sub are. My stats are average at best, flakey at worst. All I have is too much passion for a non-STEM field and a competitive streak that's only just starting to develop into the monster I want it to be.



But you, you have what it takes. And you know this. You're nervous because there's hope. You say and joke that you're fine with getting handed that Fat L tomorrow because you're all too woke about the fact that beyond a certain threshold, college acceptances are a complete crapshoot. You're nervous because you'll never get a straight answer about the result of your decision, and will potentially spend many more years into the future wondering if the admissions officers themselves even know why. You're full of energy, certain of the fact that the within the next seven hours, you'll get the decision that's bound to change the rest of your life. Full of energy because you know there's the potential it can all go so, so right from here on out. That everything awful that ever happened could potentially disappear.



And here's the kicker; I'm not only talking about the people who will get accepted. Because guess what? Being rejected doesn't change the fact you were close. Closer than what most people could only dream of being. You were competitive when you applied, what, two? three? maybe even four months ago? What about now? You're still competitive, probably even more so.



Tonight, (Or tomorrow morning for my International Friends), you'll get the pleasure of experiencing either the heart-stopping joy of having all your hard work pay off, or the gut-wrenching righteous fury at having been rejected from a school that you didn't know you felt qualified for until the exact moment they told you you weren't.



Cherish that. Recognize your achievements, acknowledge the pride burrowing its way through your chest disguised as hope. Understand that how successful you will be in life depends not on the answer that these schools give you, but the way you choose to interpret it. Understand that being competitive, being nervous, means you're already more than halfway there.

WOT Blitz Funny Forum Post

Okay, I have to share this one.

I don't really play for stats...  I play for having fun.  That said, I'm a pretty big fan of doing well, so I do try and do my best.

This past weekend was horrible.  If I was top tier my internet crashed, and if I was bottom tier... well, most of you know what an uphill struggle that is.

My newborn son was up Saturday morning at 4 am, and decided he didn't want to go back to sleep, so while the wife was snoozing I jumped on Blitz and tried my hand at a few games.  Let me tell you, match maker was evil that morning, and the caliber of players was lacking at best.

After getting utterly stomped in a few of my tanks I figured I'd roll out in my brand new TOG, which I am so far struggling with.  I figured as long as most of my teams were window lickers anyway, I wouldn't really be letting anyone down while I figured out the TOG learning curve.

Castilla.  Middle Tier.  Start out facing away from everyone else, just me and a T1 heavy.

Okay, I can do this.  

The rest of my faster more agile team mates go blasting off.  The T1 took off slowly, but still about three times faster than me.  We were on the side of the map where there is a small brick... um... factory place... right before the hill with the windmill.

That's as far as my T1 team mate got.  He decided the best part of the game would be driving around in that little area and playing hulk smash with all the buildings and walls.  As I crawled by watching his demolition, I quickly typed a message, "T1, what are you doing?"

"Affirmative!" was all I got back.

Oh well. Window Licker.  Push on.

At break neck speed my TOG climbed the lower hill by the windmill, and seeing as I was now alone I expected to be jumped and gang-banged by the entire enemy force at any moment.  Except just as I crested the hill the Tank Gods smiled upon me, and smited (smote?) my team mates on the far side of the map as the mediums were scampering up the central hill.

All seven reds were pushing through the small set of buildings on the far side of the map from me, attacking my team as they split, the meds going up the hill, the TDs as they sat on that little hill in the corner across the bridge from the reds.

I had no shot.  I had no chance of getting there before my team was torn to shreds.  I thought for sure they would quickly eradicate my team, and then come hunting for me and my big green T1 companion as he continued to swat buildings and walls.

Ugh.  I dropped down the hill and made a beeline toward the fight.  At the TOG's massive top speed I would be there shortly before Christmas...  Christmas three years from now.  My team seemed to be holding out as best they could, but I started to see ally's dropping, and could see the survivors' health eroding away.  I had now crossed the river (the shallows that leads up to the central town area.

A red went down.  My team was putting up one hell of a resistance for being five on seven!  Then another Ally.  Oh no!  I'd never make it in time.  Up the hill I go, into the central part of the map... near the cap circle as I continue to watch the fight unfold.

An idea came to me as my lumbering building of a tank slowed to a mind numbing 4 kilometers per hour, and thanks to the TOG's bulk, it gave me plenty of time to flesh out the details.  I took a hard right, (and fifteen minutes later the TOG had completed the turn) and jambed my thumb halfway through my phone screen hoping desperately that might put a sense of urgency into my meaty metal ride.

My TOG swiftly (ha ha) sailed into the cap circle, where I began maneuvering to take advantage of the cover afforded by the buildings because I thought for sure the entire red force would be hammering down on me soon.  I was hoping desperately that with my tank pulling capture points, some of the reds would have to break from destroying the rest of my team and come and take pot shots at me.  The seconds seemed to tick by as slowly as my TOG's top speed, but I'd imagine that's just because everything is slower in a TOG, when suddenly my plan paid dividends.

A TD that was pushing hard on the sole remaining competent allied tank dove off the edge of the bridge and down into the river to come and attack me.  I suddenly realized that even though my TOG was using a building for cover in his direction the front and back of the GOLIATH TWINKIE (name of mt TOG, patent pending) were sticking out past the edges.  I nudged forward, still trying to hide my bulk from the TD's gun when suddenly...

TANKS_CANT_SWIM(T25 AT) - Destroyed.

He had drowned in the mighty river in a desperate attempt to reach me, only to realize to late that he could not crawl out of the steep banks and death was the reward for his haste.

I couldn't help but smile when suddenly my eyebrows creased and I could scarcely believe what I saw.

An IS dove off the same spot, pushing hard across the river also trying to reach me.  He managed to get a few meters closer to me when suddenly

LEMMING_IS_DRIVER (IS) - Destroyed.

I didn't quite grasp what was happening as I stared at my phone screen in shock.  Wait...  What's that...

A T20 went screaming off the exact same spot and into the rushing water that flows around Castilla.  I could see the brutal determination painted on the T20 as he forded the depths!  His mighty engine coughed and sputtered as sheer will alone seemed to propel the tank forward.  He would not fail to make it across the river where his comrades had fallen!  His barrel swung my way, and his track treads clawed at the loose soil for purchase as he, the champion of the reds, saw my tender chubby backside about to come into view when suddenly.

BOOM!

SAVIOR_OF_THE_REDS(T20) Destroyed - DID_YOU_FORGET_ABOUT_ME?(Pnzr IV)

My sole surviving competent Ally, with 8 hp left, poked around the corner and with all the Derpy might he could muster, blasted that T20 with the enthusiasm of a virgin on prom night.

That left me, The Incredible Hulk T1, and a Panzer IV with eight HP left, and under thirty seconds on the clock.

A full health red Easy 8, so shocked at what he just saw, turned tale and ran back for Red Spawn.  He was obviously worried he would get sucked into the gravitational pull of my TOG, and meet a similar fate as his ill-fortuned teammates.  I knew I would be far too slow to give chase.

With three seconds left on the game clock, we capped.  The Panzer IV cheered!  The T1 was disappointed, as there were still more walls and buildings to be crushed, and I couldn't help but give my phone screen a satisfied smirk.

"That'll do pig.  That'll do."

Game won.  Zero damage taken.  Two tanks destroyed.  No shots fired.  It was a good game.

Revisiting My Former Genius

The Day On Which I Died