Following In The Distinguished Footsteps of Danny Zuko

The waiting game is over.  No more uncertainty.  No more self-mortification about not yet hearing from my #1 choice.  No more weighing the relative importance of proximity to family vs. strength of program.  All of that is finished.

That's right, folks.  Today I received my acceptance to Thunderbird School of Global Management.  I'm a T-Bird.  Plan B is now in full motion.

And in a way, I'm a little bit shocked.  I'm a seasoned veteran of the grad school admissions wars, going back to the Law School Massacres of aught-five and aught-six.  So I'm more familiar with post-rejection stress disorder than with post-acceptance euphoria syndrome.  I'm not sure how I should be reacting right now.  Should I be swinging from the chandelier?  Should I be dancing across the hoods of cars?  Should I be engaging in public intoxication/urination/osculation? 

What I want to do is dig a pit and build a bonfire on the west lawn of the Capital and roast a goat. I want to do a naked pagan dance around the fire for three days while a band of midgets accompanies me on harmonicas and electric guitars with a wash-tub percussion section.  And at the end of three days, my dance will tear a hole in the sky and it will weep down great sheets of ethereal joy on my display of gratitude.  When the rain has ceased and the fire is extinguished, I will lay in the mud, watching the steam rising off my body, slowly snaking to the sky, homeward bound.

And I will contemplate how I'm going to pay for this.  You think they accept roasted goat as payment?