Somebody up there Likes Me

I think I already talked about how the current semester looked a little iffy as far as my graduation was concerned (because I couldn't get into the classes that I needed). Well things have worked out better than I ever imagined. Somebody is ready for me to graduate I think.

This all started last semester when BYU forgot to e-mail me to tell me when I could start registering for [this] semester. In short, by the time I remembered that registration was approaching, all of the classes that I needed were full. I was slightly worried that I wouldn't be able to add these classes, but I assumed that all the teachers would add students on a seniority basis--thus with my 7 years, I shouldn't have too much trouble.

Well I was wrong. When I went to my classes Monday and Tuesday, none of my teachers cared about how long I had been here (because everybody trying to add these classes was doing so for graduation). Basically, it looked as if I wasn't going to get ANY of the classes that I needed because I ended up very far down on the waiting lists. I was very sad. But I persisted by sending one of my teachers an e-mail that explained why I needed her class (basically I said I was awesome). She added me right away. Another class I was able to add on Thursday because it seems several people dropped (I'm assuming they dropped because A: The class will be hard. And B: The teacher seems boring), so I got in (I am afraid of neither pain or death).

But the third class was the kicker. Brandon Sanderson, author of Mistborn and the new Robert Jordan books, teaches one creative writing class per year at BYU, a creative writing class that caters to Fantasy and Science Fiction authors. Since his commercial success, the popularity of this class has exploded. When I showed up to add Thursday night I was expecting five to ten people who would want to add. There were almost 100. And he chose by drawing five names out of a hat. Mine was the last one drawn.

In short, at the beginning of this week I was as distraught as I have ever been, worried about my future, etc. . . . But by Thursday night everything was in the bag, I'm ok, and I'm going to graduate this semester.

Either I have been very, very lucky, or somebody up there likes me.