When I was accepted to the University of Virginia, I was invited to interview for an Echols Scholarship.  This is not something I have talked much about, because, quite frankly, it did not go all that well.

In order to explain how well it did not go, I have to go back. Way back. Back to ninth grade.  I was a junior cheerleader and was doing whatever junior cheerleaders do at senior basketball games.  The next day some guy called me on the phone and said that he had seen me at the game the night before.  Well of course he had, I was a cheerleader. We probably did some sort of routine during one of the time outs.  

I had never heard of this guy. He was a senior. It was easy enough to check him out. My brother was in his class.  Any normal parents would not have let their freshman daughter go out with a senior, but as we have already established, I did not have normal parents.

I could change the name to protect the innocent, but I won’t.  His name is just too good to change.  Kip.  That was his real name, I kid you not.  Kip.  He was cute. Short, but cute.  He was the vice president of the student council and all around BMOC in a very nerdy/cool sort of way.

Kip was my first real love.  We dated most of my freshman year until April of my sophomore year and then he dumped me for some college girl.  He broke my heart.  

Because Kip went to UVA and I had visited him at school, UVA was always one of my college choices. When I got invited to interview for the Echols Scholarship, I called to let him know what was going on. He was excited for me and offered to entertain me the night before the interview. We had a fun time, getting reacquainted and hanging out with his friends.

The next day I had a full schedule with campus tours, meetings and finally an interview with the selection committee. I was so out of my league. To say I was unprepared was an understatement. I was totally unprepared. And I was ambushed.

I walked into the office and there was a small group of men, maybe three or four, five at the most.  Very sober. Very serious. Very frightening to a young 18 year old girl. And there in their midst was Kip, that son of a bitch.  He could have at least given me a heads up.    

What happened next was a blur.  All except for one question.  The question that caused me to lose the scholarship.  Who’s to say if I would have answered the same had Kip not been sitting three feet from me.  It doesn’t matter.  I blew it.  

You see, Kip was not the only BMOC.  I was something of one myself.  They asked me what I had learned from all my various leadership roles and activities and I said, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”  

And that was the end of that. 

I am still holding a grudge.  I hope he’s fat and bald.