Last week, I went to a welcoming reception hosted by Columbia University. It was at an alumni’s house (class of 69) and many of the Houston area admitted students attended.

I was really excited to meet some of my future classmates, knowing that in three months, we would all meet again, but that time, in New York.

First thing, when we drove to the house, it was huge! I mean, it shouldn’t be called a house, more like a mansion nestled in Memorial’s tree-tipping, torch-lit grove. We went inside and the first thing that caught my eye was the banquet table. They had choked up appetizers and cocktail foods (cheese, berries, wraps, dips) to the full over a light blue Columbia tablecloth adorned with loose stepping-stone candles.

Above the table and all around the house were surrealist paintings and sculptures. Dali-esque dreamscapes and Moore-like figures complemented the high ceiling of the piano lounge and the arabesque Baroque railing of the staircase.

I quickly took in everything while gravitating towards the clump of students already there. All of us did a quick intro and just started chatting. It wasn’t at all awkward as we talked about our favorite books read in Lit class or which residence hall to stay in (not John Jay, which is apparently right above the hospital, with screaming ambulances every night. I’m considering Carmen, the most populous and social one). Everyone was open and eager to make friends, and it seems like all of us are a little apprehensive and a lot more excited about life in the big city.

Then, I got to talk to an admissions officer who flew in all the way from New York. She approached me, and the first thing she said was, “Isn’t your name Ge?”

Confused by her knowing my real name instead of the nickname Alice scrawled on the sticker of my shirt, I asked how she knew me. And she told me that it was she who read my application! And the fact that it was memorable out of the thousands of apps she sifted through...!

Later, she made a speech and told us that this year, the acceptance rate was the lowest out of Columbia history and out of all the Ivies(8.9%!?). It again made me feel extremely lucky to have such an opportunity. And some of my classmates? Wow! She read from a list of prospective students and their accomplishments. Our class of 2011 has a national roller-skating champ, a world-class chess finalist, a peace-activist, a published author, a Broadway-star, and the list goes on.

As the conversation died down, we talked about what we’re planning to do this last summer of high school; grumbles of work and boredom were uttered by the students.