In the spirit of last week’s holiday theme, I would like to take a minute to remind everyone, ‘tis the season.

The "Oh-my-God-am-I-going-to-be-accepted-to-my-dream-college-and-if-I-am-will-I-be-able-to-pay-for-it-I-don’t-have-enough-money-to-buy-a-Big-Mac-at-McDonald’s-never-mind-a-college-education" season, that is.

That’s an industry term in the education world, by the way.
    
Every few days, my fellow Seniorite comrades in High School Land burst forth gallantly and triumphantly into the hallowed halls of Wheeler, golden envelope in hand, bearing news of their college acceptances. To say that it is a satisfying end to a three month – nay, a four year – nay, a lifelong – quest is a bit of an understatement.

The journey begins early in life. Every homework assignment, every quiz, every project, every paper, every test along the way, is a separate mission that leads the young lady or lord to their educational Holy Grail. They complete each mission with powerful fervor, often losing sleep, and forgoing pleasurable pastimes to complete a task.

Sometimes it is unclear to the young quester how each mission relates to the final reward. But in time, and with help, it becomes clear. The quester recognizes that he is fighting in the name of his future college education! That he is working toward a higher end! Toward a career! Toward a life!

But the night is darkest before the dawn. And before he is to be liberated, the young quester must slay the evil college applicat- err…fire-breathing…dragon-y…thing.

He fights long and hard, day in and day out, browsing through college lists, researching majors, estimating financial age packages. Writing essays. Filling out applications. Submitting applications. Submitting application payments.

Getting angry because the application payment won’t go through.

Repeatedly checking the credit card number he just entered to make sure it’s correct.

Realizing that the reason the payment won’t go through has absolutely nothing to do with the credit card number, and everything to do with the fact he forgot to check the little box that says "I understand and agree with the Common Application’s Terms and Conditions."

Shaking his fist at the heavens (or the people who designed the Common App Web site; sometimes I think they’re almost the same) for making the little box so small. And then feeling very stupid when he makes the same mistake with the next application.

Waiting for months on end for those magical acceptance letters to come flying into the mailbox. (Or be carried to your chimney by an owl. Take your pick.) Pulling his hair out in the mean time. And then gluing it back on again when that big fat envelope finally comes through. (Or that’s what he hopes. That’s what we all hope.)

Meeting giants and goblins and wizards and muggles and unicorns along the way. Finding the Sorceror’s Stone. Killing a giant snake in the Chamber of Secrets. Fighting in the TriWizard Tournament. Facing almost certain death on numerous occasions. Tracking down horcruxes. Having to engage in one final and defining battle with a certain Dark Lord (who shall remain nameless).

You know the drill.

I bet you never knew the college admissions process and Harry Potter had so much in common.

Funny thing, neither did Harry.

I’m pretty sure that’s because he never actually had to apply to Hogwarts. He just got accepted.

Bet he was a legacy pick.