One phone call -- that's all I need now.

I filled out my online application to Cornish College of the Arts a month ago, trying desperately to remember all the activities, clubs and volunteer opportunities I had participated in from my freshman to senior year of high school. I made lists of everything I could remember, and I spent way too much time stressing over two 500 word essays: 1. Who are you as an artist, and how will Cornish allow you to grow? 2. Choose a song that has inspired you and explain how.

Usually I could whip those essays out with no trouble, but I suddenly found myself unable to find the words... And I lost the words in a way that not even a call to good ol' Mr. Wise could fix. I've spent the last 2 years making and completely changing plans -- never losing sight of what the dream is, but the road to getting there keeps winding. Going to Cornish is my last 'logical' idea, and I found myself realizing that in a huge way as I tried to fumble my way through those essays. ''What can I say that will make them like me?" and "I shouldn't say that, I should use a bigger word to sound like I'm more knowledgeable in music,'' were only a few of the thoughts running through my head. It took a lot of sitting and staring, an enormous honey-vanilla chai latte, and some encouraging words from my cousin's girlfriend Erin (thanks, Erin!) to get me to just sit down and write about me and my thoughts -- not what I thought the Admissions Office wanted to hear.

Because I had a late start on my application, I couldn't get my transcripts from the school until after Christmas Break (go, me.) So I waited and waited for January, and sat and read the countless e-mails stating 'your application has been received, but we're missing your transcripts' Sorry, guys -- they're on their way! I promise!...Oy. It was a long few weeks.

Finally school started up again and I was able to get my transcripts sent, but the process wasn't done. I had to record my pre-screening cd... Yay.

Essentially, the pre-screening cd is a way to avoid the American Idol crazies. In an effort to save themselves from days of sitting through auditions of people who have no business being there, Cornish has all music performance majors send in a cd of themselves so they can fish through those and eliminate the hopeless. The left over candidates get an invite to a live audition.

I had done something similar before when I auditioned for the Continental Singers, but this situation was different. I was 13 when I made my casette (ha!) for Continentals, and I didn't really have an idea then of what it was like to be nervous of being turned down. If I didn't make it, my life wouldn't change at all. This time is different. There's a lot riding on this cd.

The three songs I chose to sing are not songs I would have chosen if I'd had more time: 'If I Loved You', 'Nel Cor Piu Non mi Sento' and 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again'. None of them scream, ''Here I am -- this is who I am as a singer!'' No... While they may not hear it, the songs actually say, ''Alrighty, I had zero time to prepare, I know these songs by heart, and my accompanist knows how to play them..." Sweet. We'll see how it plays out.

I practiced each song a few times so I'd know exactly what I wanted to do for the recording. The first two songs went pretty well -- although there is one passage in 'Nel Cor' that gave me trouble and even in the recording process I redid it, oh... Probably five or six different times.

'Wishing' was a whole different story. When I started practicing it, my Mom looks up from the piano and says, "You have to sing the story. You did it with the other two."

Awesome. Here I am, already fighting off terrible nerves knowing that this cd is a big deal, and she tells me to really sing the story of this song -- the story about a girl losing her father. Not a place I want to go to, Mother! Especially when my Dad is in the room. Especially when I'm already fighting nervous tears... I quit fighting at that point, though. The tears came... And came and came and came.

I ran to the church kitchen and made myself some peppermint tea, trying to keep snot from filling my larynx (such a glamorous profession.) I took it up to the nursery and texted Conor, spilling my guts into the phone... He's a good friend for actually putting up with me in my crazy moments when I can't even put up with myself, and an even better friend for actually responding. That boy gave me good words to make me suck it up and go out there and record. Actually, that boy gave me words that, at first, made me cry even more, but he doesn't know that... Well, he does now, but... Okay, beside the point.

The point is, I got through the recording. The cd was mailed out on Monday.

Now I wait for a phone call. A phone call saying I've been invited to a live audition. This will be the most stressful step of all, but I'm not worried about that at this second. I'm just worried about getting there.

C'mon phone... Ring!