First grade was the year of butterfly shirts, a perpetually messy desk, and pipe dreams of being a Spy Kid. When I watched Spy Kids, as an impressionable six-year-old, I thought I had found my calling. I was wooed by the fast-paced lifestyle; I was enthralled by the karate, the gadgets, and the fact that Carmen's hair was constantly blowing in a mysterious and cinematically pleasing breeze. I spent countless hours playing spy with my friends, making up missions to complete and finding hidden clues in the ivy that grew on the chain-link fence. At home, I would bare my teeth in the mirror and practice punching and kicking towards my reflection. As the years passed and the rosy glow of elementary school dimmed, I realized that I should look elsewhere for a career. College, though, is all about exploring your options. So, while I explore the option of being an English major and making absolutely no money in the future, I feel like I might as well entertain the option of being a super spy once again. After all, I'm highly qualified.
Ingenuity comes in handy when you need to make up an excuse on the spot for why you were reading someone else's files with a flashlight at 2:03 am. I am a highly skilled excuse-maker in my current position as a student, because I regularly come up with elaborate stories to tell myself and others about why I'm looking at Tumblr instead of doing my homework.
My diverse interests will allow me to act like an elite member of society with some and like a not-so-elite member of society with others. I have an intimate knowledge of the High Renaissance in Italy (lookin' at you, Leonardo), as well as a very committed relationship with America's Next Top Model.
As a Master of Disguise, I am capable of blending in with my surroundings. If you enjoyed the picture of a worm above, then you will probably be flabbergasted and impressed to learn that that worm is me. My identity has been revealed.
After writing this all down, I've come to realize that I really am a perfect candidate for clandestine operations. CIA, NASA, FBI, Obama: hit me up. I promise, my lips are sealed!