For a Film Enthusiast, Judging a College By Its Smell The first thing that I noticed about Occidental College was the smell. The dining room, like the lobby of the science hall and the forecourt of the school's three original buildings, smelled solid without being stagnant. Old and important things smell that way. This is, and has always been, the way to rope me in: give me something that smells like polish, like mending, like progress. It may seem like a silly, superficial aspect in the college search, but to me it's everything: it reassures me that the history of a place - the compound of legacy and advancement that can't be whittled down to some wry blurb in a recruitment mailer - is being cared for. That's what I want to do with my life: protect what seems unalterable until it's gone. Most of the students in my tour group were pursuing political science, biology, art -- tangible goals, if not tangible subjects in and of themselves. History - my main love and the focus of my future career working in film preservation - has to be respected, but it can't be sentimentalized. What appealed to me about Occidental was that there was no remorse for the loss of the past, none of that self-conscious "Ivy-laden ra-ra" I'd witnessed at schools back east. There was both an immediacy and a grave peace. My name is Candice and I'm 17. I like RKO musicals, old-time radio, big, thick books on silent-film studios of the San Fernando Valley and all those wonderful, moth-bitten old grandma things. Garage sales and one-room museums make me froth at the mouth with giddy, childish excitement. But how do I plan to parlay that into an education, let alone a paying job? Most of our film heritage has turned to ash and at this rate, the roots of Los Angeles are headed the same way. So my ideal college can be summed up in a few words: relatively affordable, with some sacredness of the past and the ability to prepare me for the kind of career for which there is no quantifiable preparation. I want to be in Los Angeles because of family connections and a deep obligation to keep its past safe. In the best-case scenario, I'd end up at a school like Occidental or California State University, Northridge, and work my way through. In a worst-case scenario, I'd attend a local community college and make my way up the ladder in a less direct manner. I'd then move on to graduate school to focus on film and, ultimately, work in an archive and perform handy little miracles with lots of movies that are relevant and beautiful to me, no matter the era or subject. I'm not terribly worried about rejection (and there will, of course, be some along the way) because for me college is just training for a field that is, ironically, ever-changing and impermanent, and not the end all, be all of my education. That education is going to continue for the rest of my life. By reading along with me as I blog through the upcoming admissions season, I'd like to teach you that college may not be so much about doing what you love as it is about finding opportunities that permit your love to thrive. No matter how dull your button polishing or stamp collecting might seem, your interests can blossom given patience, dedication and an aptitude for last-minute cramming. The real trick, though, will be explaining why my love for Frank Capra is more deserving of grant money than an ingenious new water filtration system or an effort to bring the noble sport of Frisbee golf to its long-overdue prominence on the national stage. That will be a challenge. So here's to my pursuit of a solid liberal arts education! You're welcome to come along for the disappointments, backtracking and inappropriate jabs at Gary Cooper's chest hair. You might even shine up your Trivial Pursuit skills in the process. Ms. Childress, a student at Las Vegas Academy of International Studies, Visual and Performing Arts in Nevada, is one of eight high school seniors around the world who are blogging about their college searches for The Choice.