My class schedule has finally settled into perfection. I had been made to suffer a three and a half hour break between my in-seat classes, until a seat finally opened for one of my USP courses. So my Tuesdays and Thursdays are beautifully filled with a morning class, a comfortable lunch and study break, and then two more classes. And I still manage to get home before four o’clock (on good traffic days). Colour me tickled.

It’s rather interesting, though, attending a ladies’ college. And by interesting, I mean, you really get to see how much more open and relaxed women can be when there aren’t male competitors flitting about. And hell, even I feel a little more liberated in this setting. Not only is the social environment different, but the educational environment is different. Take for instance, my Psychology of Gender class. Of course, we’ve touched the “this is what feminism is” subject, but that was all. There was no “AND HERE IS WHY IT’S RIGHT!!1!” and “PATRIARCHY, RAAAARRRRR!!” Christ, who knew that you had to hang out in a sea of estrogen to escape the feminist agenda that stinks up most major universities?

Well Christ on a bike, it’s been since December, hasn’t it? Here’s the scoop:

I dropped out of the University of Kentucky, because I had had it up to my eyeballs with their bullshit. I was rather tired of feeling like my money was more important to them than my education (how many times had I been told by my professors that “the grades don’t matter?”), and it made me vomit a little whenever I realized that the education gimmick was really just an excuse to have SPORTS!!1 After being dicked around by multiple agencies for which I needed to volunteer in order to fulfill my the requirements of Social Work classes, and being screwed over the TA in my German Cinema class, I came home one day in tears, crawled in bed and cried for an hour or two, while repeating “I’m not going back. This place just isn’t worth it.” This was sometime back in March, if I do recall correctly.

Soon after, I scheduled an appointment to tour my mom’s alma mater… a nice, tiny, private college in the middle of bumfucked-Egypt. I invite her ride along, as I figured it’d be nice for her to have the chance to “go back home”, as it were. And dudes? It was fantastic. So I immediately applied, sent in my transcripts and scores, and waited to hear back with what kind of scholarship package I’d be getting. I mean, this place isn’t cheap… we’re talking, twice the cost of UK. Even though I knew I qualified for a legacy scholarship, having three generations in my family walk in and out of their doors, I didn’t know if they had exhausted their scholarship awards for the year. So I was sweating bullets until my letter arrived. And I didn’t get the Legacy scholarship (boo!)… I got a better one (YAY!).

The usual routine occurs, where you register for classes, some get canceled, things get fucked up, things get fixed, blah blah etc. Which brings us to today, my last day of freedom before class starts tomorrow.

Other updates? Well, let’s see. I got a little job, which earns me even smaller paychecks. Saw VNV in NKY back in March. Started reading the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind. Flew cross-country to visit some friends a few weeks ago. Some hellacious family drama occurred at roughly the same time as that travel adventure, and is still unfolding on a continuing basis. And… ehm. I think that’s about it, really. Exciting, right? Obviously, we haven’t missed much in my non-updating mood. But maybe I’ll update more now that I’m not so filled with hate and rage about the school situation.

…is not my life. If anyone who stumbles across this blog (or, gasp, follows it closely) is not aware, I am currently pursuing a degree at the University of Kentucky. Though there were a handful of institutions I would have rather attended, I chose this school for no other reason than its geographical accessibility — it was the closest college to my original place of residence. After my first semester, I knew I had made a terrible choice. But I pressed on, keeping my eyes leveled on my goal: a degree. Liking the program in which I’m enrolled, or the people who attend this university, is not as important as graduating.

This semester, however, has been a horrific experience. I have seen so many unsettling things, and I honestly loathe the fact that I have three more school-terms to survive (four, if you count the summer session… and I don’t, just to keep my blood-pressure within normal range).

TL;DR version: If you’re thinking about going to the University of Kentucky, don’t. Do yourself a favor and mark it off your list immediately. If you’re at all interested in reading the reasoning, though… click through.
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You bet your sweet ass this is going on the fridge.

Morning coffee and your daily routine, be it class or work, do not really mix. You chug a mug, and rush out the door to meet the day, and then WHAM. The coffee starts working your innards, and you’re trapped in Public Bathroomland. You either A) make use of the onsite facilities, knowing that everyone in proximity will hate you forever, or B) wiggle around in intestinal agony, spending your entire day dreaming of the moment when you finally reach the Holy Land of Poo.

It’s a right horrible ordeal to go through.

But I think it should be noted, right here, right now, that the almost zenlike feeling of finally making it to your personal potty party is really, very worth the wait.

I feel like I could solve some problems now. I feel like I could save some people now. I feel… like I could change the world. I really, honestly, truly could. One poo at a time.

Thank you and God Bless.

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