So speaking of the Dewey Decimal system, I'm transferring.

Any school that boasts American Idol's Justin Guarini as one of its esteemed alumnus is not a school for Megan.

Plus, I failed my writing class after my teacher led me to believe I was doing at least well enough to keep above a 2.3 GPA.

And I hate the desperate, exclusive attitude most of these kids seem to have.

And I hate that I feel like I did in middle school.

And I hate that I learned more about acting in the five weeks of summer session at NCSA than I did in the four months I've spent here.

And I hate that I have to think really hard to come up with good things about this school.

"Um, they have good vodka and attractive homosexual men...?"

Leaving feels really nice. It feels kind of like one of those Jenny Jones makeover "Fuck you guys, I am just too sassy!" moments.

That school raped the funny right outta me.

And I'm sure community college is going to be a blast.

...Le SIKE! (As the French from 1994 would say).

Well, it's a good place to get my liberal arts credits out of the way and get my GPA up in the process, anyway. I guess.

If I thought that I had a good chance of getting into anywhere else right now, believe me, I would try. But a 2.3 is not the way to be.

It's never been that low before. If I actually cared about the work I was doing, I think it would be higher.

So I'm going to be Carroll County-ing it up for the next year or so. Tragic. But necessary.

Then it's either going to be DePaul in Chicago, Syracuse in New York, or North Carolina School of the Arts in Wisconsin.

Other than this whole ordeal, break has been going just peachily.

I might get my learners permit tomorrow, because I'm the laziest legal adult ever.

And Christmas is nice.

And bullshitbullshitbullshit.

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