Its official, cherubs. I start classes June 6th. I am going in as a "liberal arts major." Yikes.

Ah, so frame by frame: I walk in to Pam who is easily the same age as my grandma Linda, probably about 60 years old. She didn't remind me of anyone really. We sit down and she gets my basic information and hands me some financial forms before we get down to the nitty gritty. According to my assessments, I'm an english prodigy or something, and I've scored very well on the math portion that I needed to. I tell her I guessed through most of the math and talk her out of sticking me directly into intermediate algebra. ("Judging by the look on your face, I'm going to guess that you'll be taking the begining algebra instead...yep, pure terror.")

Pam offers me a second class and sugguests composition one. I look at her blank faced and ask her if there's anything "easier." She punched me in the arm. I swear there's a bruise there now. I just can't see that part of my arm, it's not like I'm a flamingo. She then points out my writing score of 97 and my reading score of 93. I clarify that the comp class will take precidence if I take them together. I have to take two logic classes together or I'll never get any of the math done. This seems to satisfy her, and here we are.

I meet with some financial aid folks April 13th. I hope I remember.