Done!

Done done done done done!

So while I wouldn't necessarily say I made them slut finals my bitch, I can at least say that I was not made a bitch of.

Which is remarkable, taking into account the breathtaking amount of not-studying I did on Friday night. I mean, I tried. I started. I wrote some definitions of boldface words down in a notebook. And then I read a GQ from three months ago and watched TiVo'd goodness all night. (Confidential to ER: Shut up, ER. Why you make me cry so? I. Don't. Care. About. You. So stop making me cry over one more freaking dead baby. And maybe stop killing so many damn babies.)

I even turned my phone off Friday night so I wouldn't be interrupted. Unfortunately, all this meant was that I missed Coleen's call when she was stranded with a flat tire (and pre-happy hour!) and needed distraction while she waited for a tow truck. Luckily, this meant that I was the recipient of the best voice mail ever, as it was in chapter form. Chapter form! With a narrative arc and everything! I love it and am never deleting it, ever.

Anyway. Today started way early. (Oh shit...it's tomorrow. As in Sunday. So this is Saturday I'm talking 'bout Willis.) Did you know there's a 7 a.m. on the weekends too? I was not aware. Even during the week, 7 a.m. is kind of a snooze alarm grey area. But today started at 7 a.m. with 17 gallons of coffee and much mad rushing. Pencils! Pencil sharpener! Hair clip! Scrap paper! Lip gloss! More pencils!

To look the college student part I even dug out an old backpack. And I packed the four-leaf clover I found on Thursday. And I wore my lucky Care Bear underwear. And everything I own from Tiffany's because that shit has gotta be good luck because it's expensive.

By the time I arrived at the exam site I was fully caffeinated and covered in hives. But I was confident. I walked up to the nearest folding table and took the folder they offered me. The folder that was for the Medical Transcriptionist Conference being held that day in the building that was not the exam building. Well.

The exam building was bedlam. All the layoffs in this area have obviously been a boon for universities with distance and adult learning, as the students outnumbered the proctors by about eleventy billion to one. There were so many lines and people getting knocked out by rogue bookbags that it resembled a Civil War reenactment, only with less beards. After waiting in one line for about 15 minutes I was told that I first needed to wait in another line and get some kind of pink confirmation of exam card. Which by the time I got to the front of that line they were pretty much giving them out willy-nilly to anyone who looked studentish. (I decided to cut right to the willy-nilly for my second exam and just swiped an extra card to bring back later. Yeah, I'm a total rebel.)

My first exam was open book. It was boring and hard and blaaaaah. I was all prepared to have my civil rights trampled on as a student so I left my coffee in the car and raised my hand before going to the bathroom. They did not give a rat's ass, and some people brought an entire goddamn breakfast buffet to the test. You could also totally go to the bathroom and then send someone smarter back in to take your place. Which is what I should have done because this test was all legal talkyspeak and case law stuff and who does the professor think I am? Luckily I found that if all else fails, you can always mention the First Amendment a lot. A. Lot.

The next exam was closed book and I was done by 4 p.m. My hand hurt from all the essays and the retarded way I hold a pen. I somehow managed to puncture my palm with one of my fingernails and bruise the underside of my middle finger.

But anyway. I am done. I think I got at least a B on both tests, which means for all intents and purposes, I've graduated. B.S. in Communications (B.S. because I didn't want to take any more Spanish so I took businessy computery classes instead) with a secondary specialization in English. And it only took me eight years, including three years of doing absolutely nothing.

And oh yes, I am typing this entry on my pretty new laptop that was waiting for me when I got home. I love it so. I think I'm going to make out with it for a little bit after I post this. Her full name is Grand Duchess Carmichael. You can call her GDC for short, or maybe 'Puter once she gets to know you. She's so pretty. Except for the touchpad mouse that doesn't let you tap the pad to click or move the cursor so I keep tap tap tapping away like a monkey. But she has a DVD writer and dozens of ports (ooh, dirty) that I can plug my camera right into (dirtier) and an internal WiFi card and a whole bunch of stuff that I'm scared to touch.

We also went out and spent over $200 on dinner because I'm all gradumacated and smart and not gonna end up in no trailer like these people.

Tomorrow: Packing. Target. 'Puter love.