troublesome

It's always an odd sensation when something reminds you of a part of the past you haven't though about in a while. Recent examples include seeing a dated photograph of yourself with another distinctive hairstyle (thanks to Lexi), having someone recall you from a freshman year class where you had another distinctive hairstyle (If you don't know the various stages of Alex's hair, perhaps you should make a visit to the refridgerator door of G9 for a few choice examples) and last but not least, having to request a goddamn transcript from Wilkes Community College for 6 credit hours (yes, just 6) that you took as a high school student at Alleghany High school. And when I say credit hours, I mean, taking a high school class, with a high school teacher, in a high school classroom, and at the start of the class, signing a WCC enrollment form. That's it. No lengthy registration, no long commute, nothing at all really to symbolize the college nature of these courses. Nothing, that is, except for them showing up on your Undergraduate Transcript from the slightly more important (in my educational career) institution of UNC-CH. So when I wished to apply to Law School, I sent this transcript to LSAC, furthering the $106 rackett they are running for the Law school data assembly service (required) for admisssion. Lo and Behold, those 6 lonely hours, representative of Mr. Taylor and his Calculus class in the corner room of Alleghany High (the one with the AC unit, quite the luxury) appear and create the apperance that I am attempting to conceal a portion (however small it may be) of my Undergraduate education. Ah, thank you so much for those credit hours. Now, a request must be sent from here at 706 Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. in Chapel Hill, NC, all the way to Wilkes Community College in Wilkesboro (quite creative with names up there) NC. And then, we pray, because if they did not keep records of this alumnus, Alex Phipps's LSDAS application will be significantly derailed. But what treasured memories of higher education...I guess you can just call me a teary-eyed Cougar (evidently, they even have a mascot...who knew?)