The Blog Won
Well, it looks like I finished law school a little earlier than planned.
Interesting, because some of the violations listed, wow, I am totally busted. Some of them, though, are so baseless as to be nothing but gleeful crucifixion on the part of one Dean Scarlett Guy, recipient of assh*le student complaints about, you guessed it, Midnight Culmination and the salacious content herein.
The gentleman at the meeting said, "If you choose not to answer these allegations, I will have to assume you are guilty without defense." I knew right then I was done, because first, my blog is not an issue of guilt or innocence. My blog is a creative outlet, and, apparently, an astonishingly popular one, based on traffic and, you know, the way those triflin' tight asses at my ex-school wanna call the Dean on me.
Another dean and the finance guy were decent enough to realize that I would have been out a week earlier if the original crusader hadn't cancelled our meeting for a dentist appointment, and so, we are calling the tuition a wash. They will return it one hundred per cent to the appropriate parties. That's nice, I guess.
In the end, I gotta hand it to Dean Guy, a woman who certainly performs her job function to the letter, but who was also undoubtedly the girl who spent the night of Freshman Fling shoving her face full of HoHo's and promising herself that one day she'd make all the pretty girls cry. She showed an extraordinary amount of satisfaction at the idea of wringing me through a bunch of unpleasant procedure. I don't think I deserved a soft hand by any means, but, God, she really seemed to revel in skewering me. What kind of person gets their kicks that way? Whoo-ee . . .
Basically, she gave me a set of options that boiled down to a singular choice: Stetson or Midnight Culmination.
I guess we see which one I picked.
Interesting, because some of the violations listed, wow, I am totally busted. Some of them, though, are so baseless as to be nothing but gleeful crucifixion on the part of one Dean Scarlett Guy, recipient of assh*le student complaints about, you guessed it, Midnight Culmination and the salacious content herein.
The gentleman at the meeting said, "If you choose not to answer these allegations, I will have to assume you are guilty without defense." I knew right then I was done, because first, my blog is not an issue of guilt or innocence. My blog is a creative outlet, and, apparently, an astonishingly popular one, based on traffic and, you know, the way those triflin' tight asses at my ex-school wanna call the Dean on me.
Another dean and the finance guy were decent enough to realize that I would have been out a week earlier if the original crusader hadn't cancelled our meeting for a dentist appointment, and so, we are calling the tuition a wash. They will return it one hundred per cent to the appropriate parties. That's nice, I guess.
In the end, I gotta hand it to Dean Guy, a woman who certainly performs her job function to the letter, but who was also undoubtedly the girl who spent the night of Freshman Fling shoving her face full of HoHo's and promising herself that one day she'd make all the pretty girls cry. She showed an extraordinary amount of satisfaction at the idea of wringing me through a bunch of unpleasant procedure. I don't think I deserved a soft hand by any means, but, God, she really seemed to revel in skewering me. What kind of person gets their kicks that way? Whoo-ee . . .
Basically, she gave me a set of options that boiled down to a singular choice: Stetson or Midnight Culmination.
I guess we see which one I picked.
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