I am going to college in the ghetto. Well, actually, I'm going to college a few blocks away from the ghetto. Close enough, if you ask me.
I've fallen in love with Greensboro College. I want to make babies with it. No lie. I do. You think that's wrong? Well, you're right. It's very wrong. But that doesn't make it any less true. I don't know exactly what it is about this school that has me WANTING to complete my graduation project so that I can get in, but I sure as hell do. Yes, it's the first college I've visited, and I am going to visit many more, but I just know in my Heart of Order that Greensboro College is the one for me.
I'll admit, I was skeptical about it at first. I was a bit concerned that it was too "chummy", if you know what I mean. Too personal. It would require me to actually socialize myself, which is the thing I hate most in this world, other than all the other things I hate most in this world. The teachers know you. The students know you. Hell, even the janitors know you. I'm not shitting you. I saw a janitor give one of the kids a high five. It was creepy. But I liked it. Why am I writing in such short sentences? Stop it. Short sentence make Heather feel like devolved chimp. Shiiiiiiiiiit.
As I was saying, it's within ten blocks of the ghetto. Lee Street, breh! (For those of you who don't live in North Carolina, Lee Street is where the majority of violent crimes in Greensboro occur) I'm sure Nathanael Greene would be delighted to know what a name his town has made for itself. Oh well. He still has Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Alabama. Georgia... what a joke...
To put things in perspective, I should tell you that the college has its own escort service. No, not THAT kind of escort service. I mean the kind where you can actually call, and they send someone to walk you from your car to your dorm. Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk...
I'm going to get raped. There's no way I would be able to call an escort service without giggling like a lunatic.
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