I’ve never given them a cent, and I never will. (Got an academic scholarship—the largest they offered—which paid for half of my college expenses. Parents paid for other half. They actually donated some money to my school once. When I found out about it, I told them never to do it again.) I went to California Lutheran University, a tiny (smaller population than my high school—around 1200 students) liberal arts college about an hour away from Los Angeles. It sucked. The classes weren’t challenging and most of the students weren’t worth knowing. You want to know why I chose to go to this school? Let’s see. It was one of the schools we visited on a college tour I went on with others from my high school. I grew up Lutheran (though I stopped attending church, stopped considering myself a Christian during the time I went to good ole Cal Lu). I liked the fact that it was a small school. (The only other school I applied to was USC, and that school is huge!) But the biggest reason I went to CLU was that they offered a degree in Accounting, as opposed to a business degree with an emphasis in accounting. Yes, you read that correctly. I thought I was gonna be an accountant. (No offense, Cara. Accounting is simply not for me.) I figured I’m good at math and actually like it and accountants can make lots of money, so there you go. First semester freshman year I signed up for Basic Accounting. Dropped the class soon after. Second semester freshman year, same thing. Now, I wasn’t one of those students who dropped classes frequently, either. My next major was Psychology. I find psychology fascinating. But that didn’t stick, either. My junior year of college I spent in London on foreign exchange. That was one of the best parts of my college experience. (I was gonna say it was the best, but all the casual sex I had my senior year—yes, I didn’t start fucking guys till I was nearly 22; I had this idea that the only guy I was gonna fuck was gonna be the guy I was gonna be with; quaint, huh?—and all the fun I had with this friend of mine—a lot of which led to meeting the guys I fucked—was pretty amazing as well. Although I did do a lot of not fucking but still having a great time with a variety of guys in London, too.) At the end of my time in London, I did not want to go back. I didn’t want to go back to CLU certainly, but I didn’t want to go back to America, either. There was no one there I would have particularly missed. Well, maybe one person. Anyway, to make the transition back to sucky Cal Lu easier, I decided to become an English major. (Spoiler alert: That’s the one that stuck.) I figured, I like reading literature—a lot more than reading textbooks, that’s for sure. Here’s the sad thing: the professors at Cal Lu actually managed to make literature boring. I enjoyed reading it, but the classes were for the most part dull dull dull. But at least I managed to graduate in four years despite changing my major my senior year. That makes me so happy, I think I’ll go back and visit next time they have a homecoming game. Ha.