Trying to see if I want to, or in fact, am going to, transfer schools after two years brings back all the feels of trying to figure out college after high school; meaning: there are really smart people out there. And also the ever-popular: why did I plan on settling for the U of A for three years?
Because doing so pretty much means that I tried not at all. Which, surprise!, has consequences.
Anyway, long story short is that I will not be going to Stanford and not be able to gloat to my dad via envelopes of what I imagine to be air dewy sweet with the collective intelligence of bustling students. And although my idea of people striding to and from class wearing burgundy sweaters with great white S's on them has been disproved since Mary told me that no one strides to class, I still think it would be better than EWU.
(And there are no burgundy sweaters with great white S's, much to my dismay.)
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Ah, well, I am completely unversed in the colors of Stanford. At least I remembered it was red-ish.
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