So it’s official.  I put the NCSU window decal in my car’s rear quarter window.

To go to school I have to get a copy of my immunization records.  Oh joy, oh bliss.

Many of my immunizations took place when I was in public school.  We had to queue in long lines and wait for an unsympathetic school nurse who would jab us with hypodermic needles about three feet long and four inches in diameter (”It won’t hurt a bit!”).   This was done for our protection, even though a few kids would bleed to death every year.

My first call was to the Scarborough Board of Education.  But wait - the Scarborough Board of Education no longer exists.  It was swallowed up into the Toronto District School Board.   And what are the chances that the records were actually transferred properly?

Not to worry, though.  It only took a few phone calls to find out that these records are actually maintained by the city - not the school board.  Great, I’m thinking!  I get to talk to more government people!

A call to the city turned up nothing.  Despite having lived there for 9 years, they don’t have any record of me.  But that could be because we moved to another region after my grade 6 year - and my records were likely transferred.

And the chances of these records actually having been transferred?

I call the Durham Region Office of Jabbing Kids with Long Needles and left a message (their answering machine indicated that the queue was about four days long).  Amazingly, I got a call back this morning indicating that they have no records going back “that far”; the oldest records they have are for people born in 1977 (I was born in the glorious year of 1975).

She suggested I call my family doctor.  The same overworked doctor that may as well not have a telephone, since the chances of it being answered are the same as tossing a quarter into a beer bottle (and if you’re thinking that’s impossible, since a quarter is larger than the neck of a beer bottle - then you’re right.  And those are precisely the chances of my call getting answered).

I made an appointment with my family doctor for a physical this Thursday, and I’ll raise the issue of immunizations as tacitly as possible.

And hopefully he doesn’t use three-foot-long horse needles.

I’m happy to report that with great pomp and ceremony, I posted the cap of my favorite fountain pen and put my signature on the acceptance line for North Carolina State University.  I signed a cheque (the first of many, I’m sure) with a few more strokes of the same pen, and took a deep breath as I handed the paperwork to the university cashier.

I might even head over to the bookstore at lunch and buy myself a bright red T-shirt.

I still need to go up to my old college to get a window sticker for my car.  That will be number three … and State will be number 4 … might need a car with bigger windows!  (Do Porsche 911’s have bigger windows?  Hmmm.)

The letter read as follows:

“Dear Mr. Helms:  On behalf of Chancellor James L. Oblinger and the faculty and staff at North Carolina State University, it is my pleasure to extend congratulations and notify you of your acceptance for dmission.  You have been admitted into the College of Humanities and Social Sciences - English for the 2008 Summer I semester.”

Happy silly holy fucking crazy-excited nonsensical utterances!  I’m in!

My university odyssey started back in 1993, when I began a degree in anthropology and Native Studies at Trent University.  That lasted all of two years.  I went to Fleming College in 1997 and did a 2-year diploma in geology (and finished that time around).  It always irked me that I never finished my bachelor’s degree, but I went on to make a good career and life for myself, and never gave it much thought.

Two years ago I decided to pursue my degree again, and had to pretty much start over.  I enrolled at Durham Technical Community College and completed 36 credit hours over the past two years (with a 4.0 GPA, I might add).

And today, I received the magic letter.  I’m in.

Of course they’re already asking me for money, so I’ll need to decide soon whether I’m actually going to take (what I hope will be) my last step towards getting my degree.

Knowing that a Target gift card is like crack cocaine to most women, I just thought I would share with the blogging world that i was given a Target gift card for participating in a taste test at NCSU this afternoon.

And what to do with my Target gift card?  Guess I’ll have to find some lucky gal to help me …