Friday had all the makings of
a beautiful day.

The sun was shining when I
woke up at 10:30 a.m. My first
class wasn’t until 3:25 p.m. It
was payday (for what it’s worth)
at The Red and Black. Georgia
was a 30-point favorite in the
weekend’s football game. And on
top of it all, I was going to have
time to play with my dog.

Then the unthinkable hap-
pened. I lost more than $700.

No, I didn’t take a day trip to
Biloxi. It didn’t fall out of my
pocket either.

I found out that I wasn’t get-
ting two scholarships that I’d
been cleared for months earlier.

And no, it wasn’t because I failed
to maintain a 3.0 grade-point
average.

I lost them because (God for-
did) I’m only taking two classes
this quarter. Call me a slacker,
but going into this quarter, I only
had five classes left before, gasp,
graduation.

Since I want to get the most of
my college experience (i.e. take
the full 12 quarters to graduate),
I decided to take only two class-
es.

Sure, I could have taken an
elective class that wouldn’t count
toward my degree. Or I could
have registered for two hours in
physical education classes or
voice lessons.

But after three years at the
University, I know I’ve learned
more outside of classrooms than
in them.

That’s not to say I haven’t
taken some very worthwhile
classes – I definitely have. But
outside of my journalism classes,
most classes I’ve taken haven’t
meant very much to me.

That’s exactly why I didn’t
want to take an extra class that
wouldn’t count toward my degree.

I wanted to use that hour each
day to learn things through the
best of all teachers – experience.

But the University doesn’t see
things my way.

So instead of using that hour
I’m not in class to learn things on
my own, I’ll spend it trying to
find a way to make my
University-mandated diet of
bread of water last a little while
longer.

But some good may come of
this. Through this column, I hope
to help other students avoid my
misfortune.

My first piece of advice is to
read the fine print on everything,
even if you’ve signed an identical
document three times before.

I’m someone who always reads
the fine print the first time I sign
something. My mistake was tak-
ing for granted that as a senior,
I’d already read the fine-print
three times before.

I thought I knew what it said.
Apparently I didn’t.

My other piece of advice is you
should never assume that if you
play by the rules, everything will
work out.

I came to college “ahead of the
game” with 20 hours in college
credits. I’ve never dropped a
class. I’ve never taken a course
that wouldn’t count toward my
degree.

And now I’m out $700, in part
because I played by the rules my
first three years in college.

But it won’t happen again. I
spent this past weekend (and
that extra hour I had today)
devising a plan to get all of the
scholarship money next quarter
that’s rightfully mine.

I won’t divulge the details, but
I’ve found a way around the
University’s ever-reaching red
tape.

And because my mom always
told me to be a “sweet girl,” I’m
even going to play by the rules.

I’ve already checked in the
registration guide for next quar-
ter, and there are no rules
against my plan for next quarter.

It may be a loophole, but at least
I can say I read the fine print
this time.

I may have lost game one in
our best-of-three series this year.
But watch out. Next quarter I’m
coming armed with a sinker to
baffle the big bats of the finan-
cial aid regulators.

– Beth MacFadyen is editor in chief of The Red and Black. Her column appears on Thursdays.