Helga stormed her way into the Student Lounge, tossing her backpack dramatically on to the nearest chair. “I curse the day my parents met.”  No one responded.  She often started conversations with some dramatic statement similar to this; she would need no prompting to continue.  “If they had not met, I would not be named Helga and be confined to the subpar education and training to  which I am being afforded.”  As usual, no one knew what she was talking about.  She went on to rant and rave about how her parents expected her to live a unique life, equal to her unique name, when all she really wanted was to invest in an associate degree before choosing the rest of her life path.  Before anyone could ask, “Who’s stopping you,” Helga had scooped up her belongings and was storming away in the direction of the Provost’s office.  The poor man never saw her coming.