Go to hell Duke, ok?

Occasionally I'll think that maybe, just maybe, I'm crossing over into adulthood. I'm never happy about it and I immediately try to counteract it by putting my hair in pigtails or watching a Disney movie. (Both of which, in my opinion, are still acceptable adult behaviors, as long as done in the privacy of your home.) But then, someone says something derogatory about UNC, or worse, something derogatory about UNC and something nice -- shudder -- about Duke, and I feel my grasp on maturity slip away. And all I want to do is kick them in the face. Twice.

And in the mental list I keep in my head of "things a grown up would do" and "things a grown up probably wouldn't do," I have to say that a kick in the face is probably in the latter. I'm also sure it does not qualify as a classy thing to do, and since I endeavor to always lead a classy lifestyle, I guess I can't just go around kicking random people in the face. Even though they really, really deserve it.

Which leads me, finally, to the point. To quote Jay Z, as I have before, "you can pay for school, but you can't buy class."

I am of what I consider to be a rare breed of someone who was a fan of the school before she was a fan of the basketball team. Seriously, little ol' six-year-old me, playing on the elementary school playground*, talking about going to UNC one day, didn't even know what basketball was. But damn if I didn't know that early that I was in love.

Keep on paying your hundreds of thousands for that education, Dookies. It doesn't equal class, no matter how much you think otherwise. And for the record, my Carolina degree doesn't equal class either; no degree does. I just wanted to hate on Duke for a bit.

*True story.