GPS to GPA

Ah, GPS, one of many things that I wish by beloved 1997 RAV4 had inside it (other things I long for include a sound system capable of playing my iPod in the car and a completely reliable left blinker.)
If you don't know that GPS stands for "Global Positioning System", I weep for you a bit. They're generally voiced by an individual who sounds soothing and competent enough to coerce you, gently, to stop panicking and find a way to do a three point turn to escape from going the wrong way down a one way, dead end street in the ghetto. This is a much better system then the one I am experienced with, the traditional navigation system that my ex had for the two years we were living together-- ie, me, with an atlas and a perpetual squint. Unlike your average GPS, which would placidly announce "take your next left" in a voice that would make Stephen Fry seem absolutely manic, I tended to shriek incoherently until he had passed the required turn, then rifle frantically through the atlas as he shouted "what?" at an increasing volume until, inevitably, we stopped in a deserted parking lot to fume at each other and listen to Metallica until the urge to kill had somewhat diminished. Our experiences with one way streets were surprisingly abundant, and unsurprisingly terrifying. My reaction to them was just about the same as my reaction to normal street directions, only louder, and with more profanity. On our last fateful encounter of looking into the cold, dead headlights of an approaching Subaru Forester, I actually rent my garments in terror.

My God. It's full of stars.

You'll be gratified to know that we never got into an accident (together, at least. He was almost as bad a driver as I was a navigator, and has, since our breakup, totaled three cars. This may, however actually be a result of karmic retribution raining down upon him. I have totaled no cars.) but it was often a near thing. Perhaps because of this, I'm a big fan of GPS.
Except when people tell me the government can use it to find you.
This makes me panic, just a tiny, tiny, bit. As an English Major I was required by literature nerd code to read 1984, and ever since then things like satellites and CCTV cameras knowing where I am has being ever so slightly pants-shittingly horrifying.
And what's the most interesting record being kept on you between the ages of 18 and 23 (unless of course you're a criminal)? Your GPA! Yes, the record of your grades that makes you feel like your entire life is a video game, as your whole future hinges on how many experience points you have, and what level it puts you at. Every class you finish, in the corner of your eye you see a small blip of "Congratulations! You have been awarded the English 199 Achievement!"
Or maybe that's just me and a small collective of incredibly geeky 14 year-old boys.
Either way, there you have it. GPS to GPA.

Next up: Moon landing to Marmite.