Sometimes I feel like I have too much of an academic life, but in the non-clich‚/ tapered jean wearing/ getting to Van Pelt before it opens/on your way to Harvard PhD land sort of way. Simultaneously, I have a very satisfying, often exhausting social life (if this doesn't apply to you, imagine you do more than attend the Objectivist Club meeting on a Tuesday night), which leaves me to ponder: what exists between countless hours at Van Pelt coupled with colorful nights ending in toilet bowl reflection? After a few bong hits, I experienced a once in a lifetime golden revelation. And so I am here to tell you about my friend Jesus, who has the omniscient power to fill that sad hole in your heart and lead your distraught being to salvation. Music stops. Just joshin.' That religion thing is like so 5 years ago.
What I'm getting at is how one spends their 24 hours each day. Here's my list: wake up, hit the gym, shower, coffee, DP, class, magic meatballs on the green with someone I never see to act like we are still bff, class, library to do work, home, nothing, tv, emails, IM (the treacherous dark hole of hilarity and productiveness sucking) dinner with the roomies, read, nothing, maybe some pot smokin' and some Super Troopers watchin' causing some pants shittin'. Or maybe Smokes to drink pitchers and play quarters with Natty Light, paying like its Miller Light, all to end in bed alone. Or, more likely, I'm there on a weekend night, where with the pick of the night is based on soul-less drunken pure sexual aggression. In all honesty, it feels invigorating for the time it takes to get off, but never worth the 10 a.m. shameful walk and weird-awkward "see ya later" interlude. As if I need to add more to my already intense "because I'm no longer an immortal freshman" hangover.
So, to get back to my point: what can we do to add more to the black hole between work and fun? Neither I, nor you, need to be in another extracurricular group. Let's be honest: activities are never fulfilling unless you are the boss, and can thus alienate, demean, and hand over the shit-work to freshmen and other inferiors. Perhaps we need more free time to frolic in Philly. I mean, I did tell my college counselor I wanted a big city, not a campus which provides a one-way connection to BYO's and bars- by way of cab- which time and time again leaves me confused as to where the hell Old City is (thanks to my personal adage: always pre-game before downtown to save money). Result? I never remember the places or people of the night somehow.
Maybe we need to schedule coffee with freshman year friends: those that got cooler, hotter, or whom you just miss when you compare them to the fucks you are friends with now. Yeah, right. Your current friends are so much cooler, especially with the knowledge that you've invested more than a grand in a frat or sorority to obtain such high-rankers. You've totally ignored and ostracized all people you knew before you were in with the coke-snorting, Prada flinging, gossip knowing scene-- a world which is proudly more exclusive than a Steven Starr restaurant opening. In all this, I've come to one conclusion: contrary to what greedy-high school graduate authors of whiny self-help books say about embracing and loving change prophesize...fight fight fight the inkling to change. Save that energy for casual sex and the elliptical at the gym.
Generic Chinese Restaurant Fortune of the day: Love brings out the devil in all people; see Mystic River. (Pissed cause it's not a fortune? Apparently you didn't get the memo. Chinese fortunes are never fortunes anymore, shitface).
