A never released post written on the Auto-train down to Miami before the start of school. As you will read, my excitement (peppered with anger) was at an all-time high. I also don't think Lonnie reads this blog, so don't tell her about that joke in the first paragraph.
Alright it’s write this blog post or watch the on-train movie Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. And if I wanted to sit through a story about 16 year olds believing urban at-the-moment trendy music works to express their insignificant emotional frustrations, I’d just read Lonnie’s diary.
But seriously guys, I swear to god I have the biggest boner in my sweatpants thinking about what this year brings, and I figured instead of rubbing it out on the 130 year-old woman sitting next to me, I’d just share some of these thoughts with you.
It’s time…college is here once again. Guys, pack your v-necks and dog tags, your designer jeans, your graphic tees, and your video game systems for those of you who don’t get laid. Also don’t forget your expired condoms, Sean Goldfaden. This year might be the year.
Girls, don’t forget your blackberries, your backless shirts worn as dresses, your industrial sized hair-coloring bottle, and your dignity, which will be lost with the first semester’s penis you whore your way to snorting a line off of.
People, this new year is not to be taken lightly. It’s about new beginnings. If you’ve memorized the incoming umiami ’13 list on facebook, that’s a good start, Spuler. Obviously besides the new flock of girls fresh off the prom bus, there’s new houses for parties, new clubs to be cool for 3 months, new spots in the grove besides Barracudas that Jimmy should check out, and of course, a new living situation for most people.
Moving from one living situation to another needs some getting used to, so here’s a bit of insight:
The move from Hecht to Mahoney is like checking out of an insane asylum and moving to regular prison. You’re still trapped but without the fun. The Mahoney interior was designed to the proportions of Rikers Island, but at least you can smoke pot in the bathroom. The move from Hecht to another year in Hecht is a move only one type of person can make—girls’ favorite self-consciousness remedy—the creeper. Yet somehow through all the shit that girls talk about creepers (for no other reason than to show off that they are too good for at least somebody) this guy pulls ass due to his relentlessness and his inability to fear rejection, so stop hating and go grab some work ethic, Jonah. Either way, Hecht is the best place to live on campus if you don’t have a girlfriend or if you don’t have a roommate like this. The move off campus is the greatest move you can make in your life. It’s your first taste of independence, your first taste of food that you actually bought and cooked, and after a few weeks, your first taste of actually wishing you had a Chartwells card again because food shopping and cooking takes forever and you’d rather have shit for food served to you than the shit for food you suck at making. BUT, living off campus is a great way to get laid without your roommate pretending he’s asleep next to you but occasionally peering over to see how somebody else does it, it’s also a great way to have pre-games, parties, and after-parties and use the secret bathroom nobody else is allowed to use. It’s also a great way to never be seen again, just ask Eric Strauss. Wherever he is.
Although a new year brings changes, a new fall semester means some of the same old shit that we love about college. Football season gives us all a reason to be wasted together on Saturday afternoons, and when we are all exhausted after the game, it gives Harry a legit reason to smoke pot on a Saturday night instead of Shakira seizuring in a club on South Beach. Fall also brings grove police raids- the traditional school-wide cockblock (or early nightcap if you play your cards right). Fall gives us a chance to reunite with those who went abroad last semester as they awkwardly ease back into being friends with everyone who forgot they existed. Oh didn’t hear that hilarious story about last semester? That’s because you were off in another country flushing your parents’ money down the drain spending 80 euro to watch Coolio perform in a club that resembles your highschool friend’s basement while hanging out with only Americans because when you actually got to Europe, you realized Europeans, when compared to northeast jews, were creepy, snide, and un-relatable.
We can come to expect all of this and more for the upcoming semester, a semester that will be filled with class, tests, group projects, cocaine, acid, note-taking, studying, presentations, and finals. It’s finally time. Guys, hit the ATM. Girls, whore your way into getting that cash spent on you. Miami ’09-’10—why is Conor still here?
