Random Acts of Ismael:

College: One Year Later/One Year More Smarter

            Well, it’s been over a year since I wrote my first rant about college—albeit, it’s been only a few months since that rant was posted—and I figured it was about time for a fresh perspective on the college scene, through the eyes of a thirty-one year student—stop laughing, I’m still bigger than most of you. 

            So my loyal, proud, loving fan, when I last left you I was but an apprentice student, a novice if you will.  But now, I am full-fledged, battle-hardened, seasoned, upper sophomore at Hunter College, studying for a Major I do not think I’ll ever use and a Minor that won’t get me a job working the counter at McDonalds. That’s right, I said a Major I’ll never use.  I’m an F’ing transporter at a hospital—a grunt, if you will—what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is a Media Degree going to do for me in that field?  Can I use my degree to get a job advertising my transporting skills?  No!  Can I use the degree to create a website to promote my transporting skills?  No!  Can I use my obtained knowledge to propagandize other hospitals’ quality of transportation so that all those with broken hips and cancerous stomachs choose to be wheeled around by me instead of by another grunt?  No, really, can I?  ‘Cause, if I can, I’d like to know.  Seriously!  I have no idea what to do with a Media Degree. 

            Don’t get me wrong, I actually love going to school.  The working hard breaking down my body all day and sitting in a classroom and overtaxing my limited mental capacity all evening is beyond fun.  I don’t miss sleep, free time or coherent thoughts.  I don’t mind  spending five hundred dollars a month of money I do not have, don’t mind taking out student loans to pay for the massive credit card bills I’ve racked up since I’ve started school, and don’t mind falling asleep all over the place, because I have no time to do so at home anymore.  I like being poor, owing money and having an excuse to sleep during church and other boring functions—actually, I do like that.  When I’m a Media Major, I’ll pay it all back using…utilizing…after obtaining…Ahh hell!  Your guess is as good as mine on that one.

            Nah, but seriously, while I’m skeptical about my future, I’m not complaining.  I made a choice and I’m sticking with it.  I actually love the thrill I get when I get an A in a class that I couldn’t care less about, love making new friends, cutting the occasional class, ignoring the professor to talk to said friends, and arbitrarily deciding which homework I will or will not do because I only have time to do two out of four of what’s due on any given day.  I’ve met a lot of good people in my time there, and I wouldn’t trade them for any amount of rest in the world.  And my collegiate experiences have been rich and welcomed.  My only regret about it is that I did not have these experiences when I was younger, unemployed and thus free to indulge in more reckless behavior known to college life—not that I would do anything illegal….(wink).

            On a positive note, the good thing about Hunter is that the ratio of boys to girl is ridiculously skewed in the boy’s favor and that ratio is even greater when you go at night.  Had I stayed in Lehman College straight out of high school, I would have been the same social misfit I had always been, shy and awkward around girls.  But being older, married and with a decidedly encouraging lack of competition, I find that socializing with sweet young women is easy, almost impossible to screw up.  Now, I must state that I’m not looking for any kind of extra-marital relationship, but the boost to the ego of being able to converse with a girl without her looking at you like you’ve got a fourth testicle hanging off of your nose is quite refreshing—by the way, the third one was removed some time ago so stop bringing it up. 

My only real competition is the wannabe death metal rocker in the back with the Guns and Roses ringtone on his cellphone.  And for those of you who don’t know who Guns and Roses are, they’re Velvet Revolver with a different lead singer…You don’t know who Velvet Revolver is either?  That’s it, get the F*** out of my rant, out of my site and out of my internet!  You’re banished!  BANISHED!...Wait!  Come back, I was only joking, please don’t leave me, I need all the loyal fans I can get.  Please, stay and I’ll do that thing you like…you know, that thing with the carrot and the—anyway, back to my rant.

            So overall, two years into my higher education, and I have yet to flunk out, yet to drop out, yet to bomb out, and yet to punk out.  I’m going strong with a 3.8 GPA—suck on that bee-atches—and I have no plans to stop now.  I like where I am and even though I have little faith in the piece of paper that I will get at the end of the rainbow, this Dorothy will tap his ruby red slippers into the poorhouse and make the best of time in the Wonderful World of Learning.  To all those who plan to do the same and follow in my immortal footsteps, I say to you to start early, rest up, study hard and pick a piece of paper that will further your career, not one that will line a bird cage somehow—especially when you don’t have a bird. 


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