Nipple cutting and college. It’s all relative I guess.

23 Aug

I would cut off my left nipple to be going back to college right now.

I know that’s dramatic (yet totally true), but this time of year always gets me…seeing the young folk with cars full of shit from Bed Bath & Beyond, a black light, quarters and a pillow (basically all you need in life) heading out on the road to embark on a new year of awesomeness with a touch of coming-of-age.

As they pass by me in their fun-filled cars of possibility, I plaster my face and hands against the car window screaming “please God take me with you!” trying to not get arrested as I frighten everyone on the highway. Again. In Target, I grasp the legs of their mothers as they drag me down the aisles, in hopes that much like an old doll, I’ll end up in a bag with a year supply of Tide or in one of their new hampers.  

I'm not sure which college this group of people attend, but this looks more like a United Colors of Benetton orgy?











And then I reminisce about my college going days…

I’d pack up my car, say goodbye to my healthy, steadfast parents, pop in my No Doubt Tragic Kingdom tape – yes a cassette tape. Settle down, at least it’s not an eight track – and head up to school. I was basically the center of the universe. And admit it, so were you.

I’d hang my favorite tapestry on the cement, prison-like wall of my dorm room (a room that cost more than my mortgage annually) and adorn my ceiling with Beatles posters. It was like 300 square feet of freedom. With another person jammed in the room with you. Thank the sweet lord of keg cups that we had the Trainspotting soundtrack and an eight-inch t.v. to keep us from going crazy in our cell. Ah, the nineties.

I’d go down to the cafeteria with some friends to catch-up, act cool and dip my chicken fingers in my mashed potatoes (hello Freshman 15 35).

Then we’d go to class (the single most important thing in the UNIVERSE) and act like we actually knew what we were talking about. We were, after all, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one.

If you look close enough, there's a picture of me crying on the front steps because I'm old and they won't let me in.










It’s funny how in college the most important decisions in life were which party to go to on Friday and should you go to the Balls or study for the Biology exam on Thursday night? Ah, the decisions! Answer: Study for the Bio exam obviously. Then go to the Balls. It’s all about balance. And anyway, as far as dance clubs owned by completely unstable drug addicts go, the Balls was a mecca of sorts. So we kind of had to go.

There was no debt ceiling crisis back then. The only ceiling crisis that I can recall was when my roommate and I got charged extra for writing on the ceiling in laundry detergent to accentuate said black light. My parents were psyched.

There were no 529, 401k, Roth IRA, or any other “vehicles” to “defer” to. DotComs were on the uptick and jobs were a-plenty. It was quite simple really. Would we live on campus or off? Would you take 8:30 am classes? Would A Street party house be condemned or would it live to see another year so we could jam out to Rusted Root in its bowels? If only life were still as easy as that slutty girl in your Spanish class.

Now that we’re the ripe old age of thirty something, I look back on college and laugh at how seriously we took ourselves when we were young. I wish I had not worried so damn much about Humanities exams and saved all the anxiety for 9/11, flu epidemics (count em, there have been three), natural disasters, bill paying and the ensuing loss of loved ones.

So to my readers heading back to school, enjoy yourself, work hard (but lighten up) and be grateful. Your real worries are right around the corner. And they do not include getting your belly button pierced, that exam that will not ruin your life or the (hot) douche bag in your socioeconomics class.

You want worries? How about this guy's car payment and all of those damn mouths to feed? Go back to your work-study job before I open hand slap the taste out of your mouth.










So go forth and be young. <weeps into pillow>.


2 Responses to “Nipple cutting and college. It’s all relative I guess.”

  1. Luda August 26, 2011 at 7:14 pm #

    I must be missing some sort of special gene because I dreaded going back to college with every fiber of my being.

    That rhymed. I didn’t mean for it to rhyme.

    • Bitchin Sisters August 29, 2011 at 6:15 pm #

      probably because you’re about the wittiest person on the internet and everyone else sucked. True story.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: