Tuesday, February 21, 2006

2006...What? I have to be an adult?

Wow...I can’t believe I ever cursed the college life.

Well, there WAS one Saturday when that Italian paper was due. It was December, during study period, I waited until the last minute to finish my final paper, and it got so bad that the professor said, “Lauren, bring it to my house before 4PM on Saturday, and you’re clear.” I winked, gave her a nudge and said, “Thanks, doll” (insert mutual chuckle) We toasted with our Pinot Grigio and shared some laughs about the good ol’ times in class. Just kidding...I kissed her feet and ran out of her office before she changed her mind, or realized what type of major extension she had given me.
Even with the extension, there I was, Saturday morning. Jumped in the shower to “refresh” before tackling the job of finishing up...it turned out to be more refreshing when the shower water came out freezing cold. I figured, I’d have hours to take a shower before heading home later in the day. I also figured I’d have time to grab something to eat. Neither happened: 3:30 comes and I’m running to the Kenmore station and catching a train to Brookline to sprint to the professor’s mailbox. When I collapsed in the seat on the train, I reviewed my personal hygiene regimen that day: wake up, throw on jeans from Friday, and brush teeth. Look at the cold water running in the shower, turn off shower and plop it at the desk. Write about Carlo Levi until 3:30, put hair into ponytail and grab four quarters on the way to Kenmore.
I caught a reflection of myself in the window of the T as it emerged above ground on Beacon Street. My look was what we’ll call 5th grade retro: ponytail with a halo of frizz in the front and crooked glasses. People outside waiting to board my car scurried forward to get on the other car.
So, maybe I did curse college living once or twice....
But seriously, the concept of becoming an adult is one that lately has made me want to go back to kindergarten. Ride a school bus with Heath, wear saddle shoes, bring a snack to school in a My Little Pony lunch box, color for a few hours, and head home. I miss the good ol’ days where all I had to worry about was whether to play hopscotch or jump rope, or when I was going to lose a tooth. I thought about the tooth fairy the other day...it’s a shame we don’t lose teeth in our twenties—I could really use those quarters for the T.
I suppose the whole realization of becoming an adult was reinforced when I received an email about the 100 days to graduation party. 100 days? That’s not much, especially when you have a dentist appointment and seven doctors to go to before you’re off your dad’s insurance. That reminds me I should go see a podiatrist, a chiropractor and a shaman...just in case. I wonder if Blue Cross covers medicine men....
Anyway, Sparks and I decide that the 100 days bash sounds like a good time. Have a few drinks, dance a bit and see some old faces from all four years at BU. We got snazzed up in our best Thursday duds (that means I had to borrow a “club-ish” shirt from my YOUNGER sister to pass as a hip soon-to-be college grad). I threw the shirt on, tried to invent some cleavage, and applied some make up (taking the lesson also given to me from my younger sister, who has informed me that chapstick is not appropriate evening makeup).
We got to the Big Easy, got in line with our fellow seniors and waited to get into the club. I looked around. This was the moment where I wanted to run into the folks I’ve met along my college career. Give hugs, remember the good times in Warren, goof on a few professors. Alas, it was not the red carpet moment I was looking for. Not only did I know hardly anyone, but it seemed like everybody else was making connections all around me. I felt like I was an audience member on a reunion Ricki Lake show: “I haven’t seen my momma for 35 years and I want to surprise her on a UPN daytime sleaze show....PS I am also sleeping with my best friend’s boyfriend and we might throw a paternity test in there for good measure.”
In any case, we went into the club, reunited with some old gal pals and got a few drinks. I was also careful to stop by the snack table and score some cheese...cause what better to celebrate your impending graduation than with a cube of sharp cheddar?
I looked over the dance floor from my spot on the second floor balcony and made a discovery. I am graduating with a bunch of hoochies. I know- it sounds awful, but it’s true. The thing is, this isn’t your average sleazy girl. No no...this is college, so naturally it’s got to have a twist. In this case, the twist was that all the really slutty girls were all decked out in what appeared to be tube tops made out of burlap and hemp. What I mean is, they sort of combined the whole “I’m easy” look with the “I recycle” look and came out with this warped and unappealing Mother Earth gets down and dirty thing. It’s like, they’re the girls you see on the street corner....but they’re workin’ it in front of Whole Foods.
In any case, the night was a pretty good time, I managed to keep my sister’s shirt clean and was able to get up for Roman Civ at 9AM.
Ahh...classes. Where to begin?
I guess my most amusing class would be Roman Civilization. First off, this is my first class in a long time that’s in English and has more than 9 people in it ...AND has more than 2 guys in the class (I don’t know what it is about Italian Renaissance Literature that doesn’t draw the guys in...) First off, it meets at 9 in the morning, which makes things interesting to get from Kenmore to the GCB on a few hours of senioritis sleep. Never the less, Sparks and I usually manage to arrive just as our esteemed professor is arriving. I can’t say I dislike our professor...in fact, I have to say I admire her passion for classical studies...I can also envy this passion, especially because I am starting to lose interest in analyzing what an inscription on a pottery shard means in terms of Roman civil code. Yeah, that never actually was a part of class...I just haven’t done much reading and made that up...
Maybe part of the reason I don’t really do much reading (besides my supreme ability to slack with the best of them) is because I’ve been applying for a few jobs. This means, making a resume, a daunting task for any first-timer, especially people like me, who I will refer to as “concise-challenged” AKA, a chatterbox who has never been able to keep it to 250 words or less. With this problem, as well as being new to the world of resume writing, I started wondering what to put on this resume. I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be great to make a resume of yourself that was non-work related? Instead of writing professional qualities, education and past employment, you could just write the fun stuff?
Following is one such resume, for yours truly:
Objective: to obtain a position as a tri-lingual slacker/ice-cream taste tester, preferably in Rome. Desired salary is 1,000,000 US dollars per year, but will settle for less if you throw in a pink Vespa.
Qualifications:
Personal Qualities: This candidate is goofy, laughs easily and often overdoes it. Can be organized, but not in her sock drawer, so don’t go looking there. Or her closet, or under her bed...or in her desk drawers. Better to not ask at all...
She also does an excellent impression of the North American beaver, as well as a spitting good one of the 39th president of the United States, Jimmy Carter, complete with patriotic dance. (Live demonstrations are available upon request).

Relevant course work:
DA 170: Beginning Tap: This course gave me a great background in the all-important “shuffle-step,” and I am now able to bust an organized tap move on command.

PE 142: Epee Fencing: This course will be of particular interest to you if you are a nerd with an Anime obsession/anger problem and wish to apply those skills in a painful sport, complete with small circular bruises on your right leg. For me, it helped me eliminate one thing off the “What I want to do with my life” list: professional fencer. Thus, I was able to see my true calling as a gelato taste tester.

CS 103: Computer Science: This course really helped me with....wait, this course was a total waste of time....nevermind.

Additional skills:
Excellent at making banana bread and pumpkin squares: I would be a hit in the break room.
I’m particularly skilled in the macarena, and the electric slide. I also come from a long family line of expert chicken dancers.
I can recite all the lines to PeeWee’s Big Adventure, the definitive cinematic classic of our generation.

Conclusion:
In conclusion, I am an excellent asset to any company, and I am sure my slacker skills and discerning palette for ice cream will make me your ideal employee.
Thank you for your time and consideration.

To my blog readers: leave your thoughts for any additions to this stellar resume. I’ll definitely take them into consideration! Well, for now, that’s what is going on with me. Any senior can tell you that this last semester is nerve-wracking and full of questions...maybe the best we can do is to goof on the whole thing, and dance around like a beaver doing the electric slide. (Boogie woogie woogie!)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey dude, good entry. It cracked me up. I've got another suggestion to add to your resume:

Experienced quilter--We are experienced quilters who have masterfully sewn phrases like "I can't say Kentucky" and "I know you are but what am I" into our beloved and priceless quilt.