XI. Now that I'm here, I'll figure it out...

My school memories are not good. Daily beatings, stolen lunch money, embarrassing pranks, my mother insisting on kissing me every morning when she dropped me off – I hated college.

I was so confused my freshman year that I had three sex changes, and those were in response to a math question. I felt like a compass searching for true north in a room full of magnets. "I am a business major – no, I am an artist. I am a libertarian – no, I am an anarchist. Let's organize a rally!"

And the lack of sleep? Sleeping in a dorm was impossible. I finally bought a white noise generator but returned it because I felt it too discriminatory. (I was going through a liberal phase.)


Speaking of liberal, we would protest anything. We once had a sit-in at the dean's office to protest either sit-ins or deans' offices, I can't remember. And everyone at the school paper seemed much more concerned with Freedom of the Press than the actual press. Why work when you can complain? "They said we couldn't print jokes about rape, man. This is discrimination!" What a bunch of asses. I'm talking about the chicks. So hot.

Was high school any better? I don't know. I've blocked it out. I once watched Shawshank Redemption and experienced it as a recovered memory, though.

But some people loved school. To many of my friends, high school or college became the governing ghost of their lives, and they feel like life has never measured up. Don't be like them. Enjoy your college days – learn, live happy, be poor, make lifelong friends, sample relationships, make memories, but leave spiritually when you leave it physically.

Life has a way of getting better if you let it.