I, like some other people reading this, belong in the “poor college student who has no idea… I, like some other people reading this, belong in the “poor college student who has no idea what they’re going to do with their degree” category. Clearly, we’re in the wrong line of work.
We’re a breed of inhabitants assumed to have some inkling of scholastic potential — studying instead of sleeping during the week and all that jazz. But then we drink ourselves stupid on the weekends.
Most of our apartments should be condemned by the Department of Health, and more of our money is spent on a diet that consists of ramen noodles and booze than on frivolous luxury items like cleaning supplies or laundry.
It’s not an easy lifestyle. I know people who are hard at work earning their “I’m going to design the windshield wipers for the space shuttle” degrees while simultaneously holding a job and still find enough time to participate in enough extracurricular activities to impress even the most zealous of overachievers. Frankly, I don’t know how they do it.
We all push through the muck, blindly walking toward some mystical light at the end of the tunnel that is supposed to make the entire struggle worthwhile. After all, our education is supposed to set us up for a stable lifestyle in which we will be successful and productive members of society, right?
Sure, I mean that’s what has been drilled into us since high school, and what all those glossy pamphlets Pitt sent to us prior to our arrival at this fine institution of higher learning claimed.
At the end of last semester, during the height of finals week hell, I was running on about four hours of sleep a night and so hooked on caffeine that I developed a constant twitch in my right leg. I was considering booking myself an appointment at the eye doctor to examine my retinas, which had burned out after hours of staring at my computer typing papers.
It was time for a break. I switched on the TV and found myself tuned into the antics of Bam Margera and his crew on the MTV show “Viva la Bam.”
For those who have better things to do than watch cable TV shows, “Viva la Bam” is a spin-off of the hit “Jackass” where Margera pulls a bunch of pranks on his parents and the audience gets to sit back and enjoy the ride. The show is a riot. Every time I watch it, I laugh until I’m on the floor.
However, this time I was viewing during an I-hate-the-world finals stress-induced mood. Suddenly, I couldn’t help but notice a few details I had not previously taken into consideration.
For starters, that sure is a nice $80,000 Hummer that Margera cruises around in. Must be nice to be able to pick up and jet off to Vegas with all his friends and stay in a hotel suite on the strip for a couple days. Wish I could spend my day skateboarding in the comforts of my own backyard.
Apparently I missed the memo on “How to live like a rock star for literally being a ‘Jackass.'”
My sister actually ended up sitting behind a bunch of the “Viva” guys on a flight this summer. When she called to tell me, she filled me in on how the guys were intensely debating what color they should chose for their new Range Rovers.
What is wrong with this picture?
Obviously, I should screw this going-to-class business, become friends with Paris Hilton, score my own reality TV show. It would be smooth sailing from then on out.
After I calmed down and came back to reality, I reminded myself how sweet of a deal college really is.
For the most part, we’re still freeloading off our parents for four (if not more) years, yet don’t have to deal with them in our faces all the time. We have classes that we may or may not go to, but we’re bound to learn something useful from them — at least by default. We’re exposed to new people and ideas everyday, all while living in a city that includes fries and coleslaw as part of its sandwiches. If that’s not culture, then I’m not sure what is.
It may not be on the same level of cool as getting your own TV show for ironing hamburgers on all your dad’s clothes, but living the college life, Oakland style, is bound to make you appreciate wherever you live and whatever you do once you’ve received the diploma that makes you eligible to design those windshield wipers for the space shuttle.
Colleen Bayus will someday drive a burgundy Range Rover with the same windshield wipers used on NASA space shuttles — after she gets a job, of course. E-mail her for a ride at cab2357@pitt.edu.
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