I’ve long since given up on the advising system at Pitt. All that ever happens during these… I’ve long since given up on the advising system at Pitt. All that ever happens during these little advising sessions is that I get fired up about some required class that I didn’t gain admittance to, and start acting unacceptably rude to my overwhelmed adviser. Since I’m never proud of that kind of behavior, I decided a long time ago to brave the waters of academia sans any faculty guidance.

As I started to fill out my graduation application — yes, that’s right: You have to apply to get both in and out of this joint — I thought it might be a good idea to check in with my long-lost adviser to be sure I would indeed be able to bust out of here this spring. To my surprise, I found out that I did indeed fulfill all the requirements for both of my majors. All I needed were 15 more credits.

I left the office feeling pretty damn satisfied with myself. Unfortunately, my glee lasted about as long as an order of Buffalo wings in a college guy’s apartment.

The University was soon going to release me into the big, bad, real world, degree in tow. Yet I feel it is somewhat misleading, seeing as there is an abundance of minute endeavors I still cannot complete, regardless of my so-called academic aptitude.

The first essential task that comes to mind is the ability to drive a stick-shift car, although I am qualified to analyze political policy.

Just before my sister and I turned legal driving age, the parental units decided to replace our standard cars with automatics. They felt this would help to ease some of the tension in the drivers’ ed. process. While they are most certainly correct, learning to drive was still a bit of a nightmare, and it is nothing short of a miracle that my father and I are still on speaking terms.

Nonetheless, the closest I’ve ever come to driving a stick is a 15-minute lesson from a friend of mine in our high school parking lot. I nearly sent the poor guy to the emergency room to get treatment for whiplash as a result.

I can’t help but feel inadequate in the world of motor vehicles when I can’t even drive half of them. Plus, guys dig chicks who can drive stick.

Obviously, that’s what’s holding me back …

In other vehicular dilemmas, it has recently come to my attention that not only do I not know how to properly change a flat tire, but it took the graciousness of a fellow driver to bring to my attention the fact that my tire was indeed flat. If not for them taking pity on my being moronic, I probably would have continued to drive around off balance for quite some time. My resolution to the problem, which was delaying my shopping trip, was to call my dad to the rescue.

Pops arrived on the scene to change the tire, and I continued on my merry way, never bothering to watch the replacement process or ask how it should be done, should I ever end up in this predicament again.

Graduating means I will eventually have to get a dreaded J-O-B. I fully expect that if I’m ever actually hired, the job will inevitably suck, and I will have to use some form of entertainment to make the 9-to-5 workday slightly bearable. Most people, and certain Disney movies, suggest “whistling while you work” to avoid total tedium.

Strike three. Try as I might, I can’t get a tune to emanate from my pucker for the life of me. This is especially disheartening because I was raised in a household of tremendous whistlers. Both my father and sister could put most of you suckers to shame.

My diploma might be proudly displayed in a swanky mahogany frame, but God help me if I ever need to get the attention of the dog.

In this day and age, even I can’t deny that a college education is essential to succeeding in the real world. Regardless, it’s still important to remember that there are plenty of things in life that require attention — with or without a fancy-shmancy degree or title. Many of life’s achievements essential to a blissful existence are undoubtedly more important than one’s ability to whistle — like relationships and personal satisfaction — but they all have a similar characteristic: no degree necessary.

Colleen Bayus is recruiting volunteers to teach her to drive stick shift. Brave souls can e-mail her at [email protected].