Observation of Youthful Undergrads: Beyond the Tongue Ring
Technically, my degree is in Communications. My covert degree is, of course, “Observation of Youthful Undergrads: Beyond the Tongue Ring.” My thesis will focus on the correlation between the shrinking bodies of youthful undergrads in direct relation to their lack of knowledge of (or interest in) the world beyond the body piercings that decorate their emaciated frames.
MmHmm.
Yes, it’s grand. I’m taking one class, an English class, in which I will get to do some writing, so that’s good. And the professor, who is younger than my oldest compact disc, now shares knowing glances with me. She has seen that she cannot outsmart or outwit me, so she’s decided to play nice with the grownup lady in her class.
And yet some of the kids –I mean, my fellow students– seem to have no clue that I’m their parents’ age. I think my youthful appearance and general lack of maturity in some areas has them fooled. Oh, they don’t think I’m their age, but they don’t think I’m 40. (Hell, I don’t think I’m 40!)
Mostly they are cool. In the English class, I’m making friends with the lad who always (after two weeks, it’s already “always”) sits behind me. Sean (that’s “Se…” not “Sh…”) is one of those quiet lads who is thoughtful (thinks a lot, not sure if he’s polite yet) and will do well in his young life if he uses me as his model for girlfriends. The sober me, not the young, drunk me, mind you. That would be a disaster and young Sean would
never finish college. I’m kidding, by the way, about my being the model for girlfriends. It’s not an entirely bad idea, but I don’t see how I can convince young Sean to follow this advice.
My campus job… of course you want to know about that. I’m working in the office of my advisor. I liked her already, but she earned bonus points when she read a Dr. Seuss book to the entire group at orientation. Yup, a woman who will not be moved from her agenda, no matter how many bored sighs and shifting hineys can be heard during her page-turning pauses.