Where does the time go? Well, to the past I suppose, but isn't it crazy how fast this year went by? It seems like yesterday we were huddled together in Alumni, watching the football team … and now, 16 of us have already huddled together to watch Third Eye Blind rock Conte. It feels like we were just complaining about how they hadn't announced a commencement speaker yet … and already, they expect us to start complaining about him! My predictions for next year: UGBC scores Chumbawumba to play that song about lager drinks and that other one you kind of heard a couple of times … and then 45 minutes of other stuff. Opening for them will be local Boston band "Going Nowhere." And in an effort to promote diversity, Modstock will feature a hardcore Klezmer band called "Mötley Jew." Think ZZ Top, but not on Fridays. My prediction for the commencement speaker: In an effort to avoid controversy, the school will select a genderless robot with no racial or political affiliation that will not talk about global warming. It has been brought to my attention that it is May. I had no idea. If you had asked me, I would have said March, April tops … but May!? (Devout readers or people who just look at my headshot will note I live in a remote cave, devoid of sunlight or human interaction.) I don't need to be a senior yet. It's too much responsibility. Freshmen will start turning to me to learn how to shotgun a beer or look undeservedly important at social gatherings … and I just don't want to let them down. I kind of feel like Obi Wan when he took on Anakin as his Padawan apprentice in Star Wars - you know, just really unsure of myself … and a HUGE nerd. I find it ironic that junior year is the year you're supposed to grow up. All my friends are talking about their GPAs and LSATs. I have no acronyms in my life. I think I have Peter Pan syndrome - and not the cool one that makes you fly and sing well, the lame one that means you don't want to be an adult. Truthfully, I'm not afraid of the real world; I just think I would be terrible at it. I'm from the generation that thinks The Real World is the real world. I don't go to aquariums; I watch Shark Week on Discovery. I feel no need to "see the world" because I've already seen it … from my common room. Moving forward is a part of life, but I always figured that if we're all heading the same place, I might as well wander off and meet up with everybody later. The Heights hasn't yet told me whether or not I have this job next year (you should probably start a petition or at least a letter-writing campaign or something). I feel like I should take some time to reflect- yeah, that should waste some space. Honestly, I took this job because Kevin Allocca, who was the former writer and a buddy of mine from Hello…Shovelhead! said that he cleaned up while working for The Heights, girls-wise. My experience with the column was that exposing my bizarre inner monologue did not result in "babe magnet" status. In fact, I think it managed to scare people of both sexes. C'est la vie. Nevertheless, I gained a lot from my time here. I met a lot of amazing people, I learned how to sneak sexual innuendos into print, I got called a journalist (which was weird, at first) - but then, I realized that all I do is write slanted, mostly fictional accounts of life that make me look a lot better than I really am … so yes maybe I am a journalist after all. While writing this thing, it's come to my attention that I may have more readers than just my parents. And even though I've chosen to ignore you, you made this worthwhile. To all of you who made my writing a part of your Thursday/every other Monday, I thank you for your investment of time … and apologize for shoddy returns. And last, I would like to thank my two most loyal readers: my parents. Thank you guys for all your support … and for letting me take a job that pays $-46,000 a year.
Humor: A time to look back at what's passed
Published: Monday, April 30, 2007
Updated: Saturday, November 14, 2009
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