Where do babies come from? How are chicken patties made? What happens if you put diesel fuel in a minivan? What kind of pajamas does the Rev. Robert Niehoff wear to bed? What am I going to do next year?
These are some of the most important questions that face our generation and our University. I wish I could answer them for you, but I can’t. I’m not Jeeves.
I can, however, bring these issues to your attention and hopefully give them enough spotlight to put them at the forefront of a productive discussion among members of this campus so that some sort of conclusive results and answers can be achieved.
I would try to help, but I’m really not that interested in the majority of those questions. The one that concerns me most is the last one, because as much as the other questions keep me up at night, that last one seems to be the one most directly affecting my future.
2011 might as well be 20?? for me.
Next year I won’t have any reasonable excuse to still be in school. I’ll have completed my undergraduate degree and have no desire to enter graduate school. I’ve already reached the end of my rope with this whole “class” thing, so just making it to the end of next semester will be a small miracle worthy of a potentially lifelong sabbatical from institutionalized education.
It’s safe to say I’m mildly concerned about what I’ll be doing next year. It’s a mystery that even Sherlock Holmes would be wary of trying to solve.
I constantly get asked about what I’m going to do next year and I still don’t have a good answer. Well, unless you consider “I don’t know, probably living in a cardboard box somewhere hoping the Labre crew stops by my neighborhood,” a good answer.
My credentials include a pending B.A. in Communications and an already-received B.A. in being a B.A. I’m well-versed in calligraphy and have been to more than 10 states. As a kid, I would build elaborate recreations of King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, out of Legos. Also, I’m friends with the Man in the Golden Shoes, which should never be overlooked.
All that and I still don’t have anything solid lined up for next year.
The only solution I’ve come up with so far is to offer a reward for anyone who is able to figure out my life for me. So, I’ve decided that if you can tell me what I’m going to do next year, I’ll give you a million dollars.*
Yes, the reward is outrageous and excessive, but in this day and age I need to do something to stand out. I’m competing with TMZ’s Lindsay Lohan updates, panda bears on YouTube dancing to “Teach Me How to Dougie,” and Sarah Palin’s comments about WikiLeaks. That’s a lot of sensationalism to overcome!
As for the rest of those questions, I was just kidding about not knowing the answers. Babies are brought by the stork, chicken patties come from a box, putting diesel fuel in a minivan will turn it into Optimus Prime, and the Rev. Robert Niehoff wears an Elmo shirt and pleated pants to bed.
*Money will be transferred via annual payments of $15,000 continuing until the individual qualifies for social security, at which point it becomes the government’s problem.