Before I begin, this public service announcement is really only intended for seniors. Commencement is less than three months away. Judging from how full the CIM lab is on a Tuesday afternoon, and the fact that the guy next to me is working away on a PowerPoint so furiously the mouse is fused to his right hand, I would wager most aren’t really thinking about the end just yet. Sure, in a more abstract, holy-sh*t-I’m-about-to-be-jobless way, people are thinking about graduation. But that ticking time bomb is counting down more than just the days you have left on your parents’ health insurance — it’s counting down an era.
Being the harbinger of gloom, doom, depression and Career Services pamphlets has been my modus operandi in a number of archived essays, but I’m just not feeling it today. Maybe it’s the fact that Ohio keeps teasing us with beautiful day-drinking weather.
Maybe nothing interesting is going on in my immediate sphere. Or maybe I’m just sick of the uptick in snidely worded Letters to the Editor regarding this column; feel free to email me people, I even have one of those new fangled phones that lets me check email on the go.
Today, I don’t want to talk about the economy, international politics, women’s rights, emotional health or the fact that Ohio University is just jealous of us, because I’m taking a breather. Nothing of any intellectual or commercial value will follow this introduction, so to everyone who wants to be informed about something or will get offended by an extensive list of bar specials, please close your eyes and turn the page — you’ve been warned.
Less than 12 weeks. That’s all we have left. Twelve weeks of late-nighters, late-night Jimmy John’s and sometime-time-in-the-night booty calls. All the fun we can possibly cram into our last days is happening — as well it should.
It’s not that you don’t have school responsibilities, but if you’re still freaking out about managing your course load during semester eight (or 10), you haven’t learned anything in college. Take a Ferris Bueller day now and again. Go do something spontaneous and nuts for no reason other than the fact that you can.
Have you been to Mt. Adams in Cincinnati? Have you gotten in those last visits to friends at nearby colleges? Have you been to at every type of sporting event held at Miami University at least once? Have you had a kick-ball game in the middle of your street? Have you snuck back into your first dorm to give advice to the newbies living in your old room? Have you done 14-day club? Have you “beaten the clock or had a jam sesh at Piano Man? Have you sat down to do your homework, but instead grabbed your housemates for a trip uptown at least once this week?
If you don’t know the drink specials at four establishments uptown at this point, it’s time you learned. And before I step on some tea-totaling toes (again), let me acknowledge that these events can take place sober.
If you so choose to engage in drinking during these activities, I can only say have fun, but try to leave your debit card at home. Eat, drink and be merry. Finally, strike up a conversation with that guy in your capstone you’ve had a crush on for three semesters. Go up to the hottest girl at the bar and ask for her number. What’s the worst that can happen when you just live a little?
I’ll take one more nugget of wisdom from Wedding Crashers and say this: Rule #76, No Excuses. Play like a champion. Aside from the fact that’s the house name of a few of my best friends, it’s advice that needs to be appreciated for its simplicity.
Economy aside, we’re going to have jobs soon, and heaps of responsibility and oodles of boredom swathed in monotony. College is four years of freedom and fun that will not be replicated again in our lifetimes — so go forth my fellow seniors and let loose, for tomorrow we dine in the real world.