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Some people, through the grace of luck or whatever deity you subscribe to, are smooth. Some of you lucky readers out there can walk into a room, light it up, and say some of the funniest stuff I’ve ever heard without skipping a beat. If you are one of these smooth, debonair, James Bond impersonators, please go read a different article. You don’t need to hear what I have to say. Actually, please read the last paragraph.

Are they gone? Good. Now for the rest of you shmucks out there, I have a problem with you. To all of you Steve Urkels, Screech’s, Ron Weasley’s, Lindsay Lohan’s, Snookie’s, and George Costanza’s in the room, please pay attention. Legendary screw ups, alcoholics and people who just don’t get it of the world, please learn to control your shit.

Now as much as the administration may not like my use of cuss words in this article, please know it’s for a point. Those of you who I’m speaking of know who you are. You go to clubs, drink way too much, embarrass your friends, and go home with whatever northeastern guy is desperate enough to take you. Or a judge puts an ankle bracelet on you and you go drink at the MTV movie awards (really?). Or you bust into the house of the woman you like, bust all the dish’s, and exclaim “Did I do that?” Or you propose to a woman, she says yes, and then you inadvertently kill her because you were to cheap to buy envelopes with better glue.

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YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!

Dang, That’s A Wicked Umpire’s Tan

Ok sooooo yes, alright.  As of late, if you’ve been keeping up with my last couple posts, I’ve been at a loss for words which is really not my style….ever.  I have decided to

YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!

remedy this issue by doing what I used to do on my own blog that I will not shamelessly plug here —–> I told you I wouldn’t, geez have some faith.  Basically my old blogs were me rambling on and on about different things that I’d experienced or thought about that day.  Usually these ended up being about four pages of nonsensical craziness involving lists, pictures, elaborate imagery, and random tangents shooting off in every direction.  Tis true they were most good times indeed when I wrote that blog but alas, I traded up to this lovely blog.  Perhaps, it’s all the pressure that keeps me from just sitting down and writing or perhaps it’s simply that I do not feel as inspired to write while at home like I did when I was at school.  It’s a mystery, life is a mystery.  Boom!  I just laid a truth bomb on you.

I’m sitting on my bed trying to think of all that I’ve done lately and the only thing that comes to mind is work, work, work, and work some more.  I have already written a post on my job, an umpire, so I hesitate to speak much about it but perhaps I can morph the basis into a post about jobs in general.  Sound good?  Awesome.  Jobs, for the most part, suck.  At least that is the general consensus I’ve heard from my friends from all over.  A few really enjoy their jobs and hey, more power to them, but for the vast majority of us, we’re not thrilled with our regular jobs.  I don’t like to generalize, but I feel relatively confident on this one.  Each and every job has some perks and some hellish qualities as well but money is money and we all need money because unfortunately we are not all spoiled blonde heiresses born into money that they probably don’t appreciate at all.  I feel like that previous sentence got a bit spiteful…..

I try so hard not to hate you.

Anyway, I think what is important to remember when we look at our past, present, and future jobs, is not what it took from us but rather what we gained from it and I don’t mean your salary.  I’ll use myself as an example.  As an umpire, I take more *expletive* than just about anyone I know.  Does it get to me?  On occasion.  Do I let it affect my performance?  Never.  If I’ve gotten anything from my job over the last seven years (dangggggg that’s a long time in retrospect) it’s an infinite sense of patience, an amazing ability of selective hearing, the ability to stay calm under pressure, great people and leadership skills, and a wicked umpire tan.  Think farmers tan but only my brow down to my collar bones and my elbows to my hands.  Sexy, right?  With the skills I’ve not only obtained but developed, I have become  a much more confident in not only who I am but in the face of adversity.  Balls and strikes may seem insignificant when it comes to fighting what you believe in, but defending those calls have helped me to be more confident in my other choices in life.

I looked up celebrities to try and find a “cool” person you could connect to but alas all I could really find was that Kristen Bell worked at a yogurt stand where she served fruity treats that occasionally had fruit flies in them and that Mickey Rourke went and made sure people paid their “debts” to other certain people.  Not quite what I was shooting for but alas, c’est la vie.  I hope that you too can take a look back and be like, “Man, that job at the library really sucked, but hey, now I have a new appreciation for books.”  Or, “Starbucks was awful but now I can make wicked good coffee drinks for my friends at my apartment.”  Or even, “Dude, Home Depot was terrible but now I can build a sweet shed.”  (If you think of more of these please comment below!)  I suppose if I were to attempt to wrap up my blog in a sentence it would be this: While a job may seem useless and only a way necessary to legally obtain money, don’t close your mind off to the other benefits it could give you down the road.  Fin.

I think we all think like this just a bit deep down inside.

Be Younonymous: I’m Getting Married.

Welcome to a new series from Culture Shock, Be Younonymous. Here, anonymous members of the BU community contribute their stories from campus life and beyond under the condition of complete secrecy. Have a story? e-mail it to Beyounonymous@bucultureshock.com . We’ll take it to our servers’ graves.

I’m marrying my boyfriend so that his military benefits will help get me through my last year at Boston University. I never thought I’d have to take the drastic measure of getting married just to finish college. When you’re a kid you look at the world in these black and white terms: go to college, study hard, have fun, graduate, get a great job, live a happy life. You don’t think of how a simple lack of money could keep you from your dreams.

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Blame It On The Alcohol

During the latter half of each week, I always like to watch the incoming freshmen and their families come onto campus for orientation. I am always both amused and saddened by the sight: amused because they all look so young and remind me so much of myself just a few short years ago. However, the larger part of me is saddened because, as I’m sure all the rising seniors will agree, a new class means that we get closer to the top of the food chain…and thereby closer to graduation. Nonetheless, I often think back to my freshmen year, how I’ve changed and what I’ve learned. Some lessons came easier and quicker (GO TO CLASS), while others took a lot longer for me absorb.

One of the first non-academic lessons I ever learned is that college is not an excuse or a reason to binge drink on the weekends like most of us tend to do. Admittedly, it is a large part of college, and sometimes it’s kind of appropriate to let loose, but it’s only supposed to occupy a minimal amount of your time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for celebratory drinks (EDITORS NOTE: IF YOUR 21) after a particularly stressful exam or long boring week; it does the human soul some good to get out every now and again. The problem is that we usually get out of control—we will find our comfortable limit…and then knowingly exceed it. In general, I consider this only half of the problem: we drink too much and make a fool of ourselves, but for the most part its all in “good fun”. The more serious half of the problem is that we use the excuse of being drunk to do things we would otherwise not do.

That is altogether more worrisome, because there’s a reason we don’t do certain things in everyday life. Too often, people justify their actions by blaming it on the alcohol (thank you, Jamie Foxx). But in reality, when does ‘liquid courage’ become ‘liquid recklessness’? We’ve all done something stupid and woken up the next morning with a screeching headache and raging guilt. It ranges from drunk dialing the ex you never got over to doing questionable things with even more questionable people. Why do we knowingly risk our physical and emotional health for a few hours of bar hopping, dancing and a random hook-up?

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