Back To School

The best part of turning forty in twenty-two days, yet being a college student, is that you can roll out of bed to go meet with your college advisor and still be the best dressed person in the school's administration office. Clearly, it was wear your dirty sweats to school day.

As I sat waiting to speak to an advisor, I realized that the sweatpants were all on incredibly hot lads also there to receive advisement. At this point I had to remind myself that the dudes in the dirty sweatpants were born well after Morrissey released his Viva Hate album. I have found that I can simple stop myself from cruising hot guys at school is to ask myself, would this muscled guy next to me been alive to purchase R.E.M’s Green album? No? Depeche Mode’s Violator? Uh-oh. How about Nine Inch Nails The Downward Spiral? Crap.

Okay, so maybe I should pay less attention to the male student body/bodies, and more time on my class schedule. This semester choosing my classes was a little more problematic than the fall semester. The class timing was off; the school’s gym closes at 6pm, the cafeteria stops serving pizza at 8pm. I clearly needed to find an English Literary class that fit between the gym and pizza before my last evening class. Feeling that I had my priorities in line I was disappointed to find that my plan wouldn’t work.

My visit to school today was to help me prepare for the Spring Semester. What I’ve learned is that I'm not going to get hot pizza between classes, I might be a pedophile, and to blend in avec les masse I need to stop washing my sweatpants. Oh, and neon colored high-tops. I need unnecessarily bright high-top shoes. Like I wore back when I bought Morrissey’s Viva hate album.