Saturday, December 27, 2008

Cottage Cheese Thighs

I have a feeling that the things I have been told to expect in college are not your average expectations. I've only seen the movies. Love Story. My one true love will die young and leave me depressed and alone. The Graduate. Right before I leave for college I will have a steamy affair with a 40-somethin' I'm not even on first-name-basis with who has a sexy leg. Animal House. Naked pillow fights and pothead-professors. So who do I go to in order to get the real deal? The ones who've been there.

"You'll meet an intelligent, mature boy..."

Mature boy...oxy moron?

"Excuse me, a mature young MAN..."

I could be dating a crack-head straight outta Compton, as long as he was mature.

"...who will respect you for the bright young woman that you are, and you will think you're in love."

Love. What a sweet thing to expect from college. Of course I notice the "think" before the "you're in love." Parents always believe their child is too young for many things, no matter HOW old they are, whether it be grasping the concept of adultery, driving in storms and pre-storms, dodge ball, and yes, even love. (I'm sure their parents do it to them, too, just in different, more adult ways, like..."You're too young to be in debt!" or "You're too young to be tired of sex!" or "You're too young to be wearing that mu-mu!")

"And you will want to have sex with this young man."

WHOA-HO! Taking an unexpected turn HERE!

"And you should. Because sex is healthy."

So what I'm getting from this is that college leads to...healthy sex?

"You might do other things, too, like give blow-jobs..."

WHAT!? NO! I'm naive! I'm sheltered! The birds and the what? I don't even know! Because I'm naive! And sheltered! And please, tell me more!

In case you were curious, I'm not one of "those" who is awkward around their parents when talking about things like sex (probably because I'm still innocent. Maybe I should wait 'till I'm not and see how "comfortable" I feel then.) I don't know what Guide to Parenting MY parents read but it must have included a chapter on, "How To Tell Your Child Specific Details About Your Sex Life." And thank god it did! Look, you may think I'm just another little horndog, but there is LOGIC to this method, people. Look at the sluts and man-sluts of the world, and ask them if their parents were ever open to them about sex. NO, THEY WEREN'T. That's why they had to go out and do it all the time! Because they were curious. To them, sex was alien; sex was a mystery; to me, I feel as if I already know sex tips A to Z and a half, so why rush it? I know the procedure, the drill, the uh-uh-uh.

Of course you can't get advice from just a couple people about something as grand as COLLEGE. So I asked my sister.

"You have to be the most beautiful or you will never be happy."

How utterly depressing. But then again, she's only four. NOT that four-year-olds are depressing. They're great. I love them. Maybe I just shouldn't have gone to her for College Tips. Naming Your Turds Tips, yes, but not college tips.

My other sister says...

"You're taking me with you."

"This is college, not the Mayflower."(Thought I'd throw in a little historical allusion there. Hope you enjoyed it. It won't happen often.)

"You're taking me with you."

And she leaves. Hmmm. Interesting. Oh, wait, she's coming back now---

"Seriously. You're taking me with you."

And she's gone. Again. Hmmm. Interesting.

From what I've personally gathered about college expectations, girls seem to be mainly concerned with "The Freshmen 15," which could potentially lead to what my mother refers to as, "Cottage Cheese Thighs," and NO, that's NOT a chicken dish. Fellas on the other hand...who even knows, man. Hot chicks, probably. (No, that's not a chicken dish, either.) But before I start loading up on Ramen and waiting for Prince Mature to arrive, I've got to get into the bloody thing. (College, that is.) Apparently I'm supposed to FIND one, then fill out STUFF, then write SOMETHING. God why can't things just be SIMPLE. What is there even for me to write about? A life-changing moment? (Puberty?) A painful experience that I overcame? (Chicken pox?) Who my hero is? (Doc Brown?) I have this feeling that writing about my first lovely lady lumps and the Flux Capacitor will NOT get me into college. I remember the first time I was told what college is...

"It's the only school that you get to choose...ALL...BY...YOUR...SELF."

I also remember the state of awe I was in. That was back in the day when school was cool. (HOLD THE PHONE. SCHOOL IS STILL COOL.) (Just not as cool as it used to be, when we colored all day and had a different boyfriend every week without him even knowing.) And now I'm actually here. Preparing. Anticipating. Drooling. (it happens. and it happens to you, too.) And in a complete state of oblivion, for I have NO idea what to expect. (Besides man-boys and weight gain. LET'S HIGH-FIVE TO THAT ONE!) In the meantime, I plan to live it up. Last year of high school, man, have a blast! (A SAFE blast, of course.) Do it ALL! (All the LEGAL things, of course.) Because college will be here before I know it. Mature man-boys and pothead-professors, here I come!

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