Mike was rooting through our files the other day and found our transcripts from Syracuse University. Of course, the first thing he did was compare GPAs and then do some white-boy dance when he found out his was .0002 higher. How mature. Yeah, sure, I would have done the same thing.
I still can't believe his GPA was higher. I was "advertising student of the year." (A joke, says Mike.) He spent more time in bed than class. His decision to go to SU was based on a dart board. I was not going to be outdone. "FIGURE OUT OUR GPAs WITHIN OUR MAJORS!" I screamed like a deranged lunatic.
But, we have short attention spans. We started reading the names of the courses we took. Holy crap. What a f'ing joke. I can't believe our parents didn't yank us the hell out of college and make us work at a gas station. Some of my favorites:
Weight training (mine)
Introduction to ceramics (mine)
Wine appreciation (mine)
Self defense for women (mine)
Cultural and mental disorders (mine)
Terrain analysis (his)
Volleyball (his)
The 1992 election (his)
Intermediate racquetball (his)
People and Culture of the Caribbean (his)
That last one gets a big WTF from me. Name one thing you learned from that class, Mike. He couldn't. Ya, mon. That's what I thought.
What's even more pathetic is that I almost didn't graduate college. It was second semester, senior year and I was failing Ceramics. I had made a replica of Maggie Simpson, complete with a pacifier, for my final project. Unfortunately, her head fell off at some point and she resembled a pile a shit. I begged the teacher to pass me. Somehow, we negotiated a "C+." The + was extremely generous. Meanwhile, my artsy roommate fashioned a bowl out of clay and put live fish in it for her final presentation. Son of a beeyach. I hate clay. Even playdough is a stretch. Too many bad memories.
Self defense for women was awesome. I'll never forget the day the instructor got this student (I'll call him "S") to dress up in pads and let the girls beat the shit out of him. "S" lived above me in the dorms and we hated him. He was a tool. We all took turns kicking him in the nads that day. Aside from every Friday happy hour at Sutter's, that could be one of my fondest memories. I wonder if "S" ever had kids?
2 comments:
So did Mike spend more time in bed sleeping, or .... ??
Sounds like maybe HazMat Pat and "S" could be related??
Ah, ceramics class. My high school ceramics teacher was this 80-year-old dude from Turkey. He was famous for telling his students, "You make bong, you get F." So we all made ashtrays instead.
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