Pardon me while I go full nude Ruminations on the next 33 days

To all my dedicated readers out there (Hi Mom), I have a special announcement: I am officially going to graduate from college. Yes I know this much was expected. After all, I am in the University Professors Program, which for those of you who don’t know, is an elite team of crime-fighting mutants hell-bent upon world domination. Again, taking this fact into account, my graduation was practically a shoe-in from the start. But you never know what can happen these days. One moment everything is all roses and bubble bath and the next thing you know you’re dead, purple and naked lying on the fifth floor of the library – you know the place where all the creepy old men go to masturbate about cats and dogs having sex with each other (or so I’ve been told). Anyway, the point is that I’m really excited about this whole graduation thing. Caps and gowns, speeches and high fives, caps and gowns – it all sounds like a big fluffy bundle of fun. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about whatsoever.

But an interesting thing happened to me last night: I found my old diary from freshman year. Wanting to rediscover my innermost thoughts at the dawn of my collegiate experience, I opened up that dirty little skank and started reading some of my original entries. (In saying this, I should note that I don’t really keep a diary. In fact I think diaries are for geeks, dweebs and little girls in pink frilly dresses. I should also note that by calling my fictional diary a “dirty little skank,” I am strictly referring to the diary’s brand name and not making derogatory remarks about the Tibetan women’s movement.)

Anyway, as I was saying, I opened up my diary and started to read:

Sept. 3, 2000: College is so cool. I’ve made so many new friends. Last night I stayed up late talking on my floor. We ordered a pizza at like 3 a.m. and it was really awesome. And do you know what the best part was, my parents weren’t even there to tell me to go to sleep. This place is so much fun!!!!!

Oct. 23, 2000: Last night was so much fun. My friends and I hung out in my room and mixed rum and Diet Snapple. Then we went out to a bar and used our fake IDs. It was so great. The bouncers let us in and we drank beer. It tasted bad but I drank it anyway. Oh and I met this girl and we went back to her apartment and had sex. It was so much fun. College is so cool.

Dec. 5, 2000: My roommate is kind of creeping me out. I mean we got along pretty well at first, but then he started doing really weird things. He constantly washes his hands because he thinks they smell like his mom. And the other night, I think he was watching me sleep. Bizarre right? I think I should move out.

Um. Wow. All right um … I guess that well um. Yeah. Yeah cool stuff man, cool stuff. Those were the times, right? Yeah I’m just a sucker for nostalgia, a slave to the good ol’ days (insert nervous laughter here).

Hey but in all seriousness, things got better right? Look how far we’ve come, look at the skills we’ve learned. We’ve all grown-up and matured. We’ve all shed our adolescent tendencies and set out onto the neatly paved road toward success. I mean hell, take me for example. I finished my thesis. I’m graduating with honors. I got over my chronic fear of clowns. Everything is really looking up. The world is mine for the taking. Bring on Wall Street. Bring on Washington. Bring on Pluto. I’m going to sell those stocks and trade those bonds. I’m going to build a giant skyscraper that climbs into the sky. I’m going to spin thread into gold and mold a bronze sculpture from the dirt on the ground and the ashes in the air. I’m going to rearrange the stars and spell my name in sky. Yes indeed, just 33 more days till freedom and I can’t wait to break the chains. Gee I sure am ready for all of this.

I do have on question though: Can somebody tell me why my hands keep trembling?