LETS GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER
January 26, 2009 at 6:50 am (life) (alcohol, casino, celebrity, cheese, college, commumity college, germany, gin, Hansen, hanson, listerine, macomb community college, Michael, Michael Hansen, nazi, processed cheese, prozac, rum, so, SOCelebrity, taco bell, vodka)
My professor says during our first class, “Now, I am well aware the biggest complaint about coming to school here is that this is a commuter college. Nobody has the chance to get to know anybody.” I had, and still have, serious issue with this statement. Biggest complaint? Obviously she hasn’t reviewed my complaint file. The fact that nothing in the school has been up updated since 1977? Complaint. The fact that they chose brown and orange as the main color scheme of the building interiors? Complaint. The fact that this professor was wearing brown corduroy pant, a brown stripped suit jacket and brown suede boots? COMPLAINT! The fact that I don’t know the names of any of these morons sitting in the room next me? Couldn’t care less. Honestly, I could not care less.
I have no interest, no desire in fact, to know that Gale is a twenty-seven year old mother of four coming back to school to major in Sociology. Sociology? Yeah, okay good luck Gale but how does that change my life? What benefice does that offer to the development of my future intellect? None. Absolutely none.
Despite this, we are all forced into playing the “get to know each other game.” We have to play the game lest we should look like non-conformist. No, we don’t want that do we? No heaven forbid we look like non-conformist. That’s what college is all about, it’s not about finding yourself and education; it’s about learning you better damn well do what you’re told and like it or you will never get anywhere in life. This, this being the main reason I have gone nowhere in my twenty-three years of life on this planet. If you don’t play the “get to know each other game” you will look labeled a Nazi. It’s not written, but an unspoken fact of life. It’s during these times I always wish I had one of those suicide pills tucked away in my pocket. You know the ones they give potential prisoners of war ?The one to take lest they should meet some ungodly torture. Yes, that pill. I want it. I want two, one for backup, just incase the first one fails to do me in in a timely manner.
This getting to know each other game was by far the most bizarre I have met with in the whole of my college career. We had to “interview” other students in the room using personally invasive questions, then present what we learned about the other student to the class. You know, questions you would never ask a complete strange: “What was the name of your first love?” “Do you sometimes find yourself having an inconsistency in the texture of your stools?” “If you had to choose, hardcore girl on girl porn or softcore milfs?”
It’s so ridiculous; it’s things like this why I have so seriously considered going on the pill. Prozac seems to the only logical answer for numbing the agony and stupidity that encompasses so much of my daily life. I feel things like this, the get to know each other games that is, won’t bother me so severely when I’m packed full of pills. I have always believed in better living through chemistry.
There is a few things that have hindered me from going forward with my chemically enhanced life. On the one hand there is the life crippling, agonizing depression that has caused me to sleep though much of my twenty second and twenty third years of life on this planet. One the flip side we have my penchant for vodka. Rum. Gin. Listerine. I’ve done a great deal of reading up on the subject and it seems to be heavily advised that one not mix the two together. If I choose Prozac, I would have to give up the drink, and I feel that is the only thing keeping me alive at the moment. The exterior of my body is a complete mess, but I have taken great care to pickle my internal organs with liquor, thus preserving them for decades to come. And then still I have to wonder. I have to wonder if they advise not mixing the two because it poses any real health risks or if it is similar to the reasons they tell you not to mix pain killers and liquor: because they want to ruin your good time. Vodka on the rocks and a Lortab? Dinner is served.
Sometimes people will say to me, “Michael, don’t you think you share just a bit to much of your personal life on the internet?”
Here it is: I feel I am like a casino. We have all seen shows that go “on the inside” of casino security on the Learning Channel or Discovery Channel. We all think, “Wow, why are they blabbing all their security secrets on national television for everyone to see?” The fact of the matter, as we all know, is they are showing perhaps less than a tenth of the actual behind the scenes operations. They show us exactly what they want us to see. As do I allow you into my life seemingly unveiled, but everything you know one way or another is what I want you to know. And you know very little. Very little indeed. It’s important to keep some mystery about yourself otherwise people grow bored. It’s why they don’t post the ingredients on many of the items at Taco Bell. Full knowledge of something can transform it from delicious and tantalizing to hormone injected beef on a preservative laced tortilla jammed full of processed cancer cheese. I don’t want you to think of me as processed cancer cheese.
- Michael
