My head's about to explode. With the possible exception of Princeton, the pressure's more intense here than at any other college in New Jersey. Just look at my desk: books stacked as high as the Tower of Babel, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the Seattle Space Needle put together.
I love how they call it "reading period." What do they think I've been doing all semester? Here, read this text from Lenny: "Kickass party tonight at Jake's." Do you realize how much research I'm going to have to do? First of all, Jake who? What time? Where does he live? On or off-campus? Will I need wheels? Jesus, as if I don't have enough to do.
Then I've got the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. My frat wants me to do a Christmas porno with Denise. But I already made a Halloween porno with Heather. I feel like one of those guys in the National Guard doing a third tour of duty. Stop-gap or whatever it's called. Denise isn't even my body type (plays rugby).
Lenny says my Halloween porno actually helped Heather fulfill a Women's Studies requirement. Typical. Just the way actresses in adult films are well compensated while actors earn squat. If I even mentioned my appearance in "Jack O' Lanterns" to a prof., I'd be suspended.
You'd think the Duke lacrosse scandal would have shown how mistaken college administrators can be about frats, but no, we're still the bad guys. Get a load of this: "Roundtable on the Future of Fraternities." Smack in the middle of reading period. I wonder if there'll be beer.
And I'm supposed to be Secret Santa for somebody whose name I can't even pronounce. I complained to Simon, who told me, "He's the smartest kid in Pakistan." That really doesn't help me. They don't have Christmas in Pakistan so he won't appreciate my gift. Not that I'm going to get him one. Do I have the time to go shopping? I should buy something for Denise, though, if we're going to be working together. Speaking of which, I should also be at study group now. We're supposed to have read Dickens's Hard Times. Tell me about it: 574 pages with next to no margins. I haven't even lifted the thing.
Maybe if I arrive with beer at study group, I won't have to say much. Can I bring beer into that part of the library? Probably. This e-mail says we're meeting near the open stacks. To me that sounds like a "yes."
You know what I hate with a passion? Anthropology. I can't believe it's my major. My cousin told me not to choose my classes based on class times, but the chance to sleep in Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday was just too tempting. I don't think even Claude Lévi-Strauss would turn down a five-day weekend.
Now I've got to call Brendan, who I hear bought his term paper from the very company I recommended. In fact, it's rumored Brendan bought the same term paper I did. I don't want to turn nasty, but if I have to write an anonymous note to the Disciplinary Committee accusing him of plagiarism, I will.
One thing I will not be doing is moving the Dumpster from next to our frat to the far side of the parking lot. Why don't they just call me Ishmael and ask me to harpoon Moby Dick like the Old Man in the Sea? My frat brothers say the Dumpster stinks. Guess what? So do most of my frat brothers. I'll move the Dumpster if I don't have to make "Snow Globes" with Denise. And if someone drives me to Delaware for Christmas break. My notice has been downstairs on the ride board for six weeks and last night I heard Jerry Thurston offer the guy from Pakistan a lift to Wilmington. OK, dude, that's my Secret Santa present to you: my seat in Jerry Thurston's SmartCar.
Thank God my Poli Sci final's being offered on the honor system. Bingo! Of course they expect you to write more than you would if you were trapped in a classroom, but I'm willing to put in the time.
This I am not going to: a holiday dinner to benefit UNICEF. Great scheduling, folks. I've got an invite to this guy Jake's, study group, and I have to make a porno before Wednesday. Plus the dinner's vegetarian.
It's time for some textual relations: I'll see if Marcy wants to hook up at midnight. But it's 43° out: I'm not walking over to her place. I can't believe this: just like that, she said "no." "Y not?" I want to know. "Work." Tell me about it. This place is too extreme. I need to step back from the brink and chill out. I wonder what's on TV.
