Spy Adult

First grade was the year of butterfly shirts, a perpetually messy desk, and pipe dreams of being a Spy Kid. When I watched Spy Kids, as an impressionable six-year-old, I thought I had found my calling. I was wooed by the fast-paced lifestyle; I was enthralled by the karate, the gadgets, and the fact that Carmen's hair was constantly blowing in a mysterious and cinematically pleasing breeze. I spent countless hours playing spy with my friends, making up missions to complete and finding hidden clues in the ivy that grew on the chain-link fence. At home, I would bare my teeth in the mirror and practice punching and kicking towards my reflection. As the years passed and the rosy glow of elementary school dimmed, I realized that I should look elsewhere for a career. College, though, is all about exploring your options. So, while I explore the option of being an English major and making absolutely no money in the future, I feel like I might as well entertain the option of being a super spy once again. After all, I'm highly qualified.

  

Diplomacy is an essential spy skill. You have to pretend to like people even if you think they are really annoying. I already have a lot of practice with this skill in real life. I've dealt with so many obnoxious people that by now, I'm an expert.

Ingenuity comes in handy when you need to make up an excuse on the spot for why you were reading someone else's files with a flashlight at 2:03 am. I am a highly skilled excuse-maker in my current position as a student, because I regularly come up with elaborate stories to tell myself and others about why I'm looking at Tumblr instead of doing my homework.

My diverse interests will allow me to act like an elite member of society with some and like a not-so-elite member of society with others. I have an intimate knowledge of the High Renaissance in Italy (lookin' at you, Leonardo), as well as a very committed relationship with America's Next Top Model. 

As a Master of Disguise, I am capable of blending in with my surroundings. If you enjoyed the picture of a worm above, then you will probably be flabbergasted and impressed to learn that that worm is me. My identity has been revealed. 



After writing this all down, I've come to realize that I really am a perfect candidate for clandestine operations. CIA, NASA, FBI, Obama: hit me up. I promise, my lips are sealed!

Midterms

Hiding from homework doesn't actually make it go away but I recommend it anyway. Did you know homework can't find you if you hide in your bed and pull up the covers all the way? Thought I should let you know.

Most high schoolers enter college woefully uninformed about some key things: getting enough sleep, doing laundry, and, most importantly, taking midterms. Future freshmen, allow me to make something abundantly clear for you now, so that you won't have to go through the psychological trauma of discovering it later: the college midterm season is not a hellish week, or even two weeks, of stress and sleeplessness. No, midterm season is an academic behemoth that drags on from the last week of September through mid-November. I want you to imagine a common garden slug, slimy and shell-less and pathetic. Now, enlarge that slug in your head until it's the size of a German Shepard. That monstrosity of a slug is midterms, and it's about to slime all over your little collegiate existence. You're welcome.

To cope with the stress and emotional upheaval of midterm season, many students turn to ice cream, binge watching Netflix, and good ol' denial. The list below includes some of the many lies we tell ourselves during this time of year.

1. "When midterms are over, I'll finally be able to relax!"
     False: When midterms are over, you'll finally be studying for finals.
2. "I took the AP in high school, so I'm good."
     False: Contrary to what the College Board would like you to believe, APs are still high school classes.
3. "This midterm is just a test with an inflated ego. I don't need to study that hard."
     False: Study.
4. "I'm going to fail this midterm and I'm going to fail this class."
     False: Even though you majorly messed up on this midterm (two standard deviations away from the average? Really??), there's still another midterm and a final left. You'll probably be able to salvage your grade.
5. "I did not cry in the fetal position afterwards."
     False: We've all done it.
6. "The curve will save me."
     False: Probably not.
7. "I studied enough."
     False: Okay this is just a blatant lie and you know it. Watching American Horror Story is not constructive when you're preparing for an Anthro midterm.
8. "The ritual sacrifice I performed three days ago will save my grade."
     False: You really are desperate.
9. "That midterm was horrible. My life is over."
     False: Your life isn't over, but this list is.

How to College

I met every single one of these people during Welcome Week and I still eat breakfast alone. (Shout out to Trader Joe's for the awesome Apple Cinnamon Oatmeal).

Welcome to college. You're moved in, you've started classes, and you think you have some friends (I mean, you eat dinner with them and that's all that matters). If there's one thing you've done five hundred times, it's have the typical "Introductory Conversation." This involves being grilled by some incoming freshman who is probably feeling just as lost as your are, but who is trying to cover it up by shoving their intellectual diversity down your throat. If I had a dollar for every conversation that came to "So, what's your major?" within the first minute and a half, I could buy Chancellor Dirk's mansion. College is a place where people are always asking you what you do. It's like everyone is following these steps for conversation from the Basic College Handbook.

Step 1: Say your name.

Step 2: Ask for the other person's name. Promptly forget it.

Step 3: Ask them what they're majoring in.

Step 4: Nod numbly and act like you care.

Step 5: Scramble and question your life choices as you attempt to tell them what you plan to do with your sorry existence.

Step 6: Bury your humiliation by reminding yourself that they're tuning out the sound of your voice anyway.

Step 7: Try desperately to seem interesting.

Step 8: Fail.

Step 9: Rinse, repeat.

Step 10: Give up and go get ice cream.

If you can follow these steps, I can almost guarantee that you'll find someone to eat with on the first night. If you'd don't follow the steps, chances are you'll have some awkward conversations, but you might actually make friends, not just acquaintances.

Llama luv

Found llamas on the corner today after class. What can I say? I go to Berkeley.

Llamas actually make better friends than humans do. Here are some reasons why.

1) Llamas are the perfect cuddle buddies. They're soft, gentle, and you are unlikely to develop feelings for them. If you do develop feelings for your llama friend, you should probably seek the help of a trained professional, because that's a situation too messed up to let you friends deal with.
2) If you need to practice braiding someone's hair and your friends can't sit still (or you just don't have friends), a llama would probably let you braid its fur. Probably.
3) Llamas are vegetarian, so you don't have to be.
4) If you're late to class, your llama might give you a ride. Do you have a human friend that would give you a piggy-back ride cross-campus? Didn't think so.
5) Llamas are the ultimate statement accessory. Everyone will be dying to know why you thought it was a good idea to tie the llama's harness around your waist.
6) Llamas make the best wingmen: fluffy, cute, and they won't flirt with your person of interest.
7) Llamas won't throw off your girl-guy ratio.
8) Llamas are #organic.
9) If you're playing hide and seek with some of your human friends, you could hide in your llama's fur and not be found for days.

I'm sure there are other reasons but I'm pretty tired and can't think of them right now so if you befriend a llama please let me know what I missed.



10) Everyone will be wondering why the hell you brought a llama to a party.