2.26

Dear Graduating Seniors,

Well, it looks like your sentence is up. Through some act of an apparently not-so-callous God (who knew?) or bureaucratic loophole (that will almost certainly be fixed, posthaste), you've managed to make it out of here relatively alive.

I can only assume (desperately hope) it'll get better from here. I can see so many possibilities! Successful business careers and early, merciful suicides. Perennial unemployment, multiple pregnancies and multipled mullets. Crippling debt, insufficiently ventilated cardboard boxes, and the gradual realization that when you sell out, someone will actually pay you money.

Or maybe you're going to grad school, presumably because you didn't learn your lesson the first seventeen years. Ah well. Some of us are slower than others (in fact, some of us humanities peoples are actually going backwards, if the scientists are to be believed… which, of course, they're not).

But we've had some good times, haven't we? Remember that time I was, like, "Hey, I don't know you people" and you guys were all "Yep?" That was great…

Of course, some of you were like "Um… Dylan? We know you, we just don't, like, acknowledge it. Careers to think of, you understand." And I was like, "Hitler was the best!" I always loved to be supportive...

I'll miss you guys, ya know? You were around for some real formative years, when I needed all kinds of support and well-wishes, benevolent guides to foster my budding optimism and reinforce my universal positive regard for humanity. I always appreciated that kind of devout reciprocity.

It's sad, though. I mean, I'm most likely never going to see you people again. Sure, we might bump into each other at, like, the Wal-Mart ten years from now, make awkward small talk, and then pretend to get a phone call from our imaginary spouses that we really have to take, like right now, but let's have lunch in, like, yeah, bye! If only "like, yeah, bye" had vegetarian entrees… but that's life!

We'll always have football, right? Remember, my freshman year, when we lost to Vanderbilt? Yeah… So much property damage… Or my sophomore year, when we lost to Florida? Well, I guess that's been pretty much every year since we got here. Sorry about that! No hard feelings, right? Hey, we dramatically came back to break LSU's heart that one time, right after their state was devastated by Hurricane Katrina! Remember? Burnt a mattress and everything. You guys always did keep it classy…

Come to think of it, you guys won’t see each other again, either. All those friends you’ve made, who’ve been like family to you the past four years? Who’ve laundered your money, soaked up your tears, made voodoo dolls out of your exes? Gone! All gone…

So… yeah. Have I made you feel bad enough yet? Bad enough to stay, oh, another year of so? Fifth year seniors are all the craze! The administration says no, but the bank account says, “Yeah, I’m pretty much with the administration on this one.” Er. Did I mention we’re in a recession? What better way to avoid the crushing defeat of losing or not finding the job you just worked years and spent thousands for than to stay within the warm, isolated, costly embrace of academia? After all, if there’s one thing college has taught us, it’s definitely procrastination.

I mean, if you go, you know what happens? They’re coming for me next! I’m too young to mortgage! I’ll have to be all… old and stuff. I’ll have to start berating dadgum whippersnappers instead of including a derisive “OLD MAN” after every foolishly supercilious statement. That’s a change in diction I’m just not ready to make!

I guess what I’m trying to say is… pleeaaassseee stay? Pretty please? Oh come on, just do it for old time’s sake. Just this once! Please? Or better yet…

TAKE ME WITH YOU!