The 5 Worst Things About Going To A Party School


1. It’s not as much fun if you don’t get drunk as quickly as everyone else.

Let me prefix by saying I didn’t get a 4.5 and a 24000 on the SAT’s. I got a 3.9 and a 1960, so sure, I’m not the brainiac that has any ethos in this matter. After getting rejected from every UC except for UCI and UC Davis, I decided to throw shit into the fan and go to SDSU. Pretty soon I was drinking from ice-luges and playing another game of ‘Five Shots in Five Minutes’ — and loving every second of it. The problem? I couldn’t get drunk enough. It seemed like everyone could easily get to a point where they were able to discuss their inferiority complex and insecurity paradigm. This left me in an awkward spot, because obviously I’m not gonna be like, “Hey man, this is pretty heavy stuff,” but I felt guilty not giving them some advice I was reluctant to follow myself. 

2. Life was too much fun.

WTF, ‘life was too much fun’? Go jump off a cliff, Powers. I know, right? But seriously, after you stress out about a final for three days and lose yourself somewhere between “Party in the USA” and a plastic handle of vodka, you start to realize that this might actually be the best part of life. Obviously I told myself “Your best days are yet to come,” but there were so many times I started to doubt that Buddhist bullshit. (Siddhartha was a great read, don’t get me wrong.)

3. People are way too complex.

I signed up for this black-out to forget about life’s problems, not to try and explain them with fluency. I took those 8 shots in hopes I’d quiet my mind, yet everyone seems to take the opportunity to tell me about how ‘lost’ they are. Cool, bro. I’m at the same goddamn party, why do you expect I’ll have a better answer than your therapist? Mine can’t figure me out so I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to figure you out. 

4. FWB.

It sounds great on paper: someone who will have sex with you with no strings attached? Is that not the American Dream? I had a sexy-ass ex-swimmer FWB who would smoke me out, go to the pool with me, and screw my brains out. It was awesome, but then she’d get up and put her clothes on, 

“Thanks for that, I’m gonna go.” 

“Are you sure? ’It’s a queen. you can sleep here if you want.”

“That’s ok, I like sleeping in my own bed,”

“Oh, well, if you insist.”

I kinda wished she didn’t insist, I felt like I was nudging her out in some way, but I really wasn’t. Then I thought, “Holy shit, this is a small similarity of how women feel as fuck-buddies…”

Did I just get incepted? Is this some bullshit RomCom that ends with me internalizing a life lesson? I hope not. 

5. Everyone else is scared of blacking out.

I’ll never understand why some people feel the need to protect their ‘composure’ in a drinking scenario. Sure, alcohol might wash away your neocortex and reveal your true self, but still, who cares if you can’t remember eating that bean and cheese burrito? The point is you still had a great time; you laughed, hopefully didn’t break anything, and finally told that girl how you really felt. Stop looking at the cringes and start looking at the positives.