The Real World: A Metaphorical Hypothesis

So it's really no question that I'm obsessing about what I'm going to do in exactly 29 days.  Unless the world really is going to end on May 21st, in which case I should just live it up while I still can.  I'm not really one to take my chances, though, so I think I'll keep sending out resumes at this point.

But thank goodness tonight I decided to go to Friday's with my buds and meet up with some high school friends Nick and Mike, the latter of which decided that he needed to educate us all about the real world, seeing as we were obviously unprepared to experience it.  Really, I'm glad that I got some preparation, because we weren't quite understanding the true gravity of the real world experience.  So, Mike decided to break it down for us.

What is the transition from college to the real world like then, you ask?

Why, it is equal to... a birth.

Now, stopping there may not seem like such a revolutionary concept.  But the analogy did not stop there.  You see, we emerge from the birth canal of college into the world, and we are attached to our placenta of student loans by an unbreakable umbilical cord (which actually doesn't make much sense because umbilical cord are cut, like immediately after birth.  But whatever).  And we spend 40 years "hacking away" at our student loan umbilical cord until, finally, we cut through it, in whatever state it finally ends up in.

Are you grossed out?  I hope so.  Because I definitely was.  And I didn't even give you the full details.

But all in all, Friday's (FRIDAY!  FRIDAY!  GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY!) turned out to be a much more eventful time than we originally planned.  And we even recorded a rendition of Rebecca Black's "Friday" on my camera, complete with commentary on the lyrics (YOU COULD HAVE PICKED ANY SEAT, REBECCA BLACK!  WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THE ABSOLUTE WORST ONE??), which will be posted ASAP, despite protests from Becks and Colleen.

Hey, after tonight... maybe moving home in May won't be so bad after all.

Oh but hey, if you're reading this and want to offer me a job in the city, uhm, please do.  Fridays at Friday's cannot be my future forever.

Love,
Courtney

Note: Mike, if you are reading this and making fun of it, the fact that you are reading it right now negates your judgment of this blog.  And if you're not reading it, well... we'll never know, will we now?