Jan 242012
 
Authors: Morgan Mayo

Let me sum up my freshman year of college for you.

Foam parties, cocktails for breakfast in the dining hall, jumping/falling out of my neighbor’s window after accidentally setting off her fire alarm, hitchhiking wearing only rucksacks, going to bars dressed as various slutty woodland creatures, getting kicked out of bars for falling asleep on tables, systematically making out with every single guy in my friend group, running half-naked through the garden behind the local retirement home. Vodka.

Yep, I’d say the word “shameless” is a pretty accurate summation of my 18- (and 20-) year-old- self.

But sadly there comes a day in every college kid’s life when running down residential streets, squealing at the top of your lungs while your Irish flat-mate chases you shouting, “Hold onto your panties!” is suddenly considered not only painfully inappropriate, but also grossly immature.
The neighbor you once saw get kicked out of a bar for getting motor-boated in the corner is suddenly judging you for your walks of shame.

The two boys who used to climb in your dorm window in the middle of the night to smoke hookah and make out with you and your roommate now pass you in the Union holding some future soccer mom’s hand with a look of emasculated monogamy.

This bizarre burst of maturity tends to occur quite suddenly and usually around junior or senior year. Sufferers of this disease tend to be delusional and believe they are actually becoming mature adults.
Symptoms of mistaken maturity frequently manifest themselves in the following forms:
Frequent Dinner Parties: Twenty-year-olds suffering from delusional maturity often feel that they need to demonstrate their sudden domesticity by throwing a series of awkward dinner parties. During these parties, you will be forced to endure small talk about golf with people you barely know while stomaching overdone lamb. There will not be enough liquor or cleavage to make the evening bearable.

The Insatiable Need To Get a Dog: Although your freshman roommate couldn’t keep a fish alive, she will suddenly start talking about getting a dog because she likes “stability.” As if a furry bundle of joy will be enough to keep her from doing so many tequila shots on Thirsty Thursdays that she passes out in the bar and you have to pay her tab. She will probably ask to borrow money so that she can buy said dog.

The “We” Word: You know the disease has gotten serious when your friends start responding to invitations with the “we” word. The sufferers of college maturity deliriously cling to the thought that having a significant other adds a level of new found sophistry to their persona. Thus, when you ask your best friend Amy to go to a movie she will reply with, “We’d love to come.” Or at your birthday, your buddy Dave will say, “Here’s the gift we got you.”

When did couple presents become an acceptable birthday gift cop out? Cheapskates.
Blowing You Off: The final symptom occurs when the diseased person starts blowing you off for (insert domestic activity here). The friend who used to be down for spontaneous road trips and crashing parties you weren’t invited to will suddenly want to stay in at night and read, bake muffins or go to Bible study. At this point, the maturity is at a tertiary stage and irreversible.

This has been a National Health Advisory for all college-aged students. Maturity is a dangerous and highly contagious disease that can result in: loss of friends, loss of libido and better grades. Take precautions to safeguard yourself from this terrible affliction now.

We have the entirety of our post-college lives to be responsible, mature adults. Why waste the only days society gives us to be shameless? And while I have several friends currently suffering from an over-zealous maturity streak, it seems I’m immune. So lucky for you guys, I will always be around to report the trees I climb drunkenly and the Old Town fountains I swim in nakedly long after you cease to find it amusing.

Awkward times are ahead my friends. But until we meet again…
Cheers!

Morgan Mayo is a junior natural resources major. Her column appears Wednesdays in the Collegian. She can be reached at letters@collegian.com

 Posted by at 3:19 pm

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