No One Told Me I Took The Wrong Electives
When I was in high school there was a class elective called ï¿½Choices.ï¿½ It was a vague affair that everyone (except for me, I regret) took for the easy Aï¿½ a class designed to help you make a career decision, learn to put a condom on correctly, set a table for a dinner party, balance your checkbook, and otherwise become an upstanding citizen. It was designed to prevent teenage pregnancy by carrying around fake dolls that cried. (Irony goes to whole new levels when you watch the already-teen-mothers have to carry around dolls to algebra class. Are you kidding me?) It was designed to help you make REAL WORLD DECISIONS! This class was designed to make you everything your sixteen-year-old-ass wasnï¿½t.
Teenagers are often faced with making tough decisions which can have lifetime effects. Through the application of critical thinking skills, reasoning skills, and problem solacing abilities, students will develop the skills to make decisions that they hopefully will never have to look back on with regret. Making a decision brings with it the need to accept and handle the responsibilities of that decision. Choices will investigate timely issues such as group and family dynamics, establishing friendships, positive peer pressures, conflict resolution, dating relationships, human reproduction, stress and time management as well as dealing with the pressures of grades, working and going to school, drugs and alcohol, body perceptions and eating disorders, and negative peer pressure.
I think every public school probably has a class like this. What I wish is a class that covered adult ï¿½choicesï¿½ that were more real-life, and bound to happen in your mid-twenties. The daily choices in adult life arenï¿½t black and white. My pets, take heed: this ï¿½Choicesï¿½ class in the Loudoun County School System is lying to you.
Welcome to my ï¿½Choices,ï¿½ twenty-something style.
WILL FRIENDS PEER PRESSURE ME INTO DRINKING OR DRUGS? (no pressure, youï¿½ll eventually end up drinking by yourself watching the Game Show Network or ï¿½The Brady Bunch Gets Marriedï¿½, and thinking of new mixed drink creations with names like The Good Ship S.S. Puk-en-stuph, The Notorious D.R.I.N.K., and The Ex-Girlfriend. Also, you canï¿½t afford drugs because your cell phone bill was pretty high this past month and you have, like, 15 wedding gifts to buy this summer.)
WILL I HAVE SEX WITH HIM OH MY GOD HEï¿½S SO CUTE BUT ITï¿½S SO WRONG BUT AT LEAST I KNOW HOW TO PUT A CONDOM ON!!! (of course you will. It wonï¿½t be that good either, and then the next day heï¿½ll eat all your roommateï¿½s Pop Tarts, leave his smelly teeshirt behind, and then ignore you at happy hour the next Friday. And, heï¿½s in no mood to get all ï¿½committedï¿½ anyway because every woman his age is just trying to get their paws on his dot.com stock options, the ones he cashed out on before they completely floundered. Greedy bitches.)
MY GRADES ARE BAD. WHAT SHOULD I DO? HOW CAN I FIX THIS? (Welcome to the real world. There are no grades. This is why you can surf internet porn all day and not worry about your parents yanking your tuition.)
WHAT COLLEGES SHOULD I APPLY TO? (College is OVER dude. Face it. Move on. Anyways, did it really, really, really matter? You didnï¿½t attend any classes that donï¿½t have good looking TAs, you didnï¿½t shower for days on end, and you didnï¿½t really learn much of anything except how to steal beer steins from your favorite dive student bar and what pizza places are open at 3 am. Also, the degree you received did get you a job, probably in data processing even though you thought international studies would land you an immediate position in the Presidentï¿½s Advisory Council.)
WHAT KIND OF JOB WILL I HAVE? (Again, data processing. Or, computers. The future is now. Your schoolï¿½s English department will only shrug and point you towards open low-paying teaching jobs, so this is your best bet. Remember how you were sleeping with that chick from the Young Democrats and how you went to the IMF protests and got gassed? Yeah, that was rad. But now youï¿½ll work for a government contractor who builds missiles and satellite parts, and maybe theyï¿½ll make you edit manuals or something. And youï¿½ll live in your cookie-cutter apartment complex called ï¿½Forest Glen River Towneï¿½ or something and youï¿½ll wear plaid shirts and you wonï¿½t be allowed to dye your hair, even though secretly youï¿½ll still keep the ï¿½Free Tibetï¿½ pins on the inside flap of your messenger bag to make yourself feel better. Free Tibet with purchase of first Tibet at full price.)
GROUP AND FAMILY DYNAMICS (As soon as you found decent rent and loaded up your Honda with all your shit, your Mother promptly turned your room into the ï¿½library,ï¿½ painted the walls light pink and bought a assload worth of antiques with what they had previously been spending on your tuition. Also, she calls every once and a while to see when you will be coming by to pick up your shotglass collection, which is in the way. As far as group dynamics are concerned, the Database Administrator is all pissed off at Mark in Accounting who put something up on an incorrect server without permission, and Mark thusly drops by your office every five minutes to complain about what ï¿½a serious toolï¿½ the Database Administrator is being. Your girlfriend/boyfriend either is in a big hurry to get married or gets a panicked look on their face every time the subject comes up. Also, your annual review is coming up.)
STRESS MANAGEMENT (I had friends in college that made shots called ï¿½Snake Bites.ï¿½ They are the best thing ever. ï¿½ Yukon Jack and ï¿½ lime juice. After you down it, it is required that you make a hissing sound.)
UNPLANNED PREGNANCY (You still live on food that comes in boxes, or your dinner specialty: A handful of Fat-free Wheat Thins, a bowl of cereal, and a pint of Ben and Jerrys. You can barely remember to take your contacts out at night, let alone care for another human being. Still, your best friend from high school is married, owns a few homes, and has a child. Although you arenï¿½t ready for this, you call your friends crying once a week to tell them ï¿½if I decide to move into that attic apartment and then buy a cat, just please shoot me. Especially if I start dressing the cat up in sweaters.ï¿½)
ESTABLISHING FRIENDSHIPS (Everyone is dating someone. Everyone works shit hours and lives scattered across the area, if not the country. Wasnï¿½t your life supposed to be like fucking ï¿½Friendsï¿½ by now?)
TIME MANAGEMENT (It is perfectly acceptable, since your overslept, to wear that flannel cowboy shirt into the office. Iï¿½m sure no one really noticed.)
CONFLICT RESOLUTION (Your roommate won’t stop banging that chick he met at his cousin’s wedding at your place, so playing Black Flag at an unholy decibel level and screaming like a cat in heat to cover their groans is a fab idea. Itï¿½s all about the Passive-Aggressiveness.)
I have, yes, been in kind of a funk lately.