O Master of International Studies , I Need Your Wisdom

May 15, 2010 - I graduated from University of Undergraduate
May 24, 2010 - I began at the University of the Shining Star

As you can see, there was hardly anytime in between.

The summer was quite a gas, but the difference between uni in the summer and a full semester is quite polarized. I've been here for over two months. But not really. The grades count, but the experience did no justice to the legend.

Approaching the fall semester I was zealed with zeal. The Shameless one embarks into a new congregation of souls. Who knows about my mistakes? Who knows about my success? I'm just a new guy on campus.

In comparison the summer, there are more people. Opportunities. Events. Life. Community. Distractions. All of which are necessary to formulate realistic perspective.

However. And yes. However. It happened so fast. I was 23, an old fossil fart by undergraduate standards. I graduated. I'm 23, a baby by graduate standards. I'll be 24 next month. It doesn't matter. It's still weird.

It is a dance. A limbo of societies and mindsets, and I currently Vagabond between.

I'm like a father to the undergrads, and a punk prodigy to the "real" adults of the Master's program.

"You're still a baby. You don't know anything."

As I carouse the campus I become a social experiment. A new fish in the pond, looks like them, but smells of ancient scum. (animosities aside)

I can feel my heart reach out to the clusters, and even herds of beautiful freshman women. Parts of me long to play the reindeer games of adolescence, but then my facial hair stubble protrudes, razor bumps, responsibility grasp me with the claws of reality.

"Dude. You spent 5 years in undergraduate. You've done their dance. This is a new season."


My Legend Professor tells me he expects more of us as graduate students. To fill in the blanks of class discussions, and to certainly do higher quality work. An automatic star pupal. The Master amongst men is what's expected of me.

I can handle it. Not for the sake of being a douche bag, but because I want to learn and make good grades.

However, as I spy some of the most beautiful women I've seen in a long time out of the corner of my eye I can't help to think if my services will be needed.

"OO Master of International Studies, I need your wisdom. You wear a $500 dollar ring from your old uni, and you're smokin hott. Teach me the ways of the graduate student. I love you. Let's get married and stuff."


It won't happen quite like that, but I have been marked as different.At this point I don't know anymore about the assignments than anyone else, but it's of no consequence. No matter how beautiful, and even if I manage to pull a digit or two, I am not an undergraduate student. I account for half of the graduate population in my classes.

1+1= 2

2-1= Me/the other graduate student

I am surrounded with a buffet of food, and although I know how delicious it can be, my doctor has me on a special diet.