Monday, November 11, 1996
UNLUCKY:
When life kicks you one in the butt, just crawl back into
bed
Last Monday I had one of those days. You know the kind I’m
talking about  I took a midterm with a raging cold and spent
more time blowing my nose into soggy tissues than I did writing. I
came home to take a nap, but the phone kept ringing … I wish life
could be full of sparkles and happiness, but that doesn’t always
happen, and this column is dedicated to everyone who has ever said
"I had the worst day today."
You know you are having a bad day when you fall asleep in class
and start drooling. OR your head flops over to rest on the shoulder
of the anal-retentive student who is tape-recording lecture, taking
notes, and raising their hand at every question posed by the
professor, rhetorical or not.
You know you are having a bad day when you walk by the hot
person you got together with at a party the night before and they
don’t even acknowledge your existence. Maybe he/she simply didn’t
see you and wasn’t being rude on purpose … yeah right.
You know you are having a bad day when you are sitting out on
Bruin Walk in hope of meeting someone you know, but not even the
squirrels will join you for lunch.
You know you are having a bad day when you go to check your
score on your midterm and realize that you forgot to write your
student identification number on the exam, thus voiding your
existence and the fact that you labored for two hours taking the
midterm like everyone else in the class. OR you check your score
and realize that you received a big fat F, while your next door
neighbor, who did none of the reading and borrowed your notes, came
away with a passing grade.
You know you are having a bad day when the only people that
smile and whistle at you are the construction workers on campus. OR
when you are stumbling to class half-asleep and/or hungover in the
morning, and you realize that new construction has appeared
overnight, forcing you to find a new route to class.
You know you are having a bad day when you have to relieve
yourself on campus and you realize that UCLA doesn’t care enough
about its students to have the decency to provide two-ply toilet
paper in any of the bathrooms on campus. As an added slap in the
face, they make sure that the crappy toilet paper they do buy rips
after you unroll three, maybe only two if you’re really having a
bad day, squares of unabsorbent white tissue paper that is sure to
leave your ass on fire from irritation.
You know you are having a bad day when you have been on campus
all day long, and there are no messages on your machine when you
get home.
You know you are having a bad day when you start reflecting on
how many months it has been since you’ve had sex. Like every other
student at UCLA, you want to get laid, but you don’t know where to
find that attractive casual sex partner who is as horny as you are.
The Daily Bruin should publish a personals section, where students
can anonymously publish "SWF seeks virile stud for afternoon
delights followed by hot and steamy nights."
You know you are having a bad day when you call your parents for
some moral support and your mom asks if she can call you back
because she’s on the other line. Then she forgets to call you
back.
You know you are having a bad day when you call URSA to vent
your frustrations with the bureaucracy here at UCLA. You ask "It"
why the Communication Studies department is so competitive, and the
nasal androgynous voice tells you about how it is a small
department and can only accept so many students per year. You point
out the significant fact that as students, our registration fees
pay for such departments and classes, and that you’re pissed off at
the fact that you can’t major in something you want to major in.
You start telling it your plan to escape the senseless bureaucracy
at UCLA by graduating in two and a quarter years with a B.A. in
English to move on to graduate school where you can actually,
gasp!, study what you are interested in. Unfortunately, it
disconnects you in the middle of your brilliance; your 10 minutes
are up.
You know you are having a bad day when it’s Friday night in
Rieber Hall and a balding, snub-nosed R.A. writes you up for having
a few 12-packs of generic beer and confiscates them before you’ve
even had a chance to drink one. Leaving you practically in tears,
you have no choice but to whip out the stash of hard liquor and pot
to do some real partying.
You know you are having a bad day when you have to meet with the
R.D. for the aforementioned alcohol violation, and he tells you
that he considers three 12-packs of beer bulk alcohol because it
was enough to get the four people in the room drunk (OK, that would
be nine beers a person, and any student who knows how to drink
could pack away nine beers and still have room for at least another
six-pack). For the punishment he hands you, 20 hours of community
service, including a three-part class on alcohol abuse and a
five-page paper kissing ass and saying you will never violate the
alcohol policy again, you might as well have been smoking crack in
your room instead of sitting there watching TV with your friends
and three unopened 12-packs of beer.
This list could go on and on, but why depress ourselves? For
many Bruins, their idea of a bad day will pale in comparison to
some of these real-life scenarios experienced by myself and other
students. If you or someone you love is having one of those bad
days, don’t panic, help is within reach,. First, borrow somebody’s
jacket and go to Taco Bell. Discreetly slide a few tacos and
burritos into the pockets and walk out with someone who is actually
silly enough to pay for their food. Now that you have a tummy
filled with warm food, move on to a table on Bruin Walk and solicit
money for disabled children in Idaho, and then pocket the
contributions made by gullible people. There, don’t you feel better
already!?!
… you’re having a bad day when you call URSA to vent your
frustrations.