Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. It runs weekly, on Fridays. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

October 9, 1998

So there I was, biking home from Ross Hall, setting a new standard in pedestrian slalom, when I realized I was winded from the ride and had to stop for a breather. Once inside The M-Shop, I grabbed a drink and a basket of popcorn and sat down to look at the Daily.

Skimming through the Quick Es, I felt like I had been thrown into a time warp and was reliving my freshman sociology class in the Curtiss lecture hall. Lining the left-hand side of the Opinion page was the technological equivalent of the lapboard graffiti I enjoyed so much back in the day; and a majority of it centered on the always-intelligent greeks vs. dorms debate.

Each side presented well-planned arguments. Dormies are boring. Frat guys drink a lot. Those living in the residence halls don’t get involved. The Greek system is full of snobs. No we’re not. Yes we do. Yeah, well you’re dumb.

It was as if every vandal from every large lecture hall had abandoned their pen knives and Sharpies and had gotten an e-mail account under [email protected] and written the first stereotypical thought or hasty generalization they could think of before they moved on to bigger and better things like forwarding Clinton jokes or earning $1,000 from Bill Gates.

So there I was, thinking about a few of those Clinton jokes, giggling to myself, when I remembered a frightening fact. I began my college career the same semester Bill was elected to office. Who would have thought I would be on my way back in just as he’s finding himself on the way out?

I think back to the last time I wrote down my thoughts on paper and I see an idealistic young man with job in hand preparing to flip the tassel on his little square hat in Hilton Coliseum after two solid weeks of graduation parties.

And life was good.

My parents embraced me. My friends congratulated me. My boss welcomed me. My co-workers spoiled me. My roommates applauded me. My health club inspired me.

Then I got bored and my life changed.

My parents wanted me to pay my bills. My boss wanted me to work late. My co-workers wanted me to pay attention. My health club wanted me to work out.

I guess I just got sick of a steady paycheck, regular hours and open weekends. I was missing something in life and that something would come with a price.

I would have to sacrifice my evenings, remember how to do homework, cram once again for midterms, go through touch-tone registration — all to assume the one role in life that I knew I could do well: the professional college student.

So I talked to my buddy Eddie, who never stopped being a college student and he called up his cousin Chet, who was moving back from Nebraska with his girlfriend Sydney, and she got on the phone with her best friend Melissa, who has a couple years left at ISU, and we all decided to rent a house and cohabitate.

Our own “Party of Five,” so to speak.

So far it’s been more like “Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place,” except with an extra guy, an additional girl, subtract the pizza joint and throw in a lot more humor.

I’m not really sure what stereotypes a witty e-mailer or creative graffiti artist could come up with about our house of sin, but since I’ve lived in the residence halls, the greek system and the basement of an old motel, I figure I must embody every characteristic that has been brought up in the verbal civil war.

Let’s see, that would mean that I’m boring, I drink a lot, I don’t get involved and I’m a snob. Oh yeah, and I’m dumb.

Yep, that’s my life in a nutshell. A stuck-up couch potato with a beer in my hand.

It’s good to be simple.