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.

April 25, 1997

So there I was, enjoying some good, clean family fun at Taste of Veishea with Monica and her family, when her dad brings up graduation and any future plans I may have.

For a fleeting instant, I contemplated telling him I was going to move to Peculiar, Missouri, to become a heavy-drinking shepherd, and support his daughter and our future grandchildren by entering every contest I could find in candy wrappers, pop cans, and pizza boxes while earning extra income by selling my body on street corners.

What came out instead was, “I’m not quite sure, sir. Still looking.”

I’m so worthless and weak.

Then her little brother Shaggy (not the name given to him by his parents, but I’ll be damned if I can ever remember what it really is) asks me if I’m looking forward to graduating.

Kids these days.

Shaggy will be a freshman here next year, so he still thinks the goal of college life is to get a diploma.

Oh, how I weep for the future.

So in an attempt to get me to show some positive leadership to their budding young offspring, Monica’s parents asked me if I had any advice for Shag. In an effort to avoid becoming a high school guidance counselor, I simpy told him to do what comes naturally and make sure he’s enjoying it.

Then his mom asked me to be specific.

She wants specific. I’ll give her specific.

Change your major two weeks into your first semester. Then change it again just because you can.

Smile at every person you pass on campus even if it’s a quirky little half-ass grin that tends to keep them wondering.

Go to every home football game, be at the parking lot by sunrise, stand for the entire game and wave at the pom squad every opportunity you get.

Learn to play an instrument, even if it is just a tambourine. The world needs auxiliary percussion.

Dive down a snowy hill in December with only a Hefty lawn and leaf bag to protect you from the elements of winter.

Get a fake.

Watch 12 hours of movies with your roommate’s cousin’s roommate and call it research.

Blow off studying for a midterm exam to help a friend celebrate his 21st birthday because either way you won’t remember a thing the next day.

Make up a new drink and name it after yourself.

Call her.

Learn all the words to “American Pie” and “End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine).”

Get a job at a bar tending drinks or playing music and it’ll make you feel like you’re being productive while you’re getting sloppysilly.

Do a naked cannonball into the Memorial Union fountain if it ever actually has water in it.

Comb your fingers through her hair as you lay there in the morning, slowly at first, in case it’s a bit snarled.

Gather around a keg in the parking lot of the hockey rink before a game. You never know, you may get into the game free.

Drive to Austin, Texas for the weekend on half an hour’s notice and be back in time for class on Monday, even if you have to wear the same clothes you’ve had on for three days and 2000 miles.

Take advantage of every opportunity to Campanile because you never know which chance will be your last.

After Campaniling, move on to other landmarks of ISU and make them a tradition as well, including, but not limited to, the zodiac, the fountain, Lake LaVerne, the terrace, your adviser’s office (when he’s not there), and the convenience store formerly known as QT.

Enroll in classes that broaden your knowledge like calligraphy, poetry, Theatre 106, weightlifting, and organic chemistry (pass/fail, that is).

Sing in a crowded elevator.

Hand over the keys if you’re out for the night or be prepared to become best friends with the Cy-Ride drivers and your lawyer.

Make your voice heard and stand up for something you believe in.

Take everything that comes at you with a grain of salt, a laugh and a beer and there’ll be a helluva lot less stress in your life.

Just do it and do it with a smile, and remember that the important things in life are good friends, good music, good times, and the rest will fall into place.

So there I was, feeling like I had been just a bit too specific when I patted Shaggy on the shoulder and reassured him that despite good intentions, a decent GPA and an extensive shot glass collection, I am not a role model. I just play one on TV.