It’s my third year in college and I still don’t know how to make myself sit down and study for my difficult classes. I find that I spend the four hours I reserved for learning doing anything else. At least my apartment is clean and well-decorated. You seem like a gentleman and a scholar, please tell me how I can overcome my stubborn avoidance without drug dependence?
-Academic Dish Doer
Well, ADD, if you’re really hoping to reform your study habits, you still shouldn’t completely discredit how you currently use your time. On the bright side, you’ve chosen the moderately efficient, big-kid task of cleaning your living space to avoid your studies. Many of us fall into the rut of becoming slaves to much more menial activities. This could include scanning Facebook albums for unrealistically fat-looking photos of friends, investigating a YouTube timeline of the work of Soulja Boy, or perhaps just laying around drinking on an empty stomach. In short, you are on the right track.
What I’ve found to be an important factor in completing my work is the integration of personal rewards throughout a night of studying. For example, two pages of writing earns me the divine privilege of one episode of The Wire (with roughly 15 minutes of wiggle room to catch up on overly ambitious, religiously-inspired young marriages on Facebook). In light of your current preferred use of time, I would suggest different forms of custodial rewards. Three chapters read would earn you, say, a perfectly white, stain-free toilet or a fridge that doesn’t smell like booty butter. Essentially, it’s just important to maintain checkpoints and goals for yourself, even throughout a single night. In addition, even though you’re hoping to avoid this route, I recently heard that one tablet of Excedrin is equal to like, three cups of coffee, dawg. More on this after midterms.
Dear Gingerbeard,
What do you think about the possibility of life on other planets? And what do you think will happen on December 21st, 2012? I heard some crazy funky shit.
-Pretty Eyes
Well, Pretty Eyes, my illustrious predecessor, I had a suspicion that there would be a question of this nature in this edition of the Oregon Voice. The 2012 New Years Eve party scene was a bitter-sweet occasion for many, including the Voice staff. Without pointing fingers, I will say that even some Top Dawgs here at the Voice have been on edge, finding themselves slipping into conversations reminiscent of those you might hear from unstable locals at the downtown bus station or the alley outside Minit Mart. You know, topics like planetary alignment chaos, solar storms, intergalactic bee extermination, and the ever-present and left-wing nonsense that “science” refers to as “global warming.” Though I myself will not settle on one specific date or process of Earth’s demise, I will say that I hope (fingers crossed), that extra-terrestrials and the violent destruction of humanity are intrinsically related. Maybe I’ve seen Alien vs. Predator a few too many times, Pretty Eyes, but the idea of aliens chillin’ with Latin America’s indigenous people in the past really warms my heart. If our intergalactic babysitters think we need a permanent time-out, then so be it.
Dear Gingerbeard,
Your volunteer occupation as an advice columnist will end as soon as you graduate. What will you do then? Tell me.
-Gingerbeard’s Red-haired Advice is Doomed
Although this question was meant as a personal one, I feel that it pertains to many students at the University of Oregon, dutifully trudging through their last one or two years of classes to earn a bright, shining, deceivingly useless liberal arts degree. Therefore, GRAD, this question provides an excellent space for a discussion of the options for Duck alumni shortly after graduation.
The first, most non-committal option is that of achieving the official rank of Townie. Not only would I have the ability to stay in Eugene’s culturally rich environment and party with younger, less pathetic friends, but I would also have the right to describe my undergrad major using past-tense, nostalgic language at all of my favorite local haunts when approached by strangers. Also, each fall would bestow upon me a slew of naïve California freshmen.
The next, most sensible post-college lifestyle lies in the confines of Portland. A liberal arts major’s wet dream, Portland offers a myriad of options for me to waste my time and defer loans. Perhaps the highest rank one could achieve here is the status of “Portland famous.” Beginning with a cashier position at, perhaps, Elephant’s Delicatessen, an ambitious and lucky twenty-something like myself might soon find great pleasure in being the guy everyone on the whole east-side knows as “that Stumptown barista who wears a boy scout uniform to shows.” Oh, and I could own a motorcycle.
Finally, I could always apply ahead of time for internships and volunteer opportunities that make myself more competitive for grad school, but… Meh.
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