Welcome to College
By: KK

Copyright @2002

Now that the cancer thing has been put on the "just monitor it" back burner, I have decided to go back to college and finish my degree in Criminal Justice. Why waste precious time? With a pending divorce and the lack of desire to return to stripping, I actually want to do something that I really enjoy. Criminal Investigating. Little did I know that college was going to offer me such an abundance of stories. It is only my first week back and I am highly amused!

One of my initial fears is the fact that I will be 35 in a couple of weeks and I will be attending school with barely pubescent high school graduates. I was a wee bit nervous. Were they going to think that I was one of the instructors, call me Mom or call for a wheelchair for the old lady in class? During registration my first fear was calmed a bit by the fact that I actually saw one or two other "older people". You know, senior citizens like me. When classes started on Monday, my fear was confirmed. The other two senior citizens that I saw were not in any of my classes. As I sat in the back row of my first class I watched the students roll in. Actually, I felt the hormones vibrate through the tile and up and over my pint sized desk. I'm not intimidated by much. But, a class of 40 horny teenagers really rocked my world.

My second fear was the fact that I am still recovering from chemo-therapy and my hair is just starting to grow back. It's about a 1/4" long now. But it is still not ready for "public viewing". I wear my hat and bandana, because of course I wouldn't want to distract the class with my Pamela Anderson wig and tits. The tits are distracting enough. I am normally incredibly confident and admit that I relish in fact that I still have a nice body, an attractive face and as of last April had hair that people would turn a head or two towards my direction. Now I'm fucking bald and although I'm still comfortable with my overall looks, the baring of the scalp part is really stepping on my ego. Little did I know that my classmates could out-do the Sinead O'Conner look that I was now sporting.

Let's begin with the female population of my college. Can we all say "B-O-O-T-Y-L-I-C-I-O-U-S"?? For lack of a better term...bootylicious was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw these beautiful young girls. No, I'm not gay. The 70's era mixed with J-Ho (I mean J-Lo, a.k.a. Jennifer Lopez) has caused a tragic accident in the fashion world of the year 2002. The wreck, I'm sure, has happened in colleges all across the country, but I as a senior citizen, was initially taken back by the fashion trends at my school. Before I go any further, let me remind you that I went to high school in the 80's (frightening, yes, but not half as frightening as the 70's rearing it's ugly trends again). Hip-huggers are the obvious fashion choice now. I have no problem with hip-huggers, except when they are bell bottom, and hanging around the girls knees. Those are knee-huggers. These hip-huggers are accessorized with a 6" wide belt, belly baring tank tops and beer belly's to accentuate the belly button rings that cannot be seen through the layers of fat. I am happy to see that we are out of the "anorexia/bulimic era". But these girls are down right unhealthy. They were born with cheeseburgers between their lips and pancakes between their ass cheeks. The 70's was a frightening era and it doesn't stop with the girls.

I swear I saw Barry Manilow walking down the hallway yesterday! Of course it could have been Greg Brady, but I was already in a state of flashbacks and couldn't be certain of anything at this point. This boy-child walked past me wearing a denim jacket, denim bell-bottom pants, a flared collared shirt and a blown out, feathered, aqua-netted bouffant hair-do! I felt completely out of place because I was the only one staring. Everyone else thought this was perfectly normal. I really thought I should have asked for his autograph. But, then I might have really embarrassed myself.

Afro-boy was neat. The halls are narrow and people line the hallways when waiting to enter a class. Afro-boy walked right down the center of that narrow hallway. There were several issues with Afro-boy. First his afro was parted down the middle, flattened to his ears and shaped into a wave that surpassed his shoulders by at least 2-3". People literally walked around the afro. Did I forget to mention that the afro was dyed a pretty shade of orangey-red? After I picked my eyes out of his afro, I realized that once again, I was the only one staring. Is staring not cool anymore??? I'm starting to have mixed feelings about my appearance. Is bald cool? Or should I invest in some knee-huggers and an afro? I think I'll stick to my anti-wrinkle cream.

Did you know that high school graduates have opinions? I didn't until I signed up for a Critical Thinking class. I was highly entertained by an underage, J-Ho that decided that her 1962 dictionary didn't give a definition for the word "truth". She refused to accept any definition for the word and pushed the professor to explain why "it really mattered". After listening, for over an hour, that since she couldn't find any definition for the word "truth", then that meant that it didn't exist, I was forced to put my .25 cents in (inflation and all...you know). I politely raised my hand and when the professor called on me, I spoke, (because that's what I do best)...

Me: "Honey, you weren't even a thought in 1962 and the fact that you refer to a
dictionary older than your caravan riding, hippie parents, shows that you lack
in the intelligence area. Since there wasn't a definition of "truth" in 1962, I
will refer you to the latest edition of Webster's which clearly defines truth
as.....blah, blah, blah."

I give her credit, because she has the balls to turn around from the front row, face me in the back row and ask,

"But, what does it really matter?"

I pulled out my dentures and tried to slit my wrists.

I have four classes full of hormonal, 70's wanna-be's. I have a 50-something World Literature professor that wears Birkenstock sandals to class. I have a Psychology teacher that is not even a teacher...he's an "Advanced Graduate". I have a Critical Thinking Professor that almost lost his job because some girl was offended by his stuttering (I'll deal with her opinionated bootylicious ass when I find her) . And, last but not least. I have a flying, on fire, 50-something dance professor, who twirls when he enters the room. Needless to say, I am highly entertained on a daily basis and only hope that people will eventually stop staring at me for being bald!! Good Lord...it's only cancer! It's not like I have an Afro and Birkenstocks or anything remotely hideous like that!!

Generation GAP is an understatement!! Alien's from the 70's are revisiting our planet and they are damn proud of it!