I've had a glimpse of the real world, and boy is it scary.
To our MTV generation, "real world" is taken to mean one of two things: 1) that scary undeterminable expanse that confronts us after graduation, or 2) the supposed-reality show that airs every Wednesday night. I'll get to the first later, but now I'd rather tackle the second.
This season, MTV has seven strangers shacking up in Denver. You know a series is getting up in the years when they have to consider Denver as a major party city. I don't have anything against Colorado, but New York and San Francisco seemed a little more exciting.
Despite the lame-factor of its host city, this season so far has been one of my favorites since Las Vegas. As much as some intellectuals may look down on trash TV, I love it to the core. I love reality television for claiming there is any semblance of reality being portrayed, and I especially love making fun of the stupid -- and often drunken -- actions of complete strangers.
Possibly the best twist the Real World producers have cooked up this season is forcing Outward Bound to hire its seven strangers as guides who will eventually lead a group of teens affected by Hurricane Katrina into the Colorado wild.
Let's analyze that premise for a moment -- seven people who were expecting to live rent-free in a professionally decorated house, have free access to copious amounts of alcohol at all hours and wring out 15 seconds of fame are now being forced to make number two in the woods. (There was even an episode detailing how to correctly perform the former while following the Outward Bound motto "Leave no trace.")
Those of you who watch the show know some of the roommates haven't taken so well to their new job. In all fairness, I'm not sure I can blame them -- last season the group worked in a tanning salon, so I think it's a fairly safe bet when you're auditioning for the Real World to assume your job will be pretty cushy. Of course, the Key West kids had to clean up after a couple hurricanes. But other than that, they had it great.
That brings me to the other kind of real world, the kind that is fast approaching as May looms nearer. Those kids on MTV's "Real World" have it made as far as I'm concerned: They can live rent-free for six months while doing pretty much nothing and then go out in the world after their season is over and ... do nothing. I'm pretty sure the career path of most "Real World" alums is summed up in the phrase "hosted by T.J. Lavin."
Meanwhile, those of us who aren't stereotypical enough to be cast on "Real World" have to face the possibility of seeking gainful employment. I'm a religious studies and history major, which translates to "Do you want to super-size that?"
I'd like to interrupt myself here to say that by that last sentence I in no way meant to offend the millions of fast-food workers who wrote a letter of protest to K-Fed about his Super Bowl ad. I'm pretty sure even a sesame-seed bun has more skills than Fed-Ex. I would have been offended if he had compared himself to me, too.
Back to my point: My options after graduation are pretty much ... grad school. For the last month or so, people who have asked me what I'm doing after graduation have pretty much caught up with Commerce School kids on my "bad" list.
That's the second time in as many columns that I've expressed my hatred towards the Commerce School. It's not anything personal -- I have several close friends who have consulting and finance jobs lined up who will make more money in their first month out of school than I'll hope to make after 30 years of experience. I've accepted that and moved on. My only comfort is that I still have a soul, whereas those friends mentioned above sold theirs for a four-figure signing bonus.
Okay, yes, maybe I am a little bitter. Bitter that while I'll hopefully have a job I enjoy, I'll probably never make a lot of money. Bitter that four years of intellectual stimulation currently border on worthless. Mainly I'm bitter that those kids in Denver have a hot tub.
Laura's column runs bi-weekly on Thursdays. She can be reached at lsisk@cavalierdaily.com.