Illustration by Cody Angell

I sit here in the Wildcat newsroom weathering the tail end of a storm that was the production of this monster issue of the Campus Guide, the largest in a decade.

How odd; I'm also on the tail end of a hurricane that was my career at the University of Arizona.

Whether you're a bright-eyed, backpack-clad freshman or a fellow transfer student, my advice is to go into your time here at the UA with a game plan, a secondary game plan, and even a tertiary game plan. Most importantly, find something you love to do and stick with it. For me, I chose print journalism.

Now don't get me wrong. This isn't a promotion to come work for one of the largest college daily newspapers in the country; it's a plea to not get caught up in some of the secondary temptations that come with anyone's college years. You know what I mean: the liquid courage, stupefying pot, and cornucopia of other substances that Tucson is rich with, all at discount prices.

Arek Sarkissian II Editor in Chief

Sure, go out and have fun on the weekend, but don't lose sight of why you came here: to succeed in your endeavors.

For me, I stuck to the same ritual I had learned in high school until I finally realized what I wanted out of my degree. I pulled in mediocre grades, had a remedial job flipping rugs at a store in town, and I had a score of buddies who loved to indulge in all those hedonistic pleasures that life has to offer. But when the house of cards was blown down by my family, law enforcement, and my own maturity, I finally realized how far behind I was. I wasn't at the UA to plan parties, drink, use drugs, wake up and do it all over again. I was there to become someone who does something important in our society.

Albeit late, I finally opened my eyes. I started inquiring about this major that I had picked after taking a nice bong rip before my freshman year simply because I hated fiction writing. I was lucky, though. I found out how much I loved the tricks and trials that come with this cutthroat field. Interestingly enough, I experience the same euphoria from completing something meaningful as I once did from an hour of partying, minus the excruciating hangover. I owe that to reaching beyond the classroom for information. I did that by joining in the recommended "clubs and/or organizations" that I thought only nerds participated in.

Now it's been two years since the wheels that were my motivation to succeed in life began grinding. I now feel confident in trekking the road I need to take from the porch of the UA to the destination of what and who I want to be. I only wish that I had come to this epiphany a little sooner.

Take my father, for instance, an immigrant from Iran. He spent more than 20 years in school before he was finally allowed to practice medicine. My grandmother told me how he'd study for hours at a time, and how he'd also work in emergency rooms in New York City and Detroit for what I think was minimum wage (you medical residents know what I'm talking about). The result of his work was the exact profession he dreamed of when he was a teenager in the turbulent "Old Country." I thought of the whole "achieving my dreams" bit, but working for peanuts all for some stinking career? Yeah, right! By the way, don't ask about how much I'm making as Editor in Chief, but I'll gladly wash your windows for a few cents.

I, too, had my dreams when I was younger. I think for a time I even wanted to be a doctor, but one that stuck was to be an airline pilot. My father, however, had other ideas.

"You can do whatever you want. If you want to be a glorified bus driver, that's fine with me," he said.

"Or you can stick with writing," he said.

Come to think of it, maybe I should be mad at him. I could have made a great airline pilot, despite my less-than-stellar driving record.

I'm not blaming my father for my rocky career here; I'm blaming myself for viewing college and Tucson as a chance to cut loose and party. Perhaps there are some of you out there that have yet to explore yourselves on that level; I just would have been much better without it. The only thing I got out of the experience was a regular commitment to 12-step meetings.

I'll still attend the occasional party, and normally in a corner I'll see those who have started to explore the shady side of college life. I have to use all my power not to warn them, spill my beans about the DUI's, the rehab, the pain I caused my family, friends, now-ex-girlfriend, and of course, the jail time. I know everyone isn't like me. I can only tell them about how well I'm doing now that I stopped indulging. The path to my is now so much clearer, and tangible.

I'm not trying to make this sound like a Nancy Reagan-sponsored advertisement to "just say no" to drugs and alcohol. But the line drawn between having fun and screwing up your life is a fine one drawn with chalk on a windy day. After all, brief moments of pleasure from partying are far easier to attain than the years of dirty work.

I leave you with this: have all the fun you want. That's what college is for. Just remember, this is the time for you to realistically figure out what you want to do for the rest of your years on Earth. And remember, you can do anything you want; just be willing to accept the consequences.