Well folks, that's it for the rest of the semester as well as the rest of my mostly unproductive and seldom acknowledged undergraduate career.
My stint at the newspaper was short, but not wholly unproductive. You may have seen the article I wrote, I think it had something to do with time travel, but that was a long time ago.
I have recently decided that my genius may go unnoticed during the span of my lifetime, so I've built up a stockpile of articles that I hope will be preserved for posterity by appearing in upcoming issues of The Wildcat. Although The Cat - as I like to call it - staff may find my writing mediocre and not suitable for printing, this issue is going to be a collector's item when I die.
When asked to reflect on my career at the University of Arizona, I don't even know what to say. I don't even know what I'm going to do now that I'm graduating, so I decided to turn my thoughts to using The Wildcat as a resource for advancing my future career.
Even if the editors didn't understand my artistic abilities and often confused me with the guy who takes out the trash, I still hold the paper dear to my heart and cherish the many life lessons and good friends that I didn't really pay attention to while I worked there. I only wish I could've stayed a couple more years and taken advantage of all the things that The Wildcat has to take advantage of. I found this Wildcat to do list under my dresser:
1. Smoke pot in the copy room
2. Make out in the copy room
3. Meet my childhood hero Sammy Hagar
4. Write an article that doesn't suck
5. Make out under the editors' desk
6. Streak through the sports section
Some of you might be asking yourselves why am I reading this? Or you might be asking, don't I have something more worthwhile that I should be doing?
It's to you that I say thanks. Thank you for being a part of The Wildcat family, because if there's one thing I've learned it's that the paper needs a family.
If you didn't read the paper, every arts and entertainment staff worker wouldn't have a place to go for the holidays or anyone to talk to on their day off. The Wildcat needs people like you and I, regardless of misunderstood sentence structures or sloppy personal hygiene. Arts writers aren't robots who type 80 WPM and eat paperclips. They need human compassion and real food just like everyone else.
If you don't feel anything as you glance at the names and (sometimes) faces of the people who bring you your entertainment news, then you are rejecting the world of entertainment itself. You're the fucking robot who doesn't care about all the box sets or independent films released this year. We don't need your kind.
Now that that's off my chest, I wish you the best of luck in the future Arizona Daily Wildcat and I hope you remember me (sigh). Maybe you can come and visit once I find my new post-graduate studio apartment and start my new minimum wage job. I just wish I had more time to get to know you (sniff) and I wish I had taken our relationship more seriously.
I'm no good at goodbyes.