"Relax, these are the good years"

"Ah mannaggia."

This is the phrase that can normally be heard from my bedroom at two in the afternoon when I have finally motivated myself to get out of bed and grab the Advil.

The word means "dammit" in Italian and expresses rage. My meaning of the word is "dammit, I had a hell of a night."

And why shouldn't I?

I am in college and am 25 years old and to be honest, I really don't think I am going to make it to 55. I like to booze and after many attempts cannot stop smoking cigarettes.

This week we began a semester of what some consider a journey to the end. Currently seniors are preparing to enter the real world and get what some refer to as "adult jobs."

Some of the freshmen are starting the semester with the ambition to raise their average to a 2.0, unless things have changed since my freshman era.

If you were to ask most upperclassman if they could go back to freshmen year, many would say yes they would. I unfortunately never got to experience the freshman year at UB, as I transferred from a community college in Rochester.

But for the past two years I have enjoyed what one of my roommates calls the real golden years. I like to call them the drunken years.

This week I have been bombarded with syllabi, and the most stressful thing I have had to ponder is where to sit in my five hundred-person lecture hall.

I personally prefer any seat next to an attractive female, as after extensive research I find that I get better grades, and actually want to go to class.

While making my way around campus this week I have overheard people whining about their classes and how much work they have.

"This semester is horrible!" I heard a girl say as she walked out of the Union.

It's the first week of classes and people are already running to the drugstore to get caffeine pills so they can make it through the night.

Put down the bottle of pills.

Chill out.

Before entering college almost three years ago I was overseas in the United States Army in a little firebase on the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan. There were no booze, no women and no entertainment.

Everyday for the ten months overseas I sat in a guard tower for eight hours, thinking about the fun I would have when I returned home. I thought about every good time I had before joining the Army and realized that I had lived a sheltered life.

I left the Army after being hurt overseas that year and was determined more than anyone else to enjoy the opportunities I received everyday.

I got out of the military with over $16,000 in my bank account, knowing that I would spend every cent of it partying in college.

I know you're thinking, "is this kid crazy?"

Not at all, because I believe that there are a lot of students that take things way too seriously and need to learn to enjoy these college years, because they are not going to last forever. Plus, unless you're Ms. Cleo, you can't predict the future and what it holds.

That money that I saved did go to partying like I thought it would. There are many bars in the Rochester and Buffalo reaping the benefits of me wanting to enjoy life and booze.

There are also many girls whose names I don't remember, but who really enjoyed me at the bar because I was like Santa Claus when giving away shots. I remember I once bought fifty shots at the IB in Geneseo.

My friends will tell you I'm the guy that will buy drinks but come up short on the electric bill.

"I can't make it out because I have to get up early and I have a lot of work."

I heard this twice this past week, even though it is the first week of classes. I feel like there are students on this campus that need to lighten up and enjoy what entertainment and freedom we have.

The moral of the story:

These are the Golden Years, so stop stressing and wake up. Start enjoying life because you only get one shot at it.