(Each Fall an army of eighteen-year-old "adults" floods USF, expecting to finally set foot in the long prophesied "real world." They soon discover that college, and the real world, are whatever these freshmen make of them. In constructing their identities, most are required to take a basic writing course. Creative Loafing has chosen four of those students to blog for the Daily Loaf.)
About once every month, there is a funk in the air that leads to me making some piss-poor decisions. Last month, my moment of weakness involved (oh my God, Im actually about to admit this) Miley Cyrus.
I was driving home, listening to the radio, which is unusual because Im usually jamming out to Sunday in the Park with George on XM Satellite Radio. But, by chance, my car had just gotten a tune up and I removed the XM so it wouldnt get snatched. Years ago, after I had a Donkey Kong Happy Meal toy stolen by a valet driver, I learned to remove every valuable from my car before handing it over to a stranger. So, I was listening to the radio and one of Cyrus songs, whose name I will not mention, came on. I reached for the volume knob to turn the song off, but instead I made a horrible, inexplicable mistake: I turned the volume up and listened to that whole damn song. And yes, I sang my heart out...