Your Student Activity Fees at Work!

I felt sort of like a jerk for mocking the US History guy yesterday since his dad died, so I'm skipping yesterday's "What Did We Learn Today" segment so I can feel a little better about myself.

So I'm going to tell you about the diligent workers at the Student Life Center instead.

The very first day of classes, I wandered in to the main building in search of a campus map.  I had spent about thirty minutes walking around campus trying to look purposeful while covertly searching for the building where my US History class would be held.  (As it turns out, the building is a lot like Platform 9-3/4.  It's tucked into a miniature forest.  It looks like a warehouse and you would never go there unless you absolutely had to.  The map was essential.  Otherwise, I'd probably still be roaming around campus, trying to bump into it magically using my luggage cart.)  Practicality prevailed, so I elbowed my way into the incredibly crowded main building to find that map.

When I got inside, the noise was absolutely overwhelming.  And it wasn't the usual noise of people talking and horsing around - it was drums.  BIG drums.  I'm no stranger to drums (Spike is an accomplished and professional drummer in his spare time), but these were large, ethnic, LOUD drums and somebody was beating on them.  Somebody else was singing and playing a ukelele.  Ladies clearly drafted from the business and counseling offices were all wearing leis, floral garland crowns in their hair and grass skirts tied on over their usual business attire.  They were randomly grabbing people and trying to get them to hula with them.  I sensed the danger and edged around the whole thing, frantically looking for something that looked like it might hold a map.  I actually had to shake off the grip of a lady from the testing center.  It was terrifying.  Crepe paper pineapples hung from anything that would stand still, and little cardboard tiki gods were on every table.  It was Hawaiian-laced insanity.

I managed to escape unscathed (if you count having to go to my US History class twice a week unscathed) and I didn't really think of it again until signs started popping up all over campus this last week.

"UNITY JAM!" the signs declared.  And then under that, there was a glossary definition of the terms "emceeing" which apparently equals rapping, thanks to the slanted graphic underneath the definition, and "graffiti."  According to the sign, graffiti appears to be Italian for "the world is our canvas."  Keep your Sharpies and spray paint away from me, you Italian freaks.

Next to all of that helpful information was the date and time this "UNITY JAM" would be held.  (It was yesterday, and I missed it because it's M2's birthday on Saturday and I had to go to Toys 'R Us in between blocks of classes.)

What the hell is a Unity Jam?  I wondered.  Will there be indiscriminate rapping and drawing upon the world, since it's our canvas?  Curiosity killed the cat, so I should probably be really glad I missed it.  I didn't want to be tagged as some gang's turf for the rest of the semester.  Who knows where that would lead.  (Drug muling, that's where.)

At the very bottom of the poster, it said "YOUR STUDENT ACTIVITY FEES AT WORK."

Wait a minute.

We paid for this?  We paid for the Unity Jam?  How can we pay for it when it's so fucking nebulous we don't even know what it is?  What about the Hawaiian Invasion?  Did we pay for that too?  Did the poor ladies from the business office pay for it with their souls?

Can I specify how I want my part of the Student Activity Fees to be spent?  (For the record, I'd like someone to bring me a barbecue lunch everyday for my fees.)

I can't wait to see what the intrepid Student Life Center has next for us.  I'm hoping it's a mime who acts out the entire movie of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.  Just because that might be better than the actual movie.  And if it is, I can get behind paying for that.