The students behind the ink

Camille Reid
2/17/12

It is somewhat embarrassing—embarrassing in the sense that I am missing out on the customs in which a large population of undergraduates at bigger schools takes part—to think that I have not had the typical “college” experience. When I think of why I have missed out, I do not blame my sometimes introverted nature. Instead, I place the fault on William Jewell College’s safe, claustrophobic atmosphere.
I do not regret coming to William Jewell at all, but it has definitely lacked in providing the experience that television portrays about American college life. I have not had that one-night stand or walk of shame in college, nor have I thrown up all over a fraternity house or blacked out and awoken in a strange place. I have never missed class because of a hangover, nor have I skipped class to get drunk at three in the afternoon. I have not tailgated all day before a football game, nor have I streaked through the Quad.
Yet, with all those things I have not done, I will be completing at least one ritual of the undergraduate: spending an unforgettable and forgettable week in Panama City, Fla., this Spring Break. They say Panama City is the second best place to spend your college Spring Break, next to Cancun, Mexico.
With seven of my sorority pledge-class sisters, I plan to let loose and make those terrible decisions that every college student should make on the sunny white sandy beaches of Panama City. We will be living it up in a condo for the week, waking up at noon to eat breakfast and begin the consumption of alcohol. Then, we will head down to the beach, where we can continue to drink, get a tan and a nap to be fully prepared for the eventful evening to come.
In the evening, we may hit up a club or five, dance with/on some guys we will never talk to or see ever again. Take one shot after another, with the intention to be puking by the time we get back to the condo. There is sure to be one or two of my sisters who will not be returning to the condo with me that night.
I am also sure that a couple of my sisters will be crying around 2:30 a.m. saying, “I am never going to drink again” or “Why did I break up with him?” or my personal favorite, “Why am I such a loser?”
With this play-by-play of what I think will happen on my break, I hope it measures up to the typical spring break I have seen on MTV each March since I was 12. If I do not make out with five different guys, cry at least once, have 10 drinks spilled on me, lose my phone, find it, and lose it again, I will be disappointed in myself.
So, though I may think at this point I have not lived up to my potential as a U.S. female undergraduate, I will have Panama City to remember, hopefully. If not, the pictures on Facebook and Twitter posts should be enough to jog my memory of the crazy events that took place during my last semester of college. Therefore, I would like to leave you with the thought that dreams can come true, and there is still time for you to live up to the stereotypical college experience expected of us.