The first person who wanted to burn books must have been a
student, correction ““ a college student. And what sparked
that desire must not have been Jane Austin or William Faulkner
(okay, maybe Faulkner).

With one more quarter to go, commencement is only a hop, skip
and a few more all-nighters away for those of us who will be
graduating in the spring.

The formula goes something like this: Boy meets girl. Boy falls
in love with girl. Boy gets girl and then it’s church bells,
flower girls, the works.

Last Friday, I was in Cerritos with third-year psychology
student Jier Dong and was surprised at how the sky had changed from
an industrial gray to a picturesque blue.

I half expected my conversation with one of the resident
assistants of De Neve Plaza to take place inside a dark downtown
bar. I would apprehensively walk across a floor of broken peanut
shells before spotting a hooded figure wearing sunglasses at the
far corner booth.

“I hate girls.” “Girls come with too much
drama.” “Girls are evil, shallow, sneaky, manipulative,
hypocritical and untrustworthy.”
These are only some of the more colorful things I’ve heard
spoken about my fellow women.

On MTV, a young girl with heavily lined eyes and markedly glossy
lips is explaining to me why Yves St. Laurent is her clothing brand
of choice ““ apparently because it’s lack of popularity
makes it the most conspicuously elite label.

While I watched celebrity chef Paula Deen blithely place an
entire stick of butter onto a heated pan, my roommate wailed for
the hundredth time, “I’m getting fat!” A lull
followed while she waited expectantly, I sighed in exasperation,
and Paula smiled at the melting butter.

Studying for midterms is painful. Working out at Wooden is
painful. Waking up for an 8 a.m. lecture is definitely painful. But
we do not suffer in vain ““ we put up with these things for
good reasons.

How nice it must be to live in Michael Buble’s lyrical
world of moondances, soulmates, and flying honeymoons. In
“Come Fly with Me,” he croons, “You may hear all
the angels cheer because we’re together.” I imagine
also that pink bunnies and dewy-eyed puppies must be waltzing while
cherubs and lambs are exchanging Valentines.