Back to School- Body Odor, Porn & Tiny Asian Adolescence

I'm not going to lie my head has been up in the clouds lately. When I'm not at the boutique selling high end lingerie to Sydney socialites I'm hanging out at a Surry hills cafe writing for you fine people. Even The Dirthouse has felt a little less filthy lately with stories of barristers and big name clients from Ms P's new law firm filling the air. 

But nothing and I mean nothing brings you back down to earth like starting back at university. Shit I'm in the wrong lecture theatre.

You'd think after three years I'd have this all down pat but obviously not. 

Great, now I have to slide past five people to the isle and sneak out of here.  

The hallway is full of clueless dickheads like me scurrying to find their class. The potent aroma of BO smothered in Rexona lingers in the air.  

I find the room on my timetable and head for the back corner of the lecture theatre. I quickly open my Moleskine notebook...mmm Moleskine. I discretely sniff the black leather and a young girl catches me. Awkward. I reach into my bag for a pen. No pen just a thousand packets of tampons. Soooo that's where they all are.

I recognise the girl two seats away from me. I think she was in my second year public relations class. I need to borrow a pen. I work up the courage to ask for one but as I lean over something else catches her attention. I follow her gaze across the room, there are two girls waving, she gets up and skips over to meet them.

I have no friends.

Man being a lecturer must suck. You're so over qualified and no one is listening to what you have to say. I look down and see twenty Macs open in front of me.

Facebook, Facebook, Tumblr, porn, Facebook. 

The pink attendance form is the only reason why there is anyone here at all.  

"Paige" I hear a female voice whisper from above 

I turn around and see a familiar face but no name comes to mind. I have absolutely no clue. Second year advertising class maybe? 

"Hey how are you?" I say cheerfully.

"Good good, what are you still doing here didn't you graduate last year?" she asks. 

What I want to say: Oh I didn't quite finish on time because I decided that it was more beneficial to reduce my workload. You see I was partaking in two highly sort after internships at renowned sydney PR firms but after being promoted to account executive I realised the industry wasn't for me so I decided to focus on my writing career instead, which is flourishing rapidly. Half, no three quarters bullshit.

What I actually say:  Nope still here I just love uni sooo much. I hope she picks up on my sarcastic tone.

"Oh that's cute" She doesn't. 

I turn back around and try to tune into what I'm actually meant to be doing.

Ideal reading positions. Really? I'm paying thousands and thousands of dollars to learn about the best way to read a textbook. This is a PR class for god's sake they need to be teaching us how to survive the duration of an internship, the best way to change a bin liner and how to remember seven coffee orders off the top of your head. 

I zone out for the rest of the class. 

One subject down, two to go. Between PR and communication strategies I have an hour break.  

Oh my way to lower campus I spot a slightly grey sliver man in his late thirties sticking out like a sore thumb amidst a sea of tiny Asian adolescence.  

"Marcus!" I shout He swings around in surprise.  

"Thank fuck" he cries throwing his arms around me and nearly bowling me over. 

Trust my only friend on the entire campus to be a middle aged gay man. Who by the way is fucking hilarious and always manages to get my ass into Sydney's best parties.  He's already got his own business but chooses to study part time to "broaden his horizons". 

We sit down on a ledge outside the cafeteria.  

"I feel like I'm 13 again, getting my name called in class" I mumble bitting into an apple. 

"Honey you are 13" he says searching through his Armani man bag.  

"You're 13 and I'm 103. I'd have to be the oldest fucker in this place" He pulls out a pack of cigarettes 

"And the richest" I brush the side of his Prada loafers with my navy Vans. We both laugh. 

He offers me a cigarette. I'm tempted because I know that it would make me look really cool. 


But I decline, I think my naughty school days are over.  

A 20 something guy walks past in jeans and a white t-shirt, a patch of glimmering chest hair peaking out the top. 

Yummy. 

He smiles and I smile back. Maybe my naughty school days aren't over just yet.

*

What I should be reading:

Public Relations Strategies and Tactics

What I'm actually reading:

The Hook-Up Culture Only Exists Because This Generation Has Never Properly Fallen In Love via Elite Daily

Whatever Suits by Zoe Foster-Blake in this month's Elle magazine

Hope those of you who are also back at uni are making the most of being a student.

• Cheap public transport
• Regular Centrelink payments
• Happy hour drinks at the uni bar
• Hairy young entrepreneurs
• Bucket loads of cool friend (unless you're me)                                                                           

The list goes on.

Let me know what you love/hate most about university life!