Being 20 at Penn State is like a flashback to your awkward middle school years. Unable to find a place for yourself in the party scene, you're stuck between feeling too old for the fraternities and being too young for the bars. After two and a half years of fraternity parties, the setting gets old.
My name is Abigail Silber, and I am suffering from junioritis.
Junioritis is a disease that strikes 20-year-old juniors whose 21st birthdays are just out of reach. Symptoms include boredom with fraternity parties, loss of interest in apartment parties, and a craving to join the bar scene.
When I was a freshman, and even a sophomore, I remember hearing my underage junior friends complaining about this disease and thinking they were crazy. What could be better then free drinks beer pong and dancing all night? It wasn't until junior year started that I truly understood their pain.
Wandering around inside a fraternity party, checking out the scene, you get a sensation of déjà vu and realize the whole evening is predicable. You'll drink a few beers, dance with your friends, avoid the shady guys with roaming hands and run out shortly before 2 a.m. in order to catch the Loop. The only question you face for the night is whether or not you'll stop at Canyon Pizza on the way home.
I'm not saying that I'm too good for the sticky floors at smoke filled over-crowded fraternity parties -- I just need a change of pace. Fighting, begging and flirting for warm flat beer gets old fast.
Apartment parties do allow for a more relaxing form of partying with friends, and cleaner bathrooms, but they too have their downsides. Problem One: The alcohol is usually in limited supply. Problem Two: They're even more crowed then fraternity parties, and in a smaller space. And the biggest problem, Problem Three: They are frequently busted by the police.
How do you know if you're afflicted by junioritis? Here's a simple test: next Friday or Saturday get all dressed up, get into the party mood and then ask your friends "where are we going tonight?" When they
reply "the frats," if you roll your eyes and sigh, you've got junioritis.
While I know many sophomores and even freshman who have developed premature junioritis, is never as painful as it is in it's final stages: where 21 is so close you can taste it, but not close enough to enjoy it. The most terminal cases of junioritis are seen in the rare senior with a late birthday -- to you I offer my deepest sympathies.
Now I'm not claiming that the bar scene is some sort of heaven on earth, but when you're still on the outside, it seems pretty close. And while my bank account is definitely appreciative of the fraternities for their free beer, my body can't handle anymore "Natty Light."
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy fraternity parties. I enjoy the dancing, the people and the occasional live band. And even once I turn 21, I will still make appearances at their parties. Junioritis is not about avoiding fraternities, or even being 21 -- it's about at state of mind.
As I'm typing this, I am within hours of turning 21, but the junioritis still lingers. It's a good feeling knowing I soon won't be dependent of others for drinks or have to worry about underage drinking citations in beaver canyon (only ones for public drunkenness). But like I said junioritis is a state of mind, and I will continue to party my nights away of Fraternity Row waiting for under-aged friends to reach the promised land.
Please don't take away from this column that my happiness is dependent on alcohol, because that's just not true. If you take anything away from this column it should be this: "Juniors ... I feel your pain."
