The Search for the Perfect Major: Part 3

Major under discussion: Philosophy

The meeting had already started, so I quietly tiptoed through the back door of the classroom. It was the weekly Philosophy-Philes meeting. I think that means philosophy lovers, at least I hope so.

I'd never been to one of the meetings, but if I was going to see what a philosophy major really does, this was the place to be. I was surprised to see no one with taped glasses and pocket protectors. There was one student whose hairline was just beginning its process of recession, but generally they looked like normal people. This was encouraging! Maybe philosophy was the major for me.

A student stepped to the front of the room. She seemed like the leader. She had a look of wholesomeness, like a model for those pictures that come free with a new picture frame. In a very nasal voice, she went over the philosophy idea of the night. Then she announced a 10 minute silent "think-time." I hadn't been warned that I would need to think about philosophy.

Thinking about things… now that is not something I do for fun. I'd gotten through college so far without too much thinking, and I wasn't about to start by choice.

I spent the 10 minutes of thinking time trying to figure out how I could fake my way through the philosophy courses. It didn't look pretty. And neither did my face, which was now contorted in an expression somewhere between exasperation, confusion, and desperation.

At the end of the 10 minutes of misery, another student got up and said, "It is now time for the philosophy joke of the week. Descartes walks into a café and sits down ready to order. A waiter comes up to him and asks, 'Do you need a menu?' Descartes replies, 'I think not,' and he disappears!"

I had many questions about this so-called joke, which I tried to ignore as the room erupted in laughter. In fact, the most pressing question really made me proud of myself because it sounded philosophical. "Why am I here?" Actually, I wasn't referring to my existence; I was referring to my presence in the philosophy club.

My second "major" excursion was a wash. Philosophy just required too much thinking. I think I'll try something a little more… objective. Something concrete… like Biology.

The Search for the Perfect Major: Part 2

Major in the spotlight: Theatre

I was excited. Eager. Euphoric. Elated. Ecstatic. Enraptured. Exhilarated. I was seriously considering a future as a theatre major, and I had found my “big break”.

It was the day of auditions for my college’s winter play, and I was waiting in line for my chance to shine. This year’s special was Romeo and Juliet. I’d never read the play, but I’d listened to “Love Song” by Taylor Swift, so I was confident. The bright minds of the drama department had decided to run auditions in a style closely resembling “American Idol." Except in my school, there are three acerbic and abrasive drama buffs ready to cut me down instead of one American Idol Simon. I strode into the room and an assistant handed me a sheet of paper filled with lines from the play. It looked like all the auditions were being run the same way, with everyone reading lines for Romeo AND Juliet. I stepped in front of the judges and scanned the page one last time.

Simon 1: We haven’t got all day, please begin reading at the top of the page, the section of Juliet’s lines.
Me: Uh..okay. Do you need to know my name?
Simon 2: That’s not necessary unless you get a part. Which is doubtful, I must say… judging by the looks of you.
Simon 3: Ugh.
Me: Here goes… “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name…”
Simon 1: Don’t say it as you, use your imagination, don’t just read it! Start again with the same line.
Me: Yo, yo… Romeo, where are you, boo? Tell your daddy off…
Simon 3: Ugh.
Simon 2: That’s not funny.
Me: I know, sorry. I can’t do gangsta. But you said to use my imagination…
Simon 1: Well, never mind. Read the part of Romeo now, this time with true feeling.
Me: “Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.”
Simon 2: How true that is… that was much better. Thank you for your time. Leave your name with my assistant and we’ll be in touch.
Simon 3: Ugh.

They didn’t ask twice for me to leave, I was more than ready to get out of Dodge. Callback announcements were today, and I went to check the callback list on the drama department’s bulletin board. I ran my finger down the list of names, and my heart stopped. I had a callback! The list said I was being considered for the part of Rosaline. This was wonderful! Maybe being a theatre major would be the perfect fit for me! I’m getting on Wikipedia right now. I want to find out more about this Rosaline chick. Here it is, “Rosaline is an unseen character with whom Romeo briefly falls in love before meeting Juliet.” I would have no lines, and never appear on stage. This must be a mistake! Ugh.

I don’t think I’ll go to the callbacks. Instead, I’ll use that time to plan the next stop on my search for a major.

The Search for the Perfect Major: Part 1

Hesitantly, I stood outside my advisor’s door with my hand poised in the pre-knock position. Almost as if on cue, she opened the door and seemed startled to see me there. She was heavily laden with stacks of books and paper in a jumbled mess in her arms. The cluttered mass much resembled her hair, which seemed like a female version of Einstein’s infamous exploding hairdo. Was it my imagination, or was there a paper clip hanging from one of her stray locks?

“Oh my, I forgot all about our appointment. I’m so sorry, let me go back in my office and put this down and we can talk all about your little problems.”

Little problems? I had a major problem. And that’s exactly what it was.

I followed her as she made her way back through the door. I noticed the stacks of paper on her desk. They looked like essays and research papers. She was an English teacher. I made a mental note to avoid her classes.

Sighing, she folded her hands under her chin and propped her elbows up on the desk. “Now where were we?”
“You asked me to stop by your office today to talk about my major.”
“That’s right. What major had you chosen? I can’t remember.”
“Well, that’s the problem. Honestly, I actually haven’t picked one yet.”
“You’re certainly running out of time. Have you seen any majors that have piqued your interest?”
“No. I think I’m destined to be a professional hobo.”
“Now, don’t be hasty. I’m sure you’ll find a major soon. Why don’t you take the rest of the semester and look at your options. Let me know what you decide.”

After giving me some insight and direction on the proper way to explore the majors, she shooed me out the door so she could get to a meeting.

I strolled back to my dorm room, deep in thought. The wind wove its fingers in my hair, whipping it around the edges of my pensive face. My cheeks started to tingle with the effects of the chilly breeze. My advisor was right, my time was running out. For goodness sake, here I was halfway into the fall semester of my sophomore year, and I had no direction in my life. I didn’t need to plan out my life. I simply needed a general route for my academic pursuits.

That brings me to the present. I’ve decided to do a little research on the first major on my list… Theatre.