Untold Secrets of College: Junior Year Hangovers

Welcome to College.

Now you may have prior experience, but until now, you’ve never had the chance to really determine your level of alcoholism. But trust us, during your first year, you’ll figure out that you lie somewhere between the Terminator and Snooki’s newborn child on the scale of drinking ability. You’ll think you’re special and you are. You’re in your first two years of college.

Your first college party will likely go (already went) something like this: you’ll sneak into a frat you don’t want to join, you’ll drink with people you don’t want to drink with and you’ll wake up next to someone you don’t want to wake up next to. But you’ll find one inalienable truth: if it’s during your first two years of college, you’re going to feel fucking great the next morning. And it’s because you still have yourself a Lively Liver.

Until now, the worst thing your liver has had to filter is grandma’s creamed spinach through a straw at Thanksgiving the year you got your wisdom teeth out. But now you’re in the big leagues. Just like an NFL running back, you only get two good years. You count on your Lively Liver to bail you out every time, but just like last Sunday’s leftover pizza, it’s not a sure thing forever.

Your elderly junior friends will talk about mixing Motrin, orange juice and old beer in the blender as a hang over cure—which you won’t understand. After all, you don’t get hangovers.

Carrying on like this is easy enough for the first two years of college. Fifth of UV Blue here, fifth of Jose Cuervo there… And the occasional midnight puke sesh. Your Lively Liver gives you insurance just like a snowstorm before your bio final. You might even wake up feeling better than Honey Boo Boo after a line of coke. Soak it in, bitches. Your grades will slump your sophomore year, but your cast iron stomach chugs on.

Sleeping? Oh Face? OD'ing? Your Call.

Until that dreadful August morning of Welcome Week your junior year. Kiss underclassman land goodbye and welcome Shitville. Literally. It’ll be the first thing you do. Hope you liked Round One. Because there are 17 more throughout the day headed your way. Your stomach is going to feel like the Saarlac Pit from Star Wars and your eyes will look worse than Lindsay Lohan after four hours of sobriety. And that’s just Welcome Week.

You’ll think there’s a cure. Everyone tries. From the basics of drinking four bottles of Gatorade to more advanced methods involving a priest, a volcano and a goat. Trust us: it’s too late. You’re an upperclassman now. And no matter how many times you fail stats, you’re stuck in junior status.

You’ll think the first one’s a fluke. Even if you’re a guy who lives off a convenience store diets and plays Mindcraft all day, you’ll swear you got roofied. Or if you’re a softball player who forgot to Nair her mustache yesterday, no guy drugged your Steel Reserve last night. Seriously. You’re just a junior. With a hangover. And as awesome as Zach Galifianakis and Bradley Cooper made it look in Vegas, you’re not on the hunt to find anything but the next bathroom.

Just like you thought you were invincible your first two years, now you think there’s something wrong with you. So you try to hide it from your friends. Don’t tell them, cause then you’re a pussy. If the first time’s a fluke, the second time you get one, it’s got to be bacterial meningitis. By the third you’re hoping for full blown Aids, but it’s worse. You’ve lost your Lively Liver and picked up hangovers.

Just like you weren’t special when you didn’t get hangovers, you’re not suddenly special for getting them. So don’t compare symptoms with your friends. It won’t change anything.

There are plenty of Untold Secrets in college. The diaries of your diarrhea are just one of several scheming against your productivity to graduate. Lucky for you, you have us. Til next time. Cheers, kids.

-A&J, Grand Valley

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