Ahh. Sweet, sweet relief hath finally come. The weekend has finally made her gloriously awaited arrival. But unlike the majority of my collegiate comrades, I have the fine fortune of kicking off the festivities on this lovely Thursday afternoon.
 
That’s right, ladies and gents. Here in what I like to call “University Land," there exists the ever-coveted 3-day weekend. Known by only the most strategic few, the 3-day weekend allows for some of the most memorable college experiences, most of which shall forever be unattainable by those who fall victim to the Friday death rumble.
 
But by now, you’re probably asking yourself, “How could he possibly know of this sacred myth? Is he really Val Kilmer?” Don’t worry though. I am not really Val Kilmer. But I am a man of another beloved faith – Freshman Year Freedom, where interfaith relations are encouraged and the sacrificial beverage of choice always goes down smoothly with a couple of late-night slices.
 
See, when I came to school earlier this year, I had two goals in mind:
 
     1.             Do well in the class
     2.            Do well out the class
     2b....