I thought this entry would be simple to write, with 4 years to prepare for it, but it's not easy squeezing everything into a short blog post. I don't want to make this one of those trite "College was so life changing!" tributes either, since we already have our expectations on how life changing college would be. So I'm going to skip all that altogether; it's better when you find out for yourself anyway.

Lately, I've been what happens afterwards. What happens when they call your name and you cross that stage, excited to finally have some shade, and shake the hand of some guy you don't even know? What happens when they hand you that piece of paper that says "This is not your diploma! Your real diploma will be mailed within six months!" Even though this is my second time around, the truth is, I still don't know. But I'm looking forward to afterwards all the same.

I feel like I should say something about San Diego, having spent a pivotal four years here. Unfortunately, I don't really know what to say. Believe it or not, there are a few occasions when I feel my words are inadequate, and this is one of those rare moments. Luckily, at times like these, I can rely on the wisdom of great men before me. So I'll leave you with the forever immortalized sign-off of Ron Burgundy, anchorman:

"

One of the first things I learned when I came to college was the value of wearing sandals. I started out as a clueless freshmen, putting on socks every morning so I could lace up my sneakers and head to class. Eventually, I realized that I was wasting too much time. Granted, I rarely untied my shoelaces, but wearing socks every morning and pulling them off ever night was consuming what little time I had in my day.

So I learned to wear sandals. My first pair were the ever popular, ever fashionable Rainbows-- dark brown, thick straps, in medium. As all my friends told me, they weren't so comfortable at first, but after the initial break-in period, they would begin to feel like a second skin. And you know what? They did. I became very attached to my pair of sandals, taking them wherever I went, from Taiwan to Hong Kong to all over the world. For almost every morning of our blissful two year relationship, I would slip on my Rainbows and be on my merry way.

But then the unthinkable happened. Just before I started my junior year, I went to a friend's party to celebrate the imminent return to voluntary imprisonment. I left my Rainbows at the door, since no shoes were allowed inside the house. Noting a large number of similar footwear at the door, I purposely left them a little to the side, making a mental note of their location. Alas, all was for naught; as I was preparing to leave the party, I noticed my Rainbows were not in their special place. Frantically, I scanned the rest of the shoes (while trying to maintain my balance). Since I was one of the last to leave, there weren't many shoes left. Among them, a pair of brown Rainbows in medium. But the moment I tried them on, I knew there was something amiss. These didn't feel right! These weren't my Rainbows! These weren't the same pair of sandals that I had spent a good two years of my life with! Distraught with grief, I somehow managed to stumble into my car and go home.

I knew that the chance of finding my lost Rainbows was small since there were many bare-footed guests at the party, so a few days later, I decided to move on, and bought my second pair of sandals: a pair of leather Reefs. But somehow they were not right for me. For over a year, I tried to develop the same relationship I had shared with my Rainbows, but they never showed their appreciation for me in quite the same way. Every time I slipped them on my feet, I had a distinct feeling that there was something left to be desired.

And so, just a few months ago, I moved on to my third pair. I managed to find a rare pair of size 9 Reefs with a rubber footbed. This extra-soft sandal immediately provided an accomodating comfort that I had never found in my earlier sandals. From the beginning, I was confident that this relationship between me and my sandals was going to last a long time. I would soon find out how wrong I was.

Yesterday, a friend from Washington DC decided to visit. He went back to DC today. And somehow, he's managed to switch my left sandal with his. Apparently, we own the exact same pair of sandals. I thought I could adopt this new half with very few problems, but after wearing it for a few minutes, it's driven me insane. I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry! Please come back to me, my squishy left Reef!

I wish I could take credit for writing this, but as much as it pains me to admit, the author I am not. Enjoy!

At last, we have the guys' side of the story. Someone has finally taken the time to write this all down.

We're all expected to magically know THE RULES about girls. Now here are the guy rules that all girls should know.

Please note: These are all numbered "1" on purpose!

1. Men are NOT mind readers.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not quests to see if he can find the perfect present, again.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one. Subtle hints do not work! Stong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

1. Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every  question.

1. Come to us with a problem ONLY if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

1. If you won't dress like the Victoria Secret girls, DON'T expect us to act like soap opera guys.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the OTHER ONE.

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1. Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.

1. All men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it WILL be scratched. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. REALLY.

1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as sex, cars, the shotgun formation, or video games.

1. No, he doesn't know what day it is. He never will. Mark anniversaries on a calendar.

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

1. I am in shape. ROUND is a shape!

Would you believe me if I told you that I found an investment that yields up to 80 percent annually? That the minimum investment is only a few thousand dollars? That you're guaranteed to get your money back, if not many times more?

I'm serious here. This is an epiphany that I had earlier today, and I'm willing to share it with you, right now. And the knowledge that I'm going to impart here has the potential to make you richer beyond your wildest dreams.

You know the first thing that they say about real estate investments: "Location, location, location!" And the second: "Timing!" Location and timing--that's exactly right. No, I'm not talking about buying land on the moon and waiting a hundred years; that's a gimmick, trust me. This is an idea that's not only only practical, but one worth dying for.

So now you're really wondering, "So, Michael, what is it? What's your great idea?" and maybe "Bah, impossible!" and if you're really weird, "If my hand is bigger than my face, does that mean I have cancer?" (Yes, it does. Come here and I'll show you).

Well, I'll hold you in suspense no longer: Right now, the best location, the best market for real estate, is at the cemetery.

Think about this for a second: just a few years ago, you would expect to pay maybe a thousand bucks for a nice plot to rest for eternity. Today, that same plot is worth maybe five times that much! And the prices will continue to rise. Here's why: the baby boomer generation. Those folks that were born during the reproductive frenzy of the 1950s are getting older and older. You already know how they're taxing the American Medicare system... well in a just a few years, they'll be taxing the funeral business. And as the demand for cemetery space goes up, that can only mean that the prices will as well. And that, my friends, that is when you sell, sell, sell!

Don't think that burial plots are your only option. If you have substantially more capital to put into the mortuary market, there are plenty of options. Take, for example, our local memorial park, Rose Hills. Currently, Rose Hills offers you a wide selection of properties, ranging from relatively inexpensive Monte Vista Terrace ($2,700) where you'll enjoy your interment in "secluded tranquility," to the gardens of Lakeview Private Estates (up to $880,000) where you can brag about having the "most exclusive property in Rose Hills."

As you can see, with investments ranging from only a few thousand to almost nine-hundred-thousand dollars, the mortuary market is for both big and small players. And your investment carries the same guarantee as death--100 percent--so you can rest peacefully knowing that you've invested your money in a market with absolutely no risk!

For more specific details on how to invest in the mortuary market, please purchase my new book "Dead Real Estate: How to make a killing on the mortuary market" where I provide tips on what to look for when looking for a grave, how to handle death and taxes, and how to absolutely ensure that someone occupies your plot. For the low price of $44.44, I'll tell you secrets and techniques so amazingly powerful that they're illegal! Since this book is not available from legitimate publishers, please send your money directly to me, Michael. I'll take anything from credit cards (please include expiration date and security code) to personal checks, payable to me.

Pay within the next hour, and receive a new tombstone, free! This ten pound block is made from the highest quality concerete, and is large enough to fit all two of your initials. Buy now and receive both a copy of my book and a free tombstone--you don't want to miss out on this opportunity of a lifetime!