0033 is a 4-digit number.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m super proud of my school, but USC is fucking retarded sometimes.
I was so confused by this, I just sat staring at my screen for 15 minutes. I didn’t even try to enter it because I was convinced it wouldn’t work.
I’m still tempted to send them an email that would read as follows:
Thanks for my degree. Actually, I got 2–one for each of my majors. One, two. See, that’s how you count. “0033” is not a fucking 8-digit number. It is four. FOUR digits. FOUR, like the number of emails you’ve sent me to invite me to the inauguration of the new USC president, Chrysanthemum Nikias (that’s his name, right?). Don’t worry, I deleted all of them, but thanks for the thought.
I hope you can get the dates of the football games right in future emails as well as the number of suspects involved in each attempted robbery crime that you continue to email me about. I know you’re really good at nailing down most of the details, like the fact that the suspect was wearing a Louis Vuitton necklace, which I’m sure is totally real, but let’s focus on the numbers for a sec.
I am, however, slightly sad right now though about the fact that my email address is transferring to show up as an “alumni” address. Major balls there. I was planning on pretending like I’m still in college pretty much forever.
The good thing, though, is that I’ve pretty much looked the same since I was 15–in fact, when people guessed my age, they’ve been saying 21 or 22 for about 7 years now, which means that I should be able to milk my USC ID card for all the student discounts it’s worth well into my 30s.
Additionally, approximately 63% of my wardrobe consists of shirts from USC-, sorority-, and fraternity-sponsored events, so again I’ll be able to trick people into thinking that I’m still in college, assuming they don’t look at the dates on the shirts. That’s going to be totally fucked when we’re in the 2020 decade, but I guess as long as I still fit into them I won’t care.
(And yes, I do plan on wearing the same shirts for 10 years. I still have a pair of sweatpants from when I was in 6th grade. They’re legit Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants status, because there’s no way that 12-year-old me and 22-year-old me are anywhere near the same height or weight. The only explanation I can think of is that the world is a magical place. Enjoy.)