I know that unasked for advice is as welcome as a cold sore, but I feel compelled to offer it anyway. Not to those among the class of 2002 who plan careers as astrophysicists, brain surgeons or teachers - you'll need help of an entirely different sort than I can offer. This guidance is intended for you who insist on working in television, movies or radio. Although your parents and I wish you'd aim for something a little nobler than a life spent in the media circus, you seem hell-bent on being here so you might as well be prepared. Some of this will seem harsh, but this is reality, where the rules are forever changing and unfair, and nobody hands out smiley stickers just for trying. It can be awfully nasty here. Get used to it.

For starters, get up. Before noon if you can manage it. If you thought that having an early class was a bitch, wait till you get a taste of the working life. Every single morning that alarm clock will squawk and guess who can't hit the snooze button? With very few exceptions, the world operates on a painfully early schedule. Your boss doesn't really care that you're not a morning person - neither is she. Neither is anyone else. No one, not even the very gifted and graceful, are spared the burdens of work. Talent is a lucky and glorious thing, but it is no match for sheer persistence and determination. Many a could-be Mozart has dozed in front of the television while a Britney Spears took over the world. Most people are too lazy to discover what they're truly capable of. Don't be lazy.

Sober up. If being wasted has become a lifestyle that you think you'll be able to continue as you Party Backstage With The Band, put down the bong and consider this: we're running a business here. I've seen a lot of very creative people crash and burn because they didn't know where the partying ended and the job began. It is not cool to be slobbering, puking, weepy and bleary. It is pathetic. It is also boring for the rest of us who have to deal with you and cover for your screw-ups. When we hire you to hand out t-shirts at concerts, or help with crowd control on a film set, or assist the cameraman with the six o'clock news, we'd like you to do that job and not piss away our time while you wait to be discovered as the next Fred Durst. Don't tell us how great you are; show us.

Read up. Pay attention to what's going on in the world. Stupidity is neither fun nor attractive. Learn as much as you can about your new job - or the one you're interviewing for. Don't be like the college student who recently passed through our studios not knowing the difference between Bangor, Maine and Bangkok, Thailand. (Hint: both cities invite you to get up to your elbows in melted butter, but in Bangor that's accompanied by a steamed lobster, not the live quasi-legal sex show you'll get in Bangkok.) Learn from the people around you. Old and out of it as they might seem, they've got a wealth of stuff to teach you. Don't think you're too cool to learn it. Don't be an arrogant twit. Truth is, the only people who really care whether or not you are totally happy are the same folks you've been treating like crap for the past ten years: your parents. The rest of us aren't all that worried about your dreams coming true. We have our own. If we offer our help, take it. If we don't, ask for it. You'll be amazed how far you'll go.

Finally, show up. Show up for your job, but more importantly, show up for your life. Don't sleepwalk through your days expecting to be happy in some nebulous future that may never come. And lose the counterfeit boredom and irony. Stop greeting every challenge/statement/new situation with a roll of the eyes and a muttered "whatever". That's a waste of everyone's time, but most critically, a waste of your own. Know that successful people have one trait in common: passion. Be giddy, be wide-eyed, and be open to new experiences. This is a sweet life, and an amazing world. Be glad you're here. Try to remember that enthusiasm is a first cousin to joy, and that the two always travel together. Travel with them.