Few decisions, aside from all the ones you make past the age of 25, will affect your life as much as which university you decide to attend. In addition to dictating how you'll drink until you black out, which drugs you'll discover and abuse, and the type of people who will have sex with you, which school you choose will also leave a definable imprint on your personality.
So, if you still haven't picked your school for next fall (and if you haven't picked a school for next fall by now, oh my god, you are so fucked), here's a glimpse into your debt-filled future.
You want to obtain a university education while still being able to feel like you're never more than a hallway away from experiencing a Punta Cana hotel orgy.
You are the worst thing to ever happen to Quebec, but you have probably made friends in the Hells Angels.
You were in student politics: you know how to stuff a ballot box.
You were not in student politics: you have a Pavlovian response to hearing about the Israel/Palestine conflict that causes you to weep uncontrollably.
You've spent hours at The Manx convincing yourself that "Ottawa isn't so bad!"
You know Homecoming is the only thing keeping you from going to Carleton.
You wanted to get out of Ontario and go somewhere your tailored sweatpants would set you apart from the crowd.
University of Guelph
Due to either your athletic regimen or your natural biology classes, you know your way around some steroids.
"You're, like, totally an artist!"
You are either actively making the world a bad place or in a constant state of existential despair. You get upset when people need you to clarify "which" London you went to school in. You are probably white. And rich.
You could totally use your OSAP to put a down payment on a house in the Strathcona neighbourhood and make a shit-ton of money flipping the place when the rest of Toronto's artistic community gets priced out of Parkdale.
This is not a joke: this is advice.
You really like your high school friends.
Simon Fraser University
You're either elated or annoyed that the only thing people ever mention about your school is that it was the Delphi Museum of Colonial History on Caprica in Battlestar Galactica.
U of T
You chose U of T because you wanted an easy, non-threatening escape from your neighbouring suburban city of either Brampton, Mississauga, or Oakville, and it was either this or York. You figured you would rather live in a city, even though you visited Toronto maybe three times, and it was to go to the Exhibition Place with your older cousins. They seemed cool at the time but were encouraging you to go to York because you'd be able to commute from home, so you picked U of T out of spite.
Royal Military College of Canada
You think those pussies in Depot have it easy.
You read a Richard Price novel and craved an authentic, urban experience. Later, you walked past Hooker Harvey's that one time and still talk about it like it's your personal Vietnam.
Your parents sent you here because they heard it was called "The Harvard of the North" but knowing that won't save you from the bleak, barren landscape known as the Canadian job market, you've resigned yourself to "learning French" (aka dating a francophone) and endless games of frisbee golf. The two choices facing you now are: head back home to work a summer job at whatever company your dad runs, or stay in Montreal and get sucked into the never-neverland vortex of booze, drugs, and awesome bands that 10 years from now has you coming to in a St Henri squat afterparty next to a guy with a single dread coming out the side of his head and wondering, "Where did my life go?!"
University of King's College
You still have a copy of The Aeneid on your shelf. You have never read The Aeneid. You will never read The Aeneid.
University of Saskatchewan
You wanted the thrill of a big city without sacrificing the familiar smell of cow shit. Unless you're in a science program you have only a vague knowledge of the "Canadian Light Source," and you're sick of W. Brett Wilson being treated like the second coming of Jesus just because he's from North Battleford.
University of Regina
You wanted the familiar smell of cow shit, but without the thrill of a big city. You're probably mad that a U of S alum made this dumb joke about Regina being worse than Saskatoon, but in your heart of hearts, don't you kind of know it's true? On traveling to Ontario, you will be shocked to learn that Pil is an up-and-coming hipster beer. Pil.
Like almost everyone else in Vancouver, you've perfected a blend of two formerly diametrically opposed lifestyles. You're a business hippie, and you're terrible. Nude dance recitals at Wreck Beach are a pretty sweet way to unwind after an economics exam, though.
University of Victoria
You're a real hippie. You're living the dream, out there on that island with old people and rabbits. You do you.
You have severe anxiety about crossing bridges and Brown's Court landlords.
University of Alberta
You are so sick of people talking about the Butterdome. (But really, what the fuck is up with the Butterdome?)
University of Manitoba
You're either fucking sick of ag kids walking around like they own the damn place, or you're in ag, and you wish the arts students would realize whose town they're in.
University of New Brunswick
You crave Moncton's nightlife.
You can orgasm if you stare at your X-Ring long enough (it is also the only way you achieve orgasm).
That summer in Nepal really changed your perspective.
Cape Breton University
You will get out some day. You're also psyched to be included in this list.
Université du Québec à Montréal
Okay, so everyone in the country will probably shit on you and call you "militant hippies" because you get pissed off over tuition hikes (despite paying the lowest amount in the country). And yes, your bohemian roots sometimes mean that your anti-austerity protests morph into weirdly violent, barricaded school raves that feel like a collision between The Matrix Reloaded's party scene and The Raid, but look on the bright side: with the cyclical rebirth of 90s fashion trends, your nose-ring sporting, Che Guevara-shirt and Teva-wearing, Jamiroquai-loving competitive unicycle friends will soon be the muse of fashion bloggers in Milan and London!