So You Wanna Be a Violet, Huh? A (Mostly) Hilarious Guide to Paying for NYU
Ah, NYU. The Big Apple's crown jewel, a breeding ground for the woke and the woke-up-at-3-am-cramming-for-an-exam, a place where squirrels wear tiny NYU hoodies and pigeons judge your brunch choices. It's also, uh, expensive. Like, "selling-your-kidney-for-tuition" expensive. But fear not, aspiring Violets! This guide (patent-pending, all rights reserved, don't steal my avocado toast puns) will equip you with the financial wizardry (or lack thereof) to navigate the treacherous waters of NYU's bill.
Step 1: Denial. It's Not That Bad, Right?
First things first, let's address the elephant in the bursar's office: the price tag. You might convince yourself it's just a few digits, a sprinkle of zeros, a small donation to the "Fund-My-Liberal-Arts-Education-So-I-Can-Write-Haiku-About-Existentialism" foundation. But reality, that sneaky little minx, will eventually barge in with a bill the size of a small car. Don't worry, though! Just hyperventilate for a bit, then move on to...
Step 2: Financial Aid Fairy Tales: Once Upon a Grant
Remember those magical FAFSA forms? The ones promising rivers of gold and mountains of scholarships? Yeah, about that... Prepare for disappointment, friends. Unless you're a Nobel Prize-winning hamster who moonlights as a brain surgeon, your aid might cover enough for, like, a bagel and a sad cup of instant ramen. But hey, at least you can tell your grandkids, "Back in my day, we survived on ramen and existential angst!"
Step 3: Get Creative (a.k.a. Desperate)
So, grants are a bust. Time to unleash your inner hustler! Here are some (questionable) money-making ventures:
- Sell artisanal sadness poems to NYU hipsters for $10 a pop. Bonus points if you write them on used napkins.
- Become a professional line-waiter for brunch spots. Master the art of the steely glare and the strategic elbow nudge.
- Offer your services as a human fidget spinner for stressed-out students. Spin, twirl, soothe their anxieties, earn those sweet, sweet dollars.
- Rent out your dorm room as a pop-up speakeasy for bathtub gin and existential discussions. Remember, speakeasies are cool, mold is not.
Step 4: Beg, Borrow, Barter (But Not Steal... Probably)
Time to tap into your inner charity case. Hit up every family member, distant cousin, and the nice old lady who feeds the pigeons in Washington Square Park. Offer to write their memoirs, paint their poodles, or ghostwrite their Tinder profiles. Just promise them eternal gratitude and a guest spot at your graduation speech (where you'll inevitably rant about the evils of capitalism).
Step 5: Embrace the Ramen Lifestyle (and Possibly Scurvy)
Ramen for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. Learn to identify edible weeds growing between the cobblestones. Shower at the gym (don't tell anyone). Embrace the fact that your apartment doubles as a petri dish. Remember, suffering builds character! (And possibly salmonella, but that's a story for another time.)
Bonus Round: Sell Your Soul to a Wall Street Hedge Fund (Optional)
Okay, maybe not literally. But internships can be lucrative, my friends. Network like a boss, charm those suits with your avocado toast knowledge, and rake in the dough like a Wall Street squirrel hoarding nuts. Just don't lose your soul in the process (or your sleep. Seriously, those guys work crazy hours).
In Conclusion:
Paying for NYU is an adventure, a rollercoaster ride of emotions, a test of your sanity (and your liver). But hey, you'll graduate with a degree, a lifetime of debt, and enough existential angst to fuel a small power plant. And who knows, maybe you'll even land your dream job writing listicles for Buzzfeed about surviving on ramen. So chin up, Violets! The future is bright, even if it's a bit blurry through your sleep-deprived eyes.
Disclaimer: This guide is for entertainment purposes only. Please consult a financial advisor (or a friendly bodega owner) for actual financial advice. And seriously, don't sell your kidney. You need those for avocado toast later.
