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Sweaty Palms and Chafing: An Ode to Summa Time
April 24, 2008 - 12:00amCall me Jared Leto, but I despise spring. It’s partially because joy is spreading faster than Hanna Montana fever, and whenever I see an architecture student smile, I know there’s an English major out there crying just to maintain a cosmic balance. To a certain degree, it’s because Ithaca’s spring is a seasonal skort; look, spring, skorts are a creepy and confusing blurring of categorical boundaries. Don’t be a skort — I don’t appreciate getting a sunburn whilst freezing my ass off. But mostly it’s because spring just isn’t summer, and, if From Justin to Kelly taught me anything, it’s that there’s oh, so much awkwardlicious fun to be had in the summer sun.
‘Oh My God, It’s Airborne!’
April 10, 2008 - 12:00amSyphilis is kind of funny. And the fact that Cornell had to distribute a mass e-mail painting a bare-bones picture of the recent syph outbreak is downright hysterical (alas, if only we could “Reply All”). But the real gem is the simultaneity of the syph outbreak and the rise of bizarre Collegetown Creeper-esque crime. Correlated? Sure. Cause-ated? God, I hope so.
Personas Non Gratas
March 27, 2008 - 12:00amIn honor of the week after spring break, I've compiled a travel guide through the sun-burned skulls of some of my favorite post-vaca characters.
1. The Facebook Pornstar
Her tell: More Facebook albums than tan lines.
Her tagline: "Discretion? Oooh, sounds like a brand of vodka."
The Facebook Pornstar lives by a strict code: 1) detagging is for ugly pictures only, and 2) the wetter the wifebeater, the better the profile picture.
You Reap What You Sow
March 6, 2008 - 1:00amThe first boy I ever kissed was a catch. No, seriously. I caught him. Fool tried to escape through the woods in my backyard. Come on, really? If you’re being pursued by Jaws, you wouldn’t pencil dive into the water. Similarly, if you’re being pursued by a nine year-old female version of Survivorman, you should probably avoid the wooded regions. I was an easy 5’6” and my direction changes had yet to be weighed down by puberty-induced lady-mounds. Mark, a whopping 4’9” pile of marshmallow weighing in at a buck ten, didn’t even challenge me.
At the ripe age of nine, I had already been taught the fundamental code of the cavewoman: we Amazons had to be a little more proactive in the capture and detainment of our clutch-sized carry-on boy-toys.
The Dry Season
February 21, 2008 - 1:00am“The first couple years of college are just an extension of freshmen orientation week. You’re bombarded and thrilled with the plethora and availability of beer; Natty Ice is staring you down at frat parties with open legs and a come hither look, completely free with no strings attached. Busch is one fake ID and some sweet-talking away from packing your fridge. And after you got about six in you, even Pabst starts tasting good. Sure, the last time you really enjoyed being drunk — and didn't wake up with a hangover and a three-hour date with the confessional booth — was with Dogfish. But it's 10 bucks for a six. Natty will do; you’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.
Chicken Soup for the Wounded Pride
February 7, 2008 - 1:00am“So, I guess I’ll see you around?”
No … you um, you just broke up with me. And I wasn’t even sure we were actually dating. I felt like P. Diddy getting voted out of the band. Hold the phone — wasn’t I the one running this show?
I snapped my cell shut, more shocked, confuse and disappointed than the first time I found out the guy who sang “Never Gonna Give You Up” was a pasty, redheaded teenager. I just got dumped for the first time ever, and I had no idea how to respond. How was I supposed to deal with this? Think Shannan, what would Streetfighter do?
Too Sexy for my Sweatpants
January 24, 2008 - 1:00am“You must be a model or something.” I was wearing a jersey, shorts past my knees, sandals and socks. I looked down at my half-devoured chicken hoagie. Look, I’m not exactly perceptive — up until the night of my parents’ wedding reception, I had been under the distinct impression that my stepdad was black. He’s Polish. But I realized that this stranger’s powers of perception rivaled my own.
I turned around to be face-to-chest with a 5’7” coke fiend with an obvious case of the jitters. I would’ve thought he was joking, but the unguarded lust in his one steady eye told me this man was sincere. Like most of the lady-kind, I know that genuine compliments are as rare as leftovers at WeightWatchers, so I decided to fan the fire.
People That Are Awesome
October 25, 2007 - 12:00amShe had always felt different from her brother. It wasn’t because she was adopted — they had been her family for as long as she could remember — but she was just different. One day, when she received an invitation to visit the new toy factory, she and her brother found out how unusual she really was.
The owners of the toy factory acted like they knew her. When they revealed themselves to be white-bodied aliens wearing people suits, she tried in vain to escape. Finally she came to realize, to remember what she had always known somewhere inside her. She, too, was a white-bodied alien. They had returned for her.
Game Killers
October 11, 2007 - 12:00amAt 20 years of age, I was by far the oldest girl in a skeevy bar in Boston. I had maturity, an Ivy League education, a reliable source of income and a leopard print dress on my side. And with a witty pick up line like, “Do you guys feel like you’re swimming in jail bait here?” the boy had no chance. He had to drop digits. And, after three months of uncharacteristic and surprisingly successful game, I had only suffered a few morning-after face-plants and unprovoked sweat-fests, and had redeemed myself with surprise tickets to a Red Sox game. Yes, I was smoother than John Legend in silk drawers, and I had the boy on lock.
Oh My God, Are You Wearing Jellies?!
September 27, 2007 - 12:00amMy alarm was set to play the 69 Boys’ masterpiece “Tootsee Roll” at 7 a.m. My breakfast consisted of three bowls of Wheaties and a warm-up lap around the house. My Walkman already held my own Lifetime Original Movie soundtrack: Jock Jams Volume 1. And my yellow Smile Jesus Loves You lunch box contained a Powerbar, an All Sport and a note from Mom that read, “Either come home with a victory, or don’t bother coming home.”
It was Olympic Day, and utter domination was in the air.