On an infamy scale of one to 10, our beloved Cornell could score a high nine. It is sort of the Berlin of major universities. Ask any undergraduate what’s most remarkable about Cornell and you might get a violent tirade about (1) the atrocious weather; (2) the backbreaking, soul-crushing amount of schoolwork; (3) our miserable No. 14 ranking (Washington University … in St. Louis? Honestly); (4) the never-ending ribbons of red tape enveloping Day Hall (perhaps the freshman recruiters can say it’s for AIDS awareness) and so on. However, there is one infamy Cornell is world-renowned for — one far more devilish, merciless and unforgiving than the most frigid of Ithacan days: there are simply not enough hot chicks here.
Whoa, ladies, hold your protests for a moment. Yes, there is an element of chauvinism and superficiality at work here. But this is what the guys talk about. At late-night smoke outs in Low Rise Six to hallway discussions in fraternity houses to pseudo-artsy discourse in Collegetown, befuddled Cornell males always seem to be lamenting the same questions: Why are there so few gorgeous women amongst these gorges? Why do the girls here keep getting better grades than I do? Why did my mom erase my Internet porn collection? For Heaven’s sake, where did I put the 30-pack of Beast?
Now, let’s shift gears momentarily. Imagine, gentlemen, being at a university where everything was the direct opposite of Cornell. A fantasy-world where the temperature never dipped below 85 degrees, the coursework was laughable at best, and every woman looked as if she either belonged on the cover of Maxim or in the closing credits of a Vivid Video production. Nirvana, right? Of course, this school is not a figment of anyone’s imagination — as difficult as it may be to imagine what warmth feels like again. This is Arizona State University.
In its most recent poll, Playboy magazine ranked ASU second in the nation for attractive females. In the last four years alone, the school of over 55,000 students has been named the top party school in the nation, has perennially supplied the aforementioned men’s magazine with hot subjects for its “Girls of the Pac-10” issue (including more than a few cover models), and has dealt with numerous scandals involving amateur sex videotapes. Not to mention that Scottsdale, one town over from Tempe, is home to perhaps the greatest on-screen legend of all-time: Jenna Jameson. Naturally, my friends and I chose this destination for the usual fall break debauchery.
I won’t bore the esteemed Sun readership with sophomoric tales of getting thrown out of bars or ill-fated brushes with the Tempe gendarmes, but there is one monumentally significant disclosure in dire need of revelation to the males reading this piece. Bemoan Cornell’s meteorological deficiencies all you want, assail your professors for the excruciating assignments to no end, but never again utter an intolerant remark concerning the women who surround you. The women of Cornell are absolutely fabulous.
To illustrate my point, consider this sparkling conversation I witnessed between a colleague and one of the many buxom Sun Devil beauties:
Disenfranchised and Horny Cornellian: “So, ASU is hosting the third and final presidential debate this week, that’s pretty big news. Any idea who you guys are going to vote for?”
Lust-Inspiring Sorority Sun Devil #1: “Well, uh, obviously George W. Bush, right?”
Mouth-Wateringly Beautiful Sun Devil #2: “Yeah, of course, that’s who we’re voting for.”
Slightly Taken Aback But Still Drooling Cornell Male: “O.K., but why Bush? What makes him a viable candidate in your minds?”
Bra-Busting Sun Devil #1: “Um, he is the president, aren’t you supposed to vote for the president? Yeah, we’re voting for the president.”
Immaculately Tanned Sun Devil #2: “Wait, did you just say you’re on Viagra? Wow, that’s really weird.”
Even the inhumane amount of alcohol in my system during this exchange could not mask the stupendous feeling of disbelief cascading over me. In that instant of clarity, my mind struggled to grasp the notion that a line of thinking such as this could actually exist. I further wrestled with the idea that people like this could actually exist. And after four days of similarly mind-boggling encounters, I have never been so happy to return to the misery of Ithaca.
Cornell girls are smart, funny, opinionated, creative, witty, insane, and most of all, not afraid to be who they are and show off who they are. There is no other place on Earth where a woman can dominate a classroom discussion on genetics, spend four hours at Uris perfecting her command of Mandarin, and then go out the very same night and perform a ludicrous 60-second keg stand. There is no university in the country where the women are more unique, interesting, and culturally astute. I have never seen a group of women so intrinsically motivated, whether it is to score the highest on an organic chemistry prelim or brave the cold weather in a skirt and heels just so they always look their best. From Mozart and Vivaldi to Bruce Springsteen and 2Pac, from the innovations of La Dolce Vita to the intricacies of Mean Girls, from the liberalism of Mill to the latest celeb gossip, Cornell girls excel in almost every conceivable way. We guys just do not know how good we have it.
Seeing as how I have found myself writing another sports column that has nothing to do with sports, a quick look at the tireless females in varsity athletics will help illuminate this argument further. When she is not laying waste to opposing defenses on the volleyball court, ask spiker stud Liz Bishop about her penchant for the paintings of Monet. Feel free to chat up the leading scorer of the field hockey team, Danielle Dunn, about her favorite film, The Birdcage. Need the inside scoop on the hottest R&B tracks? Find cross country phenom Kate Boyles, an ardent connoisseur of Al Green and Marvin Gaye.
Whether it is dominating opponents on the field, shattering backboards on the court, dancing on tabletops at the bars or establishing inimitable Facebook groups, Cornell girls simply rock. If only they could just see through the sketchy dance parties for the guy I truly am.
_ Further Considerations: New York Jets undefeated … Yankees and Red Sox finish another thrilling series … seriously who even cares. When the Knicks beat the Lakers or Columbia beats ‘SC then maybe there will be something to discuss … Patriots-Jets? Please. The real game of the week is occurring across the Atlantic: Premiership juggernauts Arsenal and Manchester United square off on Sunday … If you have not seen ABC’s hit Desperate Housewives yet, you’re missing out on a wealth of guilty pleasure fulfillment. And only two weeks to the day until the long-awaited premiere of The O.C. — two days after the election.
I’m still trying to ascertain what is more important.
Kyle Sheahen is a Sun Assistant Sports Editor. The Ultimate Trip will appear every other Thursday this semester.
Archived article by Kyle Sheahen