Hey, break’s almost over. We, the Sun columnists and editors, are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. That means we get to … KVETCH!
Swimming for Keeps
Hey People At Cornell Who Makeup the Graduation Requirements, how about we save everyone some time and energy and require only one P.E. class to graduate? Due to debilitating intramural basketball injuries, some of us had to drop Intro to Yoga sophomore year and are now stuck taking something called “Racquetball” as a second-semester senior. How about a compromise: If you come in the top half of your swim test heat, you only have to take one P.E.? Who wouldn’t be on board for that? The swim test needs to have some consequences, it’s getting stale — T.M.
What up, The Committee on Academic Status? I was going along, enjoying me some holiday cheer, fiddling with the new Tamagotchi I got for Christmas, when you send me an e-mail reminding me that I received an “F” in a course last semester. Thanks, I almost forgot that I was an academic failure for long enough to enjoy the adorable video of my three-year-old nephew going ape-shit all over his new tricycle on Christmas morning. Messed up. — I.L.
Men, just stop putting emoticons in your booty-call texts. The last image I want in my mind when you say “where you at” is a creepy little smiley face winking at me. — A.K.B.
I’m still stuck at home with my crazy-ass family until Friday. To make matters worse, I let slip that I’m not planning to come back to my armpit of a hometown post-graduation, and now everyone keeps looking at me and making sad faces. My aunt is even making plans to buy tickets to wherever I’ll be. You know things are bad when you’re longing for Ithaca’s godless tundras. — K.C.
The semester hasn’t even started yet and you already want me to complain about something? Fine … I’m pissed off that the Jets only beat the Pats by seven points. They should have won by three touchdowns at least. — C.B.
What the fuck, Boston. It has been Ithacating — Ithacating! — for two days. Just when you think you can safely go sockless through March. But moreover! These people wouldn’t last a minute on the Hill! Not to mention a 40-minute walk to Baker Lab. Which goes to show that “wimp” is just another term for everyone east of the Hudson. You can take the tunnels to class in the snow, my fair-weathered friends, but know this: I will die in my footsteps before I go under the ground. — H.L.S.