pseudostoops

now clogging the internet elsewhere

02 April 2006

More Admissions

So, you know how I was whining last time about having to pair admitted students with current student hosts? I'm back for more! You see, John has been asking me why I took this gig. My standard answer is "I'm a sucker who can't say no." Of course, the reality is more complex, something like "I have a hard time saying no plus I sort of like having an excuse to whine to my friends and allow them to think I'm doing something nice for other people, and also whoever did it last year did a really terrible job so I sort of mistakenly assumed 'it can't be that hard to do better than that' and so I said yes." But seriously, that's way too long an answer to give to all of the 40 people who have asked me that question this week, so I'm sticking with "I'm a sucker who can't say no." But it's true that I really did think that I could do a better job of this than the person who did it last year- and that's no criticism of him, per se- he had tickets to the Ring Cycle at the Lyric the same week as admitted students weekend, which is a truly impossible combination, and if I were similarly situated, I'd pick the opera, too. But doing a better job seemed very, well, doable. Which is why it's freaking hillarious that I managed to assign, TO MYSELF, some real duds. I thought that last year's admit, with his briefcase and three piece suit and pocket square that matched his argyle socks (no I'm not making this up), and his haughty attitude, and his quick dismissal of me as "yet another crunchy granola type" who wasn't worth his time, was the worst admit ever. I was wrong. My admit is 19. There is nothing wrong with being 19. 19-year-olds do some important things, like go to college. But there are certain things 19 year-olds cannot do, and going to bars is one of them. when you are hosting someone for a weekend that involves three separate outings to local Chicago watering holes, having someone who is unable to enter those places can put a little crimp in your style, and you're forced instead to do something totally boring, like watch poker on television with your admit and your husband, both of whom are eating really gross hotdogs because your husband has decided that it being April, grilling season is BACK! Then there was the admit who told me that if I really cared about children, I would stop being a knee-jerk union supporter and admit that school vouchers are "the only way to make schools better." (TMAO, I'm pretty sure that your anonymous commenter has been accepted to my law school and plans on torturing me for the next year.) But maybe my favorite story comes from last night, when we were at a bar, drinking, having a nice time, and one of my current admits had the following conversation with me: admit: You know, I was really nervous about having you as my host, based on some of the things I've heard about you. pseudo: (thinking: oh goodness, this should be terrific) What do you mean? admit: well, after the whole recycling debacle last year. pseudo: (truly confused now) huh? admit: you know, when you recycled that other admit's pop can that he was going to throw away and you made some comment about how you couldn't break the habit of recycling aluminum that you picked up while living in California. pseudo: I only sort of vaguely remember that. How did I offend someone by recycling, exactly? admit: well, it's a little sanctimonious to take another person's can to the recycling. If he wants to throw it away, that's his business. pseudo: (to bartender) can I get another beer over here, please? After this weekend, I feel even more fortunate to have found a nice, normal, balanced group of friends with a sense of humor. Really, law school is a lot more tolerable when you have people to hang out with who don't make you want to scratch your eyes out.

2 Comments:

At 4/03/2006 11:25:00 PM, Blogger Jack Chou said...

grilling season is BACK!

 
At 4/07/2006 11:34:00 PM, Blogger Kilian Betlach said...

My favorite new union activity is the branding. We wait for the new moon to reach its zenith, gather in an empty field in an undisclosed location near Berkeley, and after building high the fires of our MASTER, we place irons into the fires and sear our flesh with them. I love union membership. And the horned one.

 

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