Picking and choosing College traditions

Here we are, just one more week of classes, graduation less than a month away. With one foot seemingly already out the door, I feel guilty about all of the things I never got to do here.

I never did the triathlon. In fact, I barely even started, completing the governor’s wall twice freshman year. Man, I thought I was so edgy, especially as the cops pulled around the corner. And while I feel a little bad for not getting though the tradition, I’m too body-conscious to streak and too hygienically motivated to take the Crim Dell plunge. I think it’s gross, no matter how many people have done it before me. If you think about it, all of those gonads in that water make it all the more gross.

I’ve never had a drink at Paul’s Deli, as I’m a loyal fan of the Green Leafe. Actually, I’ve never had a drink at the College Delly either — only the delicious food. The bar scene on campus never quite got me as it is, and sneaking in— also a luring tradition — never really tempted me away from Braxton Court parties or Lafayette Street.

I’ve never seen a full re-enactment or been castigated for running through one. I barely even run — a College pastime I just never embraced. Perhaps that’s why streaking is so terrifying; if I can’t psyche myself up to run clothed, there’s no way I’m about to do it naked.

I have no desire to brave the tourists to see the lambs or calves. There are too many children in Colonial Williamsburg as is; I don’t want to go to their mecca. But I have to rethink my last month before I ship off. What will I remember about my final College moments if they’re a pollen-filled snooze fest?

I’ve only done karaoke once, and it was freshman year. This I might try to remedy before I leave, maybe even with my parents in tow. But the College is so much more than the trite traditions that we tack onto the experience.

What will I miss about my time at the College? The people: my sisters, my alterna-friends, my bathed friends, my Rec Center coworkers, the do-gooders and the besties.

I will leave behind my suburban America experience: the joy of outlet shopping and the novelty of Target and Wal-Mart. I finally experienced Everywhere, U.S.A., and yet it was the most unique experience of my life. Here, I tasted my first Domino’s pizza, my first Wendy’s, my first Wawa and the comforts of Taco Bell. Who knew these experiences would be my greatest cultural leaps?

I’ll miss the awkward College radio and Cap City Crunk Squad from Richmond. No slick New York radio could ever hold a candle to the Massive Saxophone or French Pop mornings, no matter how good the reception.

Never again will I have to go to an ABC store and feel like a criminal for buying a bottle of alcohol or get carded at the grocery store if my friend is buying beer. Goodbye teetotaling Virginia and the glory I felt at finally turning 21. But still, I will miss the surreptitious joy of being able to legally drink, something totally lost in New York’s liberal scene.

I will miss my glorious professors. The snarky, the bubbly, the disaffected, the brilliant and even the chemistry department’s affinity for very short running shorts. I will miss Wenska’s cigarette breaks and seeing professors on dates in New Town. I will miss the jump! posters and pregnancy flyers and all other the delightful reading on the back of bathroom stalls.

I will miss the smell of Wren and the musty secrecy of the costume shop in PBK — history and tradition made olfactory.

I will miss feeling like I am a part of the campus, nestling into my routine, which is a little different every day. Perhaps, most I will miss writing this column and lending a voice to the campus.

__Charlotte Savino is a Confusion Corner columnist. Join her for karaoke at the Hospitality House this weekend.__


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