Eva’s Apple #17: A dominant outlook

Eva Jaber ’28 (she/her) is a prospective English or international relations major. She is a member of the Cleftomaniacs, an a cappella group, an ESL tutor and hopes to encourage peace-minded advocacy on campus. Contact her at ehjaber@wm.edu.

The views expressed in the article are the author’s own.

I realized when I sat down to write this issue that I don’t think I’ve come up with a name for the Eva’s Apple fan base. Has anyone asked for this? Not important. Do my readers like this column enough to identify as fans? It’s impossible to say. Have half the questions I’ve answered in the past 16 articles been asked by my mom? Brb. I’m on my way to invoke my Fifth Amendment rights.

Skepticism aside, I do think it’s important that people who pledge their allegiance to me as their almighty satire advice columnist know what to call themselves. I’ve been workshopping some names. “The EvApostles” feels like I’m trying too hard. I like “BeliEvas,” but it’s too close to Justin Bieber’s “Beliebers,” and I want to be special. Right now, I’m deciding between “Eva’s Little Apples” and “Eva’s Divas.” They’re short. They’re sweet. And they’re cute as can be. As a sidebar, I’ve found a syntactic loophole to get around The Flat Hat’s Oxford comma ban. If I use periods instead of commas in my three-item lists, I get a similar effect, free from the fascism of the AP style guide. Boom. Take that, copy editors (I jest; I love you divas). Anyway, if you have a favorite between the two top fandom name contenders, buy me a very expensive present and write your preferred name on the gift receipt. With that, I give you the question of the week, which is as follows:

“If I email my professor at 2:14 a.m., does that establish dominance or concern?”

Because I’m a woman of empiricism, I asked one of my professors this question. Based on his insight and my (some say divine) intuition, I’ve determined that the answer to this question is situationally specific based on your intended career path. I could just give you a list of fields and how I think this question applies to each of them, but I could also fill my Skechers with wet dog food and attend a kickboxing class at the Rec. Just because I could do something doesn’t mean I should. All this is to say that providing you with a list gives you the choice to identify the advice that’s right for you. This would mean I’m assuming that you know what’s best for you. I think you think you know what’s best for you, but would you trust anyone reading an advice column to be completely confident about their goals and how they plan to get there? Yeah — I thought so.

Don’t worry, though. As the one qualified to give you the advice you’re so desperately seeking, I have a foolproof algorithm to determine what career path is right for you. Based on that, I’ll tell you whether it’s appropriate for you to be sending professors emails at 2:14 a.m. So, without further ado, please proceed to the second-ever choose your own adventure edition of Eva’s Apple. Nothing is a better indicator of someone’s character and predisposition to certain fields than the way they treat other people. With this in mind, you will be asked to choose your preferred course of action when faced with different hypothetical, but entirely realistic, situations. The choices you will make in the next few minutes are going to determine what you do for the rest of your life. Godspeed, dear reader.

1) You notice that one of your friends is slowly turning into a plant. Just yesterday, their hair looked normal, but now it’s green and leafy. You notice the following day in your human anatomy class that they’ve labeled veins and arteries on a diagram as “xylem and phloem.” They don’t seem to have any awareness of this odd and extreme transformation. What do you do?

a. I’ll wait for the transformation to finish. They will be my house plant, and I will rename them Liam Tree-son. [skip to #2]

b. I’m taking them straight to the lab. The College of William and Mary was most recently ranked 12th in the nation for undergraduate research. The alma mater of the nation deserves better than that. When I publish a paper on my friend, the first human to photosynthesize, we’ll go straight to number one. [skip to #3]

c. I’m gonna sit them down and be honest with them. They deserve to know that they’re slowly transforming into a plant. They need my support more than I need their glucose. I eat, sleep and breathe empathy. [skip to #4]

2) You’re weird and also highkey evil. You’re gonna be rich! Answer this next question to figure out which high-paying job you’re destined for: If you had a better-looking fraternal twin, how would you handle that?

a. I would give them a bowl cut in their sleep. A lot of people can pull off a bowl cut, but they can’t. Now they’re the choppelgänger. [skip to #5]

b. It’s not a problem. There is nothing amiss. I never had a twin (I absorbed them in utero).  [skip to #6]

c. I would just accept it. I’m beautiful on the inside, and that’s what matters. I actually think that everyone is beautiful in their own way. Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. [skip to #4]

3) Congrats! Looks like you’re cut out for continuing your education after college. Let’s figure out which path you might take with another question. How would you handle figuring out that you are actually a large beaver who underwent laser hair removal to look more human and have been raised by a human family as content for a mini docu-series that National Geographic has spent 20 years making?

a. Do I get a cut of the revenue? [skip to #7]

b. THAT’S WHY I’VE BEEN BUILDING DAMS ALL THIS TIME. I THOUGHT I WAS JUST REALLY INTO ARCHITECTURE AND EXPERIENTIAL LEARNING. [skip to #8]

c. I don’t really care that I was lied to, but I’m going to pretend like I do so I can juice these foolish creatures for every penny they’re worth. My tell-all memoir is gonna be called “Who Wood Do Such a Thing: A Beaver’s Truth and a Human’s Lie.” I’m gonna make millions. [skip to #6]

4) Professional virtue-signaling isn’t a career, so I’m gonna ask you to go back to the beginning and try again. [skip to #1]

5) You get ahead by securing comparative advantages through sabotage. You’d make a good doctor. Are you following my logic here? Let me connect the dots. There’s this theory of humor called the superiority theory, which posits that people laugh at the bad luck of others because it makes them feel better about themselves. You ever watched fail videos on YouTube? You’re a bad person. The logic is the same for doctors. They like to treat broken femurs because it makes them feel better about their intact femurs. You can join the club. And, in relation to this week’s question, a lot of doctors work nights. If you aren’t sending emails at 2:14 a.m., you’re probably asleep on the job. To become nocturnal, you need to train. Final answer: irresponsibly timed emails sent to professors might not be a sign of dominance for you, but it’s a necessity if you want to survive in this femur-breaks-femur world. [skip to the end]

6) You’re opportunistic, manipulative and you like money. You’re probably gonna end up being a pretty unpopular and corrupt politician. You’ll probably get your law degree before that and practice for a bit. This means that you’re actually expected to be sending emails at 2:14 a.m. if you want to make partner before you’re 30. Might as well start practicing with your professors in the meantime. Final answer: Irresponsibly timed emails are a sign of dominance for you. [skip to the end]

7) You’re destined for “Shark Tank.” You’re going to be an entrepreneur. Have you ever seen a “Shark Tank” pitch get multiple offers when the inventor came off as desperate? Nope. You’ve gotta learn to be nonchalant. You shouldn’t be sending emails at 2:14 a.m. In fact, you shouldn’t be sending emails at all — that’s nerd behavior. Delete Gmail. Delete Outlook. From now on, you only communicate through the “What’s this for?” section of Venmo requests. [skip to the end]

8) Yeah, sorry, I dunno what to do with you. I don’t know if beavers can even get a job. There might be a way around that, though. Go back to question two and pick option c. It’s your only hope. [skip to #2]

End: Hope this was helpful! Thanks for playing! I look forward to seeing whether you enjoy the career path I’ve forced upon you. Remember, I said something big was coming for “Eva’s Apple #18.” I don’t wanna make any promises I can’t keep, but it’s gonna blow your freaking mind. See you in two weeks. This is Eva, with anticipation, signing off.