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As I get ready to graduate-in the middle of a month-long existential crisis over what the hell I am going to do with my life post-Duke-I figure my last column is as good a time as ever to reflect upon all my accomplishments during my tenure at this institution. Pardon the cliche.
At the end of your time as an undergrad, the Duke Annual Fund-the primary mechanism responsible for University fundraising-will ask each senior to give a gift of around $20 ($20.08 for this year and $20.09 for those graduating in 2009, etc.).
There are a few well-known graduation requirements that kids at Duke are always gossiping about. We have all heard of climbing Baldwin, having sex in the stacks, visiting the tunnels under East, eating mushrooms in the gardens and driving the wrong way around the West Campus circle.
That's right. I said it.
With the backdrop of a disastrous war and a spiraling recession that is making every econ major soil their pants (my condolences to anyone with an offer from Bear Sterns), the general population of our great U.S.-of-A needs a wonderful story to keep its ridiculously simple mind occupied.
Electronics hate me. And I am starting to hate them.
Three weeks ago, unbeknownst to me, ABC's local affiliate, WTVD, decided to run a short piece investigating (so they claim) the apparent "controversy" surrounding my column addressed to "Armed Durham Residents."
For the first three years of my college career, if you wanted to go to a blowout party, you were pretty much stuck with the greeks.
Ah, St. Valentine's Day. You are indeed the double-sided dildo of American holidays-pretty much guaranteed to screw everyone.
When the dust settled three Sundays ago, and it was established that the New York football Giants would be the team charged with the daunting task of defeating the New England "team-of-destiny" Patriots, I vowed I would not watch this year's Super Bowl.
The day I was alerted that I would have a weekly column this semester I also received an e-mail from Elliott Wolf. As you probably know, Wolf wrote every Thursday last semester. His message was simple and sarcastic: "Enjoy being the only weekly people," with a smiley face added for effect.
Dear Armed Durham Residents:
If I haven't made it clear in earlier columns, my parents do not necessarily "approve" of certain lifestyle choices I make.
Hot damn! It's good to be back.
This week I had a wonderfully hilarious column all written and ready to go. It was also wildly controversial and, despite my best efforts at self-censorship, the damn thing was still too hot for TV. Unfortunately, although probably for the better, the Chronicle editors emphatically and swiftly vetoed that work of genius.
It was just after a quarter past four in the afternoon a couple Sundays ago and I was sitting on my back patio with a good friend of mine-a fellow senior. As we allowed our minds to wind down at the close of another fun-filled weekend, our conversation drifted toward the usual post-marathon banter. Namely, booze, drugs and sex.
About a month ago I received an e-mail from a Duke alum named Matt Ivester. I didn't know the kid when he went here, although with a little research I do know he was the one-time president of Sig Ep fraternity in '03-'04, if that is at all relevant.
Monday: I really wanted to write a column that actually pertained to Duke. Unfortunately, my family just got the "reverse 911" call to evacuate northern San Diego because the witch fire was spreading west. Needless to say, that's the only thing that's on my mind right now.
So you think you have family problems?
One thing I have come to realize about Duke over the years is that some times, you just need to get the hell out of Dodge. If I stay here long enough in succession, I seem to forget that life at a small, elite private university is hardly reality.
