A Season of Pretentiousness: TU/TD

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Successfully Staying Dry – The obstacle course loomed before the freshman like a 10-page final he was ridiculously unprepared for. The puddles that arise atop the uneven pavement on Upper when it rains create a treacherous hike from anyone looking to get to their classes from the far side. The freshman laced up his shoes and prepared for a skipping, jumping, and disaster-evasion effort fit for the likes of challenges such as American Ninja Warrior. He glided over massive puddles, his instep finding the small scraps of elevated pavement among the multiple oceans that threatened to ruin his shoes and his day. After one final leap, the freshman found himself on the other side of Kostka by the top of the stairs. His shoes were still dry, and his dignity was still intact. At least for a little while.

Hidden Sadness – The rain is pretty good at masking tears. When you’ve just about had enough with the crap life’s been throwing you lately, and you need to let the waterfalls flow, take a step out into the precipitation and participate in some good old pessimism. No one will know that you’re crying under your already wet face, and you can listen to “Closing Time” by Semisonic in peace.

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Using Summer As A Verb – When I arrived at orientation, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I entered my temporary 8-man room in 90 (perhaps the only chance I’ll have to live in an 8-man) unassuming and excited to meet some of the people I would be spending the next four years with. My peers and I engaged in casual conversation, where we’re from, what we planned to study, what we wanted to get involved in, the usual. One person explained that she was California, but didn’t have to drive too far to arrive at campus for orientation. Understandably confused, I inquired as to why this was. “Oh, I summer in Cape Cod,” she said casually, as if uttering such a phrase was just as normal as anything else she could have said in the moment. Her words hit me like a shovel. I was so taken aback. I had never heard the season of summer be used as a verb. To me, the verb “to summer” encompasses the unforgiving and unrelenting pretentiousness that pervades Boston College. I could hear the dollars pouring out of her mouth and hitting the floor as she spoke. There is nothing wrong with having wealth, but to alter a noun into a verb to make sure everyone knows that you have enough money to pick up and spend your entire summer at a different house or property is seriously asking for people to resent you. When you don outfits worth more than this school’s yearly tuition, are you “Guccing?” When you hop in your expensive foreign car, are you “Bentleying?” When you fly to Europe just in time for dinner, are you “Parising?” And when you return home, are you “mansioning?” I still cannot get over this gross reappropriation.

Featured Image by Meg Dolan / Heights Editor

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