Epiphanies

1) It takes precisely two drinks to get me drunk (French Majors Drinking Night finally happened).

2) Drunkenness leads, in my case, to drunken blogging.

3) I have one last Maroon column to write, like, ever, unless my future career is "Freelance Maroon Columnist" in which case I can look forward to a lifetime of 35-cent diet Coke, secondhand smoke, and chasing vermin from a basement office in Ida Noyes.

4) A girl in the elevator at the Reg this evening asked me if I'd gone to Stuyvesant, because, well, she had. This I think I already knew, but whatever, I said yes, and made some oh-so-witty comment about how the Stuy kids seemed to gravitate to the Reg, then proceeded to park myself and gossip and blog and, err, study, by which I mean read all about what the NYT has to say about class, which I felt all classy-like reading while eating peanut butter M&Ms and drinking Ex Libris coffee. Somehow I think to read the NYT/class Homerian epic it helps to be making like $1,000,000,000 a year and wearing jeans that come from somewhere other than Filenes (mine fit well, but the streaks are weird weird weird), in which case the appropriate sighs can be ahhed and checks can be written. Just a thought.

5) My snack situation is pathetic. My Co-op boycott ended, sort of, but I'm ready to reinstate it. After the Romance Languages BBQ (will it be barbequed pate? Discuss.) I'm making a trip to Whole Foods and Gap Kids (to replace the horrors that Filenes have wrought). Bartlett, meanwhile, is a disgrace. Now that I'm out of Flex, I have to pay cash (how's that for a piece on Class) which is so not worth it, I'm a French major not an econ major for Christ's sake, and what's with the tiny shrimps falling into the tofu?! It's really hard for those of us who were raised pseudo-kosher (because obviously those who were raised real-kosher wouldn't be delving into the Asian Station with such vigor, but...yeah), so what I ate last night had like five different species in it, not counting whichever insects and/or rodents may have found their way in...so yeah, time for Whole Foods and some children's clothing. Right.

6) I've decided to get rid of my fear of semi-autobiographical fiction and finally do what I've been meaning to all these years, which is to write the Great Stuyvesant Novel. I have a TON of material (and yes, if you know me, you should be calling your lawyers right about now...I kid, I kid!) and had better do something with it before it falls into the abyss.

7) I have this clementine box I for some reason decided to save. Why? What future purpose was it supposed to serve?

8) I graduate on June 11, I think. How much cheese (in lbs., please) should I buy at Whole Foods tomorrow?

9) I have to do an oral presentation for Hebrew next week. I was thinking of giving my BA oral defense in Hebrew, but then it occured to me that I do not, in fact, wish to put an early end to my classmates' lives, so perhaps an alternative is in order. One option is to cook for the class (something other than Bartlett Asian Station, I'm thinking, what with the mini-shrimps), so I might go with that. Any ideas? Falafel would be hard to make in a classroom in Cobb. Maybe crepes, with a portable burner-thingy, and I could say it's symbolic of French Jewry, a population that, what with Israel's existence, ought not to be around in the first place, at least according to certain folks who write about these things? Eh. Face it, Hebrew 101, you'll be hearing ALL about Bernard Lazare and Captain Dreyfus next week, so make sure you eat (and drink) something beforehand.

10) I think I'm graduating from college. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!! As shocked as I am that I passed Tennis-For-The-Obese-And-Chainsmokers-And-Random-Unathletic-People-Named-Phoebe as well as Astrophysics-For-Cretins, that's how it's looking. So now, when the people from the Times Class Department come to interview me, I can say I'm a part of the Educated Classes. Of course, as a non-econ major, I have trouble making sense of their 3D interactive feature, the one that's supposed to tell you that judges are worse than lawyers who are better than professors or some such revelation, but regardless, assuming I didn't accidentally forget the Core Curriculum or something, I'm so totally done it's not even funny.