On Parties.

How do I possibly summarize my feelings towards parties at the fair university of SCULA? I'm sure they're much like parties at other universities, and I guess that's the problem. I'm just not fond of the whole ordeal in general: the music is always too loud, the people you want to see always too elusive, and the alcohol always rank. As Hildy Johnson put it as we walked around the Grove last night, "the thing about college parties is that they're dishearteningly like high-school parties." I cannot agree more. You expect college to provide moments of levity, of polite conversation over some drinks, even possible intensely cerebral discussions in some dark, huddled corner of a neglected apartment. The thing is that everyone works themselves so hard (well, comparatively so) that all anyone wants to do at one of these parties is drink until they can't remember their own name. For those of us who drink less than the usual college student, this overreliance on alcohol in all its forms can lead us into a disheartening and depressing party environment. There are, however, those occasional moments of levity. Observe tonight's party, a ridiculous display if there ever was one--

Depressing moment: I head back to my bathroom to find that someone has written "No Tampons?" on my mirror with toothpaste. The culprit has also spit on my toothbrush. I spend the next twenty minutes cleaning both.

Moment of levity: I head downstairs to the opening strains of "Hey Ya!" For the next three minutes and change, our group seems to be as happy and close as ever before. Suddenly, it's the best moments of this apartment's last eighteen months all shoved into one space.

My spirits raise until the next song starts, and I am clocked in the head by an overeager frat boy determined to show his love for 50 Cent. As I land on the floor, I could swear I was back on Amsterdam Avenue, as awkward and ostracized as I ever have been. Hey, at least there was the intervening moment this time.