By Earnest Eleanor, Staff Satirist
With only four weeks of school left, I thought my Scrippsie self would be done for the year. In fact, aside from finals, I had entered that amazing period of the calm before the storm that tricks me into believing that the end of the year work won’t be too bad.
It is this calm before the storm that caused me to fall into a lazy slump, not bothering to read through my homework this week–skimming would have to do. It was only as I was sun bathing on the lawn that I remembered one of the most important events of the year was happening on the 5Cs the very next day: 24 Hour Party.
The answer to my dreams—24 hours of a party that was meant to be lazy: sitting in the almost-summer sun, going steady all day. I settled back onto my towel to dream of a weekend wasted away in Claremont when I heard my roommate’s very distinctive footsteps. I didn’t bother to open my eyes until she plopped down beside me.
“Are you going to Club Two300 this weekend?” she asked me, opening her Econ textbook. I bolted upright, brightness glaring in my eyes.
I had suddenly realized twenty-four hours of bliss also meant one painful decision: Club Two300 at Mudd or 24 Hour Party at CMC.
The 24 Hour Party is a tradition, one weekend I always put aside to enjoy myself. But it always falls on the same night as Club Two300. And how can I resist one of Mudd’s most lavish parties? They even bring in a decent DJ and the entertainment of random dancers with furry boots and little else.
My decision came down to: one of Mudd’s best or one of CMC’s best? I wondered whether the furry go-go boots would be preferable to the drunken delirium of North Quad at 2 p.m. Random, heel-wearing people bruising the bones of my feet? Or a lawn chair in the sun? Too hard to choose.
Turning back to my roommate, I could barely muster a single sound in response to her question about my weekend party plans. I let out a pathetic whimper.
“But...24 Hour Party,” I finally managed, unable to contain my pain and frustration. She shrugged and turned back to her supply curves.
“Both?” she suggested.
I contemplated what going to both parties would entail. It would take careful planning: a complicated drink-eat schedule, tightly enforced to allow for maximum sobriety during dinner (you know all those drunken dinner-goers you laugh at every year when the 24 Hour Party comes around? I don’t want to be one of them) and a complex consideration of what outfits to wear and when to change (like I’d wear the same outfit to both Mudd and CMC). Yes, it would be complicated. To ensure maximum party- going enjoyment, I would have to worry about every little detail. But I am an ambitious Scripps woman, and I always like a challenge.
And so it was decided. We Scrippsies do homework all day and all night. So this weekend, in a haze of glory and greatness, I rode the gentle waves in the calm before the storm.
It's a tough life Scripps, it really is.