Claim to Fame? I convinced everyone on The Eye, Spec’s magazine, to pose naked one time. They still let me run the damn thing, which indicates just how crazy everyone at Spec really is.
Where are you going? I’m staying right here! For a little while, at least. I’m working at The New Yorker on their annual festival.
Three things you learned at Columbia:
- Both sarcasm AND machismo-style overconfidence are tools used by the cowardly, and show nothing about your intelligence. Sincerity and humility are underrated.
- Don’t read the comments.
- If you’re low on cash and hungry, buy a Junior Maoz and eat it in the restaurant. Fill it with salad, eat the salad, repeat (but don’t let them see you!). When you’re semi-full, finally eat the falafel and pita. Done. Full for the day.
“Back in my day…” Spectrum was going to be called “The Dial,” happy hour margaritas at The Heights were only $4, and there was a great little diner on 108th and Broadway called West Way Cafe. RIP.
Justify your existence in 30 words or less: One of my suitemates is a Fulbright scholar, one’s going to Harvard Med, and one’s going to Teach for America. My existence is justified by association with theirs.
Is the War on Fun over? Who won? Any war stories? I went to 40s on 40, but they ran out of sippy cups which made me really mad. Maybe it was I who lost the War on Fun.
Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? My mom pulled me out of pre-school because everything they served for snack had cheese on it. I refused to eat any of it, and what is pre-school really but glorified snack time?
I’m convinced that as a precocious 3-year-old, I knew this Bwog question would one day be asked of me. (Which is even more impressive than knowing that someday the Internet would exist.) And that a life-long distaste for cheese would absolve me from a raunchy answer that would keep me from getting a job one day.
Actually whatever. I’ll keep oral sex, please.
Advice for the class of 2016: Not sure how qualified I am to give advice to freshmen, since I didn’t even go here freshman year, but:
- Forgive yourself. College may not be everything you imagined, and that’s OK. Hell, I transferred here from a place where I was very, very unhappy. Things turned out all right.
- Join a group of people you like and commit most of your time to it: fraternity, cultural club, publication, whatever. It will make the difference. Some people find their best friends on their freshman year floor, but most don’t.
- The city will do for you what Columbia can’t. Spend time alone getting to know this place and how it works.
Any regrets: I wish I could have met more of you awesome people while I was here, but alas, the curse of the transfer. Other than that, nothing really!