Allie Curry

For the first Senior Wisdom on this Commencement Day, we bring you the wonderful Allie Curry, senior editor at The Blue and White.

Name, Hometown, School: Allie Curry; Bismarck, North Dakota; Columbia College

Claim to fame? I like words. Acquaintances most often call me out for arguing against Helen, that yes, you should tap that. 

n.b.: I was right.

Where are you going?  “Avenue of the Americas” and the early 50s by way of Bed-Stuy. I started work three weeks ago—does that mean I’ve already arrived? Also: since when do people pay me for my hard work? Asking for a friend.

Three things you learned at Columbia:

  1. Conversational French/Spanish/Poststructuralist (literary) theory
  2. Television can be intelligent.
  3. Irony is a mechanism by which my friends and I deflect or diminish our our own emotions—which are TERRIFYING, but also mean something, and therefore, should be trusted.

Back in my day… Swine Flu was a thing and people listened to music featuring acoustic instruments. Trader Joe’s on 72nd didn’t exist, the distinction between leggings and pants was so much clearer, and WE DIDN’T KNOW THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT SEASON. I’VE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE: HISTORY IS PROGRESSIVE, GUYS!!!!

Justify your existence in 30 words or fewer: I find James Franco’s handshake weak.

Write a CU Admirers post to anyone or anything at Columbia: @AjayChaudhary and students of CC, section 54: I was dumb not to say anything in class for like most of the year, because you guys actually changed my life. And I didn’t even get the Star Trek references. Radiohead, though.

Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? Cheese. NEXT.

One thing to do before graduating: Give yourself a deadline of two weeks. Enlist no more than three or four friends and dedicate your underage selves, earnestly, to finishing at least half of a box of Franzia each in those two weeks. Acceptable applications: V-Show, Bacchanal, Club Butler (“New York’s hottest club is…”) and your term paper, John Jay, etc.

Any regrets? Oh my god, I have a million regrets, very few of which are worth articulating in the space of this post. Trite, but I should have made several friends sooner; I should have drank more; I should have shat on the Upper Midwest less. Since we’re on the subject, as of late, I’ve been repping Joan Didion’s Slouching Towards Bethlehem hard. By way of oversharing “On Keeping a Notebook”, I think she’s right:

“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were.”

Remember your past selves, allow for change, and make your memories with others. Best of luck, guys.