the only thing worse
than bad memories
is no memories at all..
[dismemberment plan]
4.20.2003
A Super Cornell Weekend
Well.
So I left for Cornell up in Ithaca, NY with Jordan on Friday.
We made good time and got there in about 4 hours..
Which is amazing compared to my dad's 7 hour driving bonanza last summer.
We arrived at about noon, and just wandered around for a good long while.
On the "Dorm Tour," we checked out the standard cells..
Tiny, dark, very confining.
Just like every other college I'd visited up until that point.
There's also some dorms with themes.
Some are "foreign" dorms, where you only speak a foreign language, another is for art students..
Jordan and I got to see the "Jam" dorm, which is for music students.
And by "music students," I mean "black people."
I feel bad for the one inevitable loser suburbanite who was duped into signing up for the Jam dorm, crying into his pillow at night, listening to NIN (and wishing he were Trent Reznor, quipped Jordan).
They must have some craaaazy parties there, though, because their economy sized garbage can was filled to the brim with empty bottles of Smirnoff Ice.
Tee hee. :D
We later met up with Saleem, a current Cornell freshman, who was flying kites for the Bhangra club.
It was awesome seeing him.
Saleem graduated high school a year earlier than the rest of us.. bastard.
So we went out for dinner together.
The food: ALL YOU CAN EAT.
ORGASMIC.
Over the course of the two full hours we spent stuffing our faces , we consumed the following:
Mongolian stirfry
Rice
Fortune cookies
Pasta
Pancakes
Tuna melt
Fries
Pizza
Frozen yogurt
Ice cream cones
Cherry pie
Chocolate cake
Mocha cake
All in mass quantities.
It was beautiful.
The remainder of the night was squandered on just chilling, getting to know Leemy's peeps.
Then.
THE BHANGRA PARTY.
I have never witnessed so many Indian people smashed into one tiny room with a Foosball table in my entire life.
So much cheap wine, laptop speakers blasting out a hybrid of Indian music and subwoofer thuds.
Everyone felt the need to pick Jordan and me out of the crowd, ask us who we are, where we're from, and demanded that we Bhangra-dance.
I can't Bhangra dance!!!!
There I was, sitting at the table and minding my own business, deliberately not making eye contact with anyone..
Hell no, I will not Bhangra dance with you.
I was telling myself that being a self-appointed mopey wallflower would not be conducive to me having a good time.
But screw that.
I WAS NOT GOING TO BHANGRA DANCE.
So I continued to sit, shrugging off the hands that kept trying to pull me into the disastrous crowd, barely breathing in the hot, humid room with what seemed to be countless sweaty Indian people Bhangra dancing to the incessant, deafening music as the second hand on my watch seemed to tick backwards..
Saleem, for all I know, had the time of his life.
It's just not my scene, I guess.
The night spent on Saleem's floor was alright.
I woke up the earliest, I think, around 7:45am.
I guess my circadian rhythm is pretty solid, after years of my dad waking me up at 6am with a broomstick.
Hee hee.
I went into the hall bathroom, flipped on the lights..
My eyes were COMPLETELY bloodshot.
It looked like I was on the verge of crying blood.
Whoah.. Guess I needed some more sleep.
So I finally woke up at almost 1 in the afternoon.
I grabbed some breakfast with Jordan at another all-you-can-eat place.
This time wasn't so bad.. I made some waffles, and Jordan was rocking his Passover diet.
Some ugly, dirty-ass, neo-hippy girl with long, disgusting, blonde hair was hogging the ice cream scooper.
She was bent over the little freezer box, reaching down to get to the ice cream bin at the very bottom.
Not only did she have a vomit-inducing caboose, her dirty hair was getting into the ice cream!!!
Yeah, I skipped the ice cream that morning.
We hit a few more stops before making it home, again, in record time.
The main observations I made about Cornell University:
1. No hot chicks. Seriously, damn.
If I were a guy, my cock would have withered off, and my balls would have cowered in fear.
All of the girls were disgusting pseudo hippies, big-butted beasts, or asian anorexics.
Where were the hot, big boobied, blonde sorority babes?
Obviously, not at Cornell.
The guys were even worse.
I classified them as GLB's.. or "Goofy Looking Bastards."
2. Goofy Looking Bastards. The guys were either:
Disproportionate asians (big fat head, little body) with high tube socks, slim cut jeans, a bowlcut, humongous puffy basketball sneakers in weird colors, and backpacks worn up close to their necks,
Washed out pseduo-hippies (similar to the female variety indicated above), or
Ithaca hicks.
3. Impending Suicides If you haven't already heard, despite the administration's denials, Cornell has a pretty high suicide rate.
It's notorious for it's bridge across a waterfall..
Many students realize they can't stand it any longer and jump to their watery graves.
Upon meeting many of Cornell's undergraduate students, I saw that they, too, looked like they would be much more happy dead.
Also, upon meeting these students, I myself found that I would rather wish death upon myself than join them in this school.
All of them had sunken, dull eyes from what I imagine to be an unhealthy study:sleep ratio.
"Cooooome to Cornelllll" they beckoned, with their bony, zombie fingers.
Misery loves company.
They were trying to suck me into their black hole!
To the point of no return!
Sorry.
Don't get me wrong, Saleem definitely showed me a good time at his school, and I know that there's a lot to be proud of there.
But it's just not a place where I want to spend the next four years of my life.
I'd rather shoot myself in the face and have millions of people Bhangra-dancing on my grave, blasting Punjabi MC from their laptop speakers.
[Peek-a-Foo]