Arizona Daily Wildcat
Friday, October 10, 2003
In the spirit of Family Weekend, we thought we'd inflict a little torture on our Wildcat columnists and force them to fess up to their mid-semester misdeeds. It's up to you to decide whether they're bad to the bone or just bluffing. We asked our columnists,
"So what have you done lately (and be honest -)?"
And I'd do it again
First off, I'd like to politely request that my loyal readership (i.e. my mom and dad) overlook this issue, or at least shake their heads and believe I‰m just kidding. Because I totally am, guys. Really.
So here are the things I'd do again if I'd - uh - done any of them in the first place:
Tipping over the bicyclist who nearly ran me over on a crosswalk. Note to all pedestrians: at that velocity, they don't have a prayer of regaining their balance in time.
Cracking completely inappropriate jokes about Christopher Reeves, bless his heart.
Playing with fire on Mt. Lemmon.
Playing with fire and pigeons. That one was a really bad idea. Kids, don't believe for one second that burnt feathers smell like popcorn.
Kidnapping Wilma Wildcat and taking her place undetected for the entirety of the TCU game.
Dancing in a thunderstorm wearing only aluminum foil and duct tape to ground me. This was not idle fun; I was gathering electricity to bring my assembled creature to life. Alas, it was in vain and the project had to be abandoned once it started to attract flies.
Sack-racing on the roof of a certain campus building.
Canoeing down flooded North Park Avenue in a cardboard box, equipped only with a lifejacket, one candy bar and a stuffed animal.
Calling upon the forces of nature to conjure up Hurricane Isabel and widen the hole in the ozone layer. Why did I do this, you may ask? Because Captain Planet is my hero, taking pollution down to zero. This rationale makes no sense to me either.
Celebrating the untimely death of actor John Ritter. Poor bastard.
Laughing aloud when typing the previous line.
And finally, single-handedly saving the pygmy owl population by keeping them in neatly stacked cages in my room. They love fruit snacks, as do I.
Trapped in Arizona Stadium
We had talked about it for weeks, but in late July a friend and I were drunk enough to attempt to break into Arizona Stadium.
Looking to sober up after a long night at the bars, we made our way across campus and right up to the gates.
Now, we were more than a little under the influence, so, after spending 20 minutes scaling a wall, we realized that we were trapped in the maze-like ramps on the west side of the complex. We didn't have access to the field or a plan to get back out.
Add this to an unusual rush of pedestrian traffic near La Paz at 2 a.m., and we were starting to get a little bit worried that we might be spending the night.
It took some creativity, but we managed to break back out of the stadium.
Of course, we weren't yet satisfied. Once we found the right spot, getting to the field was pretty darn easy.
To be honest, I‰m not really sure what the point was. There's not really much to do once you get in there. We mostly just yelled and ran around in the sprinklers, but breaking in got my adrenaline rushing and, for a moment, I felt kind of rebellious.
Red Sox Nation calls, I must go
I have to extend my apologies to my loyal readers - which is at least most of my immediate family. Something has happened that hasn't happened since freshman year and it is consuming me. Right now everything is taking a backseat to the Major League Baseball playoffs: school, writing columns, paying bills - everything.
I really have no choice: I am from Boston and the Red Sox are still playing in October. If you're scratching your head, then you don't understand the magnitude of what has happened and I won't be able to explain it to you here.
Red Sox Nation commands that I watch every inning of every playoff game at the risk of losing my life - or worse, being kicked out and forced to root for - cringe - the Yankees, a fate far worse than death.
Because of this unforeseen obligation this semester, my professors, my editor and, unfortunately, you, the readers of the Wildcat, have to put up with my lack of motivation for anything but watching my beloved Bo-Sox, and it will only get worse as October rolls on.
From now on, instead of finding me working hard or in class, my new daily activities will consist of cracking open a cold one and screaming in jubilation or disgust at the TV.
On the upside, I don't have to worry about what to wear. GO SOX!
What you didn't know about me - or did you?
Here are some things that you might not have known about me:
Freshman year I accidentally set off the Coronado fire alarm. The entire building had to be evacuated at about 2 a.m. - I blamed the whole thing on my roommate.
There was a time when I had too much to drink and decided to jump off the UA high dive in my birthday suit and my new Nike Air Prestos. Luckily I got away from UAPD, thanks to my kicks.
Sometimes I only shower three or four times a week, and have done my laundry only twice in the last month and a half - I know it's repugnant, but time is just too short.
I got a tattoo of a rattlesnake curled around a skull and crossbones on my back when I went to Nogales a couple of weeks ago.
I think Eddie Murphy is the funniest person alive. His movies are hilarious, especially "Coming to America." One time I dressed up as Ed for Halloween.
My favorite movie is "Rocky;" therefore, my favorite girl is Adrienne.
I also opened up an underground casino in my back guesthouse, strictly blackjack - all currencies accepted. I subsequently opened up an offshore bank account in the Grand Cayman Islands to stash my profits - it's all electronic.
Super-senioritis to blame for mixing beer, class
Years ago in high school when I thought about being in college, I figured that there would probably be things I would be caught doing that I couldn't fathom myself doing at that point in time.
Now, halfway through my ninth semester here at the UA, a specific incident has occurred that I hoped would never happen.
I went to class tipsy. Twice.
Sneaking into class under the influence was never something I had ever considered before. Drinking beer inbetween classes seemed to be an act committed solely by other students - specifically those who have no problem focusing during lecture after putting back a couple of cold ones.
But then, the unthinkable happened. I became a super-senior. Coupling that with a two and a half hour break between classes on Friday afternoons has made me realize I have a temperance problem when it comes to being academically productive at the end of the week.
Imagine that it is 3p.m. on an unseasonably hot fall Friday. The warm breeze is flushing students off campus, home and away from the grind of the university educational gears. But not you. Due to some faceless and heartless fall scheduler, you are faced with several choices of how to spend the next couple pre-weekend hours: studying in the library, catching up on reading on the Mall, reviewing for next week's exam or - lazing around at No Anchovies.
Oh sweet Nimbus. The only key to Friday survival.
Good times ahead
I haven't done anything too scandalous so far this semester, but I have great plans for the coming months! There is still plenty of time to do things I wouldn't want my parents to find out about.
I have many friends with 21st birthdays coming up, and I think trips to strip clubs with lots of binge drinking are in order!
Wild parties at my apartment are also in the plans, and they wouldn't be complete without a few exotic dancers.
And what party would be complete without lots of Wildcat people playing lascivious versions of tag and twister?
On a more serious note, getting arrested in a protest rally would be exciting and rewarding - I'd just have to make sure it was for the sake of the cause and not just for the sake of doing it.
I still have yet to go to class drunk - although I'd prefer not to do that on a day when I have a test. But wouldn't that make it more interesting?
Most of all, I plan to turn in lots of Wildcat columns late, since I know how happy that would make my editor as well as my parents.
