Arizona Daily Wildcat
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Staff columnists took a break from their schedules to dream up desires for gifts. You can decide whether they've been naughty or nice.
The time is ripe for a simple request
Last semester, in a letter to the editor that sparked my, ahem, writing career, I noted that the use of Juicy pants had sharply declined. Remember the tight, sexy pants that the women of the UA would wear that had that special, magical word "Juicy" emblazoned the back?
What happened? Like Peter, Paul and Mary, I ask: Where have all the Juicy pants gone (long time passing)?
It is once again time to heed the call. Renew the pledge. Go for the gusto. Harness the sunrise. Inherit the wind. Buy the pants.
Perhaps the campus was too distracted by the women's sunglasses debate. Perhaps the campus was too distracted by Jed Smock.
But there is no excuse now. The sunglasses debate is dead - unfortunately, much like the world's ugliest dog. Yeah, he passed away Wednesday. I grieve for him, I really do.
But that is beside the point. My intention is not to rekindle the fires of the sunglasses debate. This is not about some pseudo-perversion. This is a legitimate request. Juicy pants are once again economically viable. Gas prices have gone down. Wages have gone up.
This spring, I admonish the women of Arizona to come back rested, come back ready and come back clad in Juicy. No more Ugg boots. No more gaucho pants - only Juicy.
There is a direct correlation between the lack of Juicy pants and the UA's precipitous slip in Playboy's rankings of colleges with the best-looking women. Seriously, we're behind Florida and the ignominious Arizona State University. We can do better. Juicy pants are the solution. I know they're on my wish list for the holidays.
Alan Eder is a senior in majoring in political science and Spanish who does not work for Juicy but is a fashion connoisseur. He can be reached at email@example.com.
Things no one should say
I was 12 the last time I made a Christmas wish list. There were three items on it, one of which was an electric toothbrush. So, obviously, these things aren't my forte. And, quite frankly, I don't think you're going to even get me anything anyway. So, rather than a list of presents that I won't receive, here is my "Wish List of the Three Things I Want People to Stop Saying." If my Christmas wishes come true, these are the phrases I'll never have to hear again:
"No offense, but"... This phrase can be translated: "Please brace yourself, for I am about to say something offensive to you." Really, if you're going to insult someone, at least keep the element of surprise on your side.
"I was sooooo drunk/wasted/bombed/obliterated this weekend" ... No offense, but no one who has completed seventh grade is impressed. Though this phrase is potentially acceptable as a lead-in to an actual story, it will never qualify on its own as something worth sharing.
"L-O-L:" I cannot even fathom what would compel someone to utter this aloud. The first time I heard someone actually say it, I assumed it was a real word that I just didn't know. But, upon discovering that the dictionary has no entry for "ellooell," the cold, hard truth set in. People are actually commenting on whether they are indeed laughing while in the presence of a person who can actively hear if they are or not. The insanity is compounded by eliding this phrase into an acronym, as though saving time in expressing possibly the most superfluous sentiment ever is a priority. Hearing it spoken makes M-S-C-A-L (My Soul Cry A Little).
So, that's it. Just three little things I don't want to hear anymore. God bless us, every one.
Lori Foley is a senior majoring in English and French. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Resolutions for the holidays
This year I have many New Year's resolutions, many too impossible to place into words and others not fit for the public eye. I have therefore decided to place resolutions on the minds and plates of my UA brethren. When I wake up, the New Year upon me, I hope that these people have adhered to my words and decided to make their lives for the better:
I (pedestrians of the UA) resolve to not walk in the bike paths across campus. Although I see the idiocy of me walking on this great "Arizona Trail," I could just as easily move to my given sidewalk and save myself the hassle of removing a 10-speed or beach cruiser from my backside.
I (chain smokers) resolve to move away from the building entrances while smoking. Although I understand that the quick steps to the 50-foot state-mandated distance may wind me severely, I will respect the other zealots of knowledge and not make a bad name for the rest of the brothers of the leaf.
I (girls of gaucho pants) resolve to forever box up my flowy pant/skirt of the gaucho persuasion. I will make this sacrifice, against my best fashion sense, and will reserve the billowing pants for jiujitsu and kendo. I will therefore buy stock in the always flattering and underrated yoga pants, the most attractive of the sweatpant species.
I (collar popper) resolve to leave the collar in its respectable position. Unlike table trays and airplane seats, I understand collars are not best worn in the upright position. I will wear my collar appropriately as the instructions permit and will sport my alligator or moose with pride.
And with these simple resolutions, we will all enter 2006 with a smile and a light step.
Mike Morefield is a political science senior. He can be reached at email@example.com.
Cookies, rent and world peace
I wrote you letters once, when I was small, detailing the simple desires of my 6-year-old heart. I inquired after your wife, your reindeer and of course, those helpful elves. I expressed the hope that you would enjoy the fresh-baked cookies left on the coffee table for your delight. These days, I'm afraid you won't find your reception quite as accommodating. The apartment's been out of milk for a few days, my mother's cookie recipes are hundreds of miles away, and my requests aren't so simple anymore.
You've been quite the marvel in past years, sir, delivering mounds of books, doll accessories galore, art supplies, science kits and a few more books thrown in for good measure. You'd think I'd have a list a mile long these days, living the life of a poor student and all. An iPod Nano, maybe, or an Xbox 360? Perhaps next month's rent? A lifetime supply of free gasoline could be just the thing. I'd really love if you would put me through graduate school or get me an "A" in that Spanish class, and frankly, a trip to Europe would be quite lovely. The answers to all of life's questions, the secret to love and happiness, success, money, fame and saving the earth, all within your grasp, right?
But when it comes down to it, we've got it pretty good here, as college students, poor or otherwise. Maybe all I'll ask for is some solid sleep and a week or two without a due date or deadline. Perhaps a home-cooked meal or two. But after that, maybe you could look into that whole world peace thing?
Ella Peterson is a creative writing junior. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
A presidential wish list
It's high drama in ASUA nowadays as the whole show has turned into a circus act. It looks like there's a high probability we're going to see a new president quite soon, so let's make a Santa's wish list.
As always, we want someone who will not blow the importance of the Associated Students of theUniversity of Arizona out of proportion. It's a voice for students with some money to waste, not the other half of President Peter Likins.
If you propose a Spanish anguage Arizona Daily Wildcat, you will automatically receive a negative endorsement. CatCards on University Boulevard? An "F" for originality and a negative endorsement for no research.
Ass grabbing is strictly prohibited, and so is bullshitting.
The easiest solution to all this? A woman. There hasn't been a woman in far too long, and there are qualified ones out there, so why not now?
Sara Birnbaum, former vice president, would have done a good job. Stephanie Hartz, the former senator and equally qualified little sister of Doug Hartz, would too.
Santa, I know there are so many others out there asking for girls for Christmas, but please, I really don't think you want the words "penis" and "ASUA" in the same article again.
Or what about waxing nostalgic and asking for Alistair Chapman or the elder Hartz (with a careful omission in between)?
No seriously, all I want for Christmas is someone in ASUA who doesn't try to say solar power is cost efficient. Someone who doesn't make poor decisions like giving only single tickets to basketball games when a half-season of two tickets is so much better. Someone who can actually comment on whether someone was fired or not.
If only Nathan Bell had made it past the primaries.
Ryan Johnson is a senior majoring in economics and international studies. He can be reached email@example.com.