Based on The New York Times’ “Metropolitan Diaries,” the Middletown Diaries features awkward, funny, novel, or sweet anecdotes, stories, and memories that happen at Wesleyan and in Middletown. To submit to the Middletown Diaries, please email email@example.com.
Since I’ve been on campus, I’ve navigated many of the typical first-year problems, like finding my classes and figuring out how to manage doing all my chores by myself. One thing I never imagined I would struggle with so much is getting drinks from the dining hall.
Too many times have I gone to Usdan and gotten a drink, only to leave disappointed. I’ve gotten Sprite that turned out to be seltzer, apple juice that turned out to be water, and iced tea that was more sugar than anything else. Yet, because of my laziness, I wouldn’t get up to get a new drink. I would just sit there, defeated, drinking whatever mystery drink came out of the machine that day. I would swish it around in the cup while my friends laughed at my suffering.
Sometimes things don’t turn out how you expected them to, but that isn’t always a bad thing. I know that when I showed up on move-in day, I had a vision in my mind of what college would be like. Now, being here as a real college student a few weeks later, I realized I was wrong. Not necessarily in a good or bad way, I was just wrong.
Maybe it was the universe telling me I needed to drink more water. Maybe I needed the sugar high from that iced tea so I could finish my assignments that night. Maybe the machine just wasn’t working properly and I’m overanalyzing my situation.
Anyway, I’ve learned my lesson now, so hopefully the universe can just let me get the drink that I want.
There’s nothing quite like being completely immersed in a moment.
Hold up. Not completely. Because there’s truly nothing like looking behind you to see a person sporting only a sock as clothing, head to toe in body paint, dancing their heart out.
As you can probably guess where I’m going with this, I went to WestCo’s first disco of the year this weekend. The theme? Anything But Clothes. In order to prepare for this foray into the depths of the hippie underbelly of Wesleyan, I spent most of my Friday after Italian class crocheting my halter top out of borrowed trash bags. I, of course, was not the only one engaging in creative pursuits for the sake of this event—many others worked hard to pull off looks that would demonstrate both their creativity and sex drive. Trash bags were popular mediums, along with tote bags, paint, and tape. Some of my favorite looks of the night? A dress constructed from copies of the Argus which I helped to assemble. And an Eno Hammock.
As the night bore on and people started vomiting in Wild Wes, the WestCo disco was shut down around midnight. Although I don’t know why, I do know it was beautiful to see all of the people flooding out of the WestCo cafe, steam flowing off of them in visible clouds. To Wesleyan: Let’s get naked again soon.
Last week was an exciting time on campus for me. I was finally settled into my room, my classes were off to a good start, and Tuesday was election day.
Although I don’t see myself as a political junkie, I am always super excited for election days, no matter the scale. This excitement largely stems from the fact that at home, I feel like I have no vote. As a Washington D.C. native, I can vote on local politics, but when it comes to national elections, we have one non-voting representative and no senators. Talk about taxation without representation.
Not to mention, D.C. is very left-leaning, so no matter how I do vote, it usually has very little effect on election results.
But here in Connecticut, my vote can matter. Even though Tuesday’s election was local, I still got up that morning excited, bragging to my friends how I was going to perform my civic duty.
As soon as my neuro class let out at 11:40 a.m., I marched across Andrus Field toward Fayerweather Hall. As I checked in with the ladies in front, they immediately asked if I was a student and were a bit surprised when the answer was yes. I was surprised that not many Wes students were registered to vote in Connecticut.
I made my way upstairs, where I was given a ballot. A mere two minutes later, my vote was cast, I was handed the typical “I Voted Today” sticker, and that was it.
Even though it was a bit anticlimactic, I was happy to find out later that the person I had voted for won.
Until the next election.