The List

A friend of mine dug up an old list of personal jokes from the college years and sent a scanned version around to our friends. I didn’t go on the particular trip, opting for a Spring Break in the Bahamas instead of Florida because it's a foreign country and you can get a passport stamp. But the list brought much hilarity none-the-less.

What was odd about my friend posting this list, was not that she posted it, not that she still had it, but that I had been talking about other lists my group of friends made a few days before.

We were out to dinner with friends and were discussing nicknames for co-workers. While I'm sure in my highly social first job out of college I also had nicknames for my co-workers, I have no recollection of any nicknames or even of the act of plotting nicknames with friends. I'm sure I was too busy talking trash about the girl with inappropriate cleavage or the guy whose office always smelled like a fart.

All I could contribute to the nickname conversation was The List. The List is a 4-page, double-sided list of 101 nicknames assigned to GW students by my friends and I in 1995. It is a wonder to behold.

Many names from the list I recall to this day. Half and Half Eye shadow Girl. Guido in the Morning. Rabbinic Turtle.

The list was broken into groups of friends to make sure we didn’t forget anyone. We put stars next to the names of the boys we liked.

My friends and I were fond of documenting things - nicknames, party invite lists, personal jokes. And I'm glad we did. Without our gnarled notebook papers and paper plates, our college years may have been lost. And who would ever want to forget FChinring?

I Wore My Sunglasses At Night

I was walking to lunch yesterday, and found myself fighting a sea of youths in graduation caps and gowns. When I got to Radio City Music Hall, I noticed that the marquee was congratulating the 2008 class of FIT. So congratulations class of 2008. Go and knit me a cardigan.

The graduates all looked pretty unremarkable, aside from the fact that there were 10s of people in caps and gowns walking down a busy Manhattan street during the lunch rush. I really expected more originality from you, FIT.

This got me to thinking about my own college graduation, where I wanted to make a statement. And that statement was "yes, I am very hungover."

1999 was the spring of the colored sunglass. You may recall a technicolor season of yellow, blue, purple, and even orange lenses surrounded by geeky black frames. You don't? Well then you must not have known me then.

I had sunglasses in every color of the rainbow. And I rotated them throughout the week. Probably to match my outfit.

My college photo albums are pockmarked with garish sunglasses of every color. There is even a shot of me and my girlfriends at a fraternity formal all wearing the sunglasses. Really? Was I that cool?

If memory serves, I chose yellow for my graduation. Perhaps because yellow is one of the GW colors. Perhaps to match my then poorly-dyed hair. Perhaps as an homage to my pending alcohol-induced jaundice.

But regardless of the reason, those glasses personify my graduation day. All the pomp and circumstance. The joy of riding the cusp of adulthood. Spending time with family and best friends that I still have today.

I had some good times in those hideous shades. So thank you, Urban Outfitters. Thank you for letting me see my end-of-college-days through rose colored glasses. (cue string quartet)