Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue

Being a senior on the school's humor magazine means that I'm supposed to do something spectacular and out there for my final article.  I was thinking witty critique on a bunch of the stuff that's wrong/still wrong/newly wrong on campus (my freshmen year the big sport was Ultimate Frisbee- now it's BEAN BAGS).  But I was only occasionally feeling bitter enough to be really full of good ideas (although it's been days since the Director of NCC's Wellness Center opened my e-mail on "Why does NCC flood its students with cheap, brightly colored condoms and then refuse to fill birth control prescriptions when there's a full MD on staff? and she still hasn't gotten back to me).  This all changed.  In the past 2 hours.

Things were going okay with my group project, despite the other 2 people getting their papers done 5 days later than we agreed.  Some of the filled-out surveys we're analyzing were SPECTACULARLY stupid but hey, things happen.

NCC's Students for African-American Brotherhood had a fantastic yearly dinner last night (to which the President of the group hand-delivered my invitation- whoo for connections!) and a friend of mine from the library was unanimously elected to their Executive Board.  I *heart* Heaven on Seven catering.

I've only received one unpleasant message about my letter to the editor.  The winter issue of the Kindling came out yesterday and so far no one's posted hate mail and 2 students behind me are giggling over the departmental pick-up lines that one of my freshmen friends collected.  Things seemed to be good.

Then I went to lunch today.  Oh NCC, what have you gotten yourself into?  The whole cafeteria was plastered with beach/tropical themes and covered in signs.  Lots and lots of signs.  The theme?  "BE YOUR OWN LIFEGUARD."  The advice?  Don't drink too many drinks an hour.  Eat a lot while you're drinking.  Drink a lot of non-alcoholic drinks because sun, sea water, and alcohol are all dehydrating.  Don' t drink in hot tubs; you might pass out.  Don't play on hotel balconies or lean on railings.  I wish I was making this up!! 

The most numerous sign, second only to the humongous life guard banner, was "MAKE IT FUN.  MAKE IT SAFE.  MAKE IT HOME."  Uh, sure.

They were also, of course, having giveaways.  You could either get a bottle insulator shaped like a t-shirt and colored in a gaudy Hawaiian print or a baggie of sun supplies, such as lip balm and sunscreen.  Never one for turning down Chapstick, I took the bag without asking any questions and tried not to laugh at the t-shirts the "Safe Spring Break Campaign" people had made up for the event.

But now, having written this, and having spent a period of time in the brightly decorated cafeteria after taking the little white lunch bag, I'm starting to get suspicious.  And skeptical.  And paranoid.  What is in the bag??

Hmmm.  Let's see.  A thing of Blistex, still in the individually-wrapped box.  Never tried it before, should be interesting.  Oh wait, is this a small purse/travel-sized bottle of sun screen?  No.  No, it's not.  It's a sunscreen lotion.... towelette?  Huh.  Apparently you're supposed to rub it all over yourself.  Thanks, directions.  Oh, and what's this?  "Rinse with water to remove."  But wait!  The "Uses" say that it lasts for "80 minutes of activity in the water or sweating."  Guess it takes a lot of rinsing?  There is of course a pamphlet giving lots of advice which, surprisingly, actually has better grammar than most of the wellness center flyers and "stall readers" (now called "Fit while you Sit!").  *groan*  Some of it's priceless advice includes the hot tub thing: "since pretty much every MTV video makes it look glamorous," water safety: "if the waves look dangerous...  they probably are," hotel safety: "don't overcrowd elevators" because malfunctions "cause you to be stuck with really bad elevator music," personal hygiene: "don't go pee in an alley," the sensitive comment of "to avoid a hangover, don't drink so much (duh!)," and "STDS are more embarrassing than a condom!"  On to the odd plastic thing.  A yellow clearish plastic with a compass smaller than the nail on my pinkie (and I have little hands, too).  Part of a keychain (big surprise) that... wait, wait... flashes a blinky red light when you squeeze it!!  Oh, boy, NCC!  I'll sure be safe now!  I won't be like the guy on the back cover of the pamphlet who "stepped into an alley to relieve himself and was kidnapped and dismembered as a human sacrifice by a drug-smuggling cult."  Yes, NCC, yes!  I will be my own lifeguard, no matter HOW much I've had to drink!  And I'll be sure to bring along... wait... what's the last thing in the bag?  Oh yes.  NCC- your inanity strikes again.  It's a cheap Durex condom so brightly colored it must have been designed by or for 4 year olds.  *sigh*  Unless anyone speaks up soon, I'm grabbing the lip balm (and possibly the sun screen) and tossing this thing in the trash.

Current Location: library
Current Mood: shocked
Current Music: "Not an Addict" K's Choice