Having spent our summers in America’s intellectual mecca, we thought readjusting to school would be easy, but it is always tough to leave Milwaukee. And for all you Rand McNallys out there who keep asking us where Milwaukee is, it’s the capital of Minnesota. Milwaukee’s a place where people actually care about learning, which is why every year the city sends us off to university with a “Greatest Minds” parade. We know the mayor meant well, but it took us over seventeen days to get out here on that fucking float.
Back at Harvard, the transition was rocky as usual as we endured another Hell Week, aka shopping period. We thought this one might be different, but we didn’t take it as a good sign when we found out that Derek C. Bok would not be teaching any classes. In other words we found out that there would no classes worth taking.
And so, clutching our tear-soaked course catalogs, we began a five-day quest for something to believe in. The hardest part was that, since we play three varsity sports, we could only consider courses that fit within a forty-five minute window. And given that all Harvard courses are at least an hour long, we both had to make one of the most difficult decisions of our lives: we quit the football team. Clifton, we’re finally giving you a chance to shine; go get ’em, buddy.
With more time on our hands, we set out to shop. And then, after getting back from Newbury St., we got serious. We went to our rooms and put on our new outfits, went to a movie, rode bikes, climbed some trees, made sundaes and finally, went back to Newbury St. to return the clothes. We had three more great days of this, but by Thursday night decided that we probably needed to check out some classes.
Friday morning’s class had us really excited, and it wasn’t the course material, because what of kind of sicko would be excited for Nazi cinema? It was the smoking hot blonde with the big blue eyes who had us on the edge of our seats. And that got us thinking...what if there were a whole race like her? “Our Struggle” continued when she got up and walked out of the room. We were worried that she was going to drop the class, but when we followed her, we discovered she had only gone to drop a brown Hindenburg in the Science Center bathroom. Every rose has its thorn, and some thorns stink so bad we had to pull the fire alarm. Oh, the humanity.
Our search for the perfect woman continued in Historical Study B-24: “Utopia in the Age of the Scientific Revolution.” Even though the course isn’t offered this semester, sitting in the empty-room was a character building experience. However, because there were no females (or anyone) in attendance, we found no hips wide enough to bear each of us our desired nine to 14 children. Tired and classless, we returned to our thatch huts.
And so, a week later, we remain in our rooms, our study cards still blank, the fifty dollar fines accumulating. If anyone knows some good classes to take, please e-mail us. But don’t bother if the courses are in Women, Gender and Sexuality. We’ve already taken—and aced—all of those.
