Look: I went to a tiny all-girls’ school for seven years. We were big into sisterhood, let me tell you. I thought at Harvard I’d finally be safe from matching pink t-shirts, big and little “sisters” I wasn’t actually related to, and all that shit. Then I discovered sororities, and my dreams died. Check it:
1. People who smile too much make me nervous. Sorority girls smile all the time, especially during rush. What the hell are they so happy about, anyway?
2. Pigtails. Once her two front teeth grow in, a girl’s days of whimsical hairstyles should be over. And yet, pigtails are the sorority girl’s coif of choice. No good.
3. As a classicist, it pains me to see good, solid Greek letters sullied by perky girls with silly hair. Greek Week and all other “Greek” events are the nerd’s rightful domain; how did they get co-opted by pearl necklaces and keg stands, the calories from which will just be obsessively worked off in the MAC at 9 a.m. the next morning?
I could go on for days, but I simply don’t have time—I’ve got, like, ten pages of Aeschylus to translate by tomorrow.
