Achieving clarity up on a roof
By Margaret Chipowsky | May 19, 2001ONE BY one, we climbed out the bathroom window and onto the roof. From three stories up at 4 a.m.
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ONE BY one, we climbed out the bathroom window and onto the roof. From three stories up at 4 a.m.
This is a column about politicos, and it's the last one I'll ever write. I've followed them for almost three years now.
Almost every fourth year probably has made The List, an abbreviated name for The List of Things I Must Do Before I Graduate.
Imagine spending four years at the University clawing and scratching your way to the top rung of an organization's leadership.
Gather' round, folks. It's time to talk about something really important: Gossip. It's a subject I know quite a bit about. That's right, there are a slew of good facets of old-fashioned mud-slinging, back-stabbing, idle gossip.
I have not exactly spent my time at the University immersing myself in the world of academia. I haven't been a bad student, of course.
Nothing in life is as bad as being stuck in the middle. Who could imagine something that feels almost as bad as being told you aren't good enough for something? But recently, my friendly mailman has been delivering something that is nearly as unpleasant - and nearly as thin - as a rejection letter.
I spent part of Spring Break in a place I visit rather infrequently. No, I did not take off for a sunny locale to lounge on a sandy beach.
Break out your putters and plaid pants. Prepare to hit the green. The politicos are ready to play. As winter clears out and spring approaches, it is almost time for one of the University's newest traditions: the invitation-only, charity miniature golf tournament commonly referred to as the Politico Invitational. I, for one, am ready to defend my mini-golf honor.
I didn't know what I was stepping on, and I really didn't want to look. Of course, even if I had wanted to look, I wouldn't have been able to.
