Around this time each year, I’m grateful I’m not a high school senior. I still wince at the memory of waiting for the bell to ring so I could go home and check the mailbox for that “Congratulations, you’ve been accepted and now actually have a future” envelope. To make matters worse, many schools release admissions decisions through the internet, so applicants are acutely aware, down to the minute, of when their fate is sealed. I can perfectly recall waiting until 5:00 p.m. to hear from the University, trying to take my mind off the situation by renting a heartwarming movie — “The Exorcism of Emily Rose.”
We all know how relieved some seniors are feeling right now; the University just notified its prospective class of 2013 last week. And for those that didn’t get in, they can at least be consoled by Blair Waldorf’s tumultuous struggle to be admitted to Yale, despite her alumni father and trust fund, which has made this predicament somewhat posh. I didn’t realize, however, that getting admitted was only half the battle. In retrospect, there are certain things I wish I had known before stepping foot on this utopia dubbed “Grounds.” The most useful advice can’t be acquired through Days on the Lawn or College Prowler.
It also can’t be learned from a guided tour. I know University Guides is prestigious and all — and basically guarantees members a coveted Lawn room — but do we really need to know about the Special Collections Library? Incoming first-year students instead should be familiar with places that they’ll actually go. I didn’t unearth a little treasure called West Range until the end of first year, and I’ve been there almost everyday since for my caffeine fix. Also, every first-year student should be aware of the convenient Castle; I wish I would’ve added extra Plus Dollars to fund those 1 a.m. Ben & Jerry’s runs. Slaughter Gym is another gem, just as close as the Aquatic & Fitness Center but without the crowds. There, you won’t have to wait in line at the elliptical while someone finishes four politics articles at a grandma’s — no, great-grandma’s — pace.
We allegedly come here for an education, but I wish I had known a little more about the actual course scheduling process before orientation. When I was enrolling, I would’ve liked to know not to get my hopes up. A minimum of 80 backups is absolutely necessary for all first-year students. Furthermore, I was fooled by course names. I signed up for “Sociology of American Popular Culture” my first semester, envisioning a class of YouTube-watching and Britney Spears-ragging, but instead was doomed to reading lengthy articles about Marxism.
I also remember contemplating outfits for move-in day. I wish someone warned me that lugging boxes into an unconditioned dorm in August, I’d be sweating like Tony Soprano in no time. Further advice about U.Va. clothing would have also been helpful. No one should step foot on Grounds without topsiders, a North Face or Patagonia fleece, or Raybans ... if he/she wants friends, that is. Girls should also buy Jack Rogers sandals — a pair for each day of the week — and several Longchamp bags. For football games, it’s essential to have an obnoxiously bright sundress or flamboyant tie. During game days, the Lawn is so colorful that it looks like a unicorn vomited up a king-sized bag of Skittles after downing the abundant cheap bourbon.
And while I’m on the subject of bourbon, I guess I should offer my two cents about the social scene here — and we all know how cool I am, so it’s probably more like a whole silver dollar’s worth. Not that I’ve ever seen this done or anything, but it isn’t wise to make a fake ID on a scanner and mount it on an expired debit card. This craft lost any hope of viability when Amigo’s left the Corner. Incoming first-year students should instead acclimate themselves to several years of Natty Light by sticking to frats for a while — or at least find a better fake.
I really feel like I could have used some of this advice before entering the halls of Bonnycastle a little less than three years ago. Maybe then I wouldn’t have run out of Plus Dollars in three weeks or embarrassed myself by wearing the prototypical “first-year uniform” of jean skirts and flip-flops for the annual Wertland block party. Clearly, orientation, tours and the numerous brochures sent to first-year students before starting here aren’t sufficient. Certain things — like your favorite tree to study under or the true liberation of streaking the Lawn — you can only learn yourself.
Abby’s column runs biweekly Fridays. She can be reached at a.coster@cavalierdaily.com.
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