This past weekend, I made my first great college escape. Suffering from the three-week reality crash, I was tired of working in the library all day and working to get into fraternity houses all night. "College is hard," I told my mother everyday. "It will get better," she assured me. But when? And how? "Let's go to JMU," my friends suggested. And my escape plan was hatched.
I know JMU and U.Va. have a friendly - well, friendlier than Tech - rivalry when it comes to parties, hot student bodies and dining choices. I will vehemently contest the first two claims that the parties are better and the people are hotter but I cannot argue against the food.
I took notes about my O-Hill meals the days leading up to the JMU escape. Words like baked potatoes, BBQ chicken and BLT salad bar strung themselves together to form some seemingly harmonious combinations. But my peers' claims about no sour cream for the potatoes, some "weird sauce" on the chicken and unappetizingly greasy salad dressing containers rang loud and clear in my ears.
I'll eat anything. I will. And I do not mind U.Va.'s dining halls. No sour cream? Ketchup always works. But my friends insisted that JMU had much more to offer. I was willing to check it out.
Secretly, I was more interested in what JMU had to offer me in terms of self-actualization than in what kind of parties or late night meals they had. I was burnt out from studying and stressing and I was even more worried about being burned out and stressed after only a month of college. I thought seeing old friends and ex-flames would reignite my joie de vivre. Not to ruin the plot or anything, but the whole re-ignition thing did not happen. Not even close. But JMU did teach me a thing or two - through eating. Could anything be better than that?
I do not understand JMU's dining plans - what is a "punch" and why do you only get two a day? - but I do understand the food hype. The dining halls, cafes, convenience stores are endless. Sure, U.Va. has options, but they are not this good. Friday night I ate at this place called "Dukes." Think of it as the Pav, but instead of using plus dollars, this stuff is included in your meal plan! Pizza and caesar salad for me - and it actually stimulated this sensation of flavor that I'd forgotten existed in college meals.
Throughout this first meal, my friends repeated: "Get ready to have some fun tonight." Concentrating on the breadstick-like crust of my vegetable pizza, I nodded absentmindedly. Good meal is the start of a good evening, I thought happily. And this was my first mistake.
3 a.m. hit me with the realization that I should have stayed at U.Va. I found myself eating spicy Doritos and Pop-Tarts and strawberry shortcake rolls and Tostitos dipped in ranch dressing. The only words I spoke were: "Where is the milk?" This was binge eating at its worst. This was me wondering why I'd left my school to come to some other school to see people and things I'd left a long time ago. I fell asleep on the concrete floor - and maybe sort of cried into my sweatshirt pillow.
In the end, it's always the food that teaches me what books and professors and friends cannot. I have eaten mind-blowing meals in dreary, fancy restaurants with even drearier - not as fancy - people. I've had horribly bland fare in run-down shacks with fun friends and awesome story sharing. I love food enough to know that it's good and it's bad and it's everywhere. Kind of like parties. And boys. JMU has great pizza but it also has Pop-Tarts dipped in ranch. Get the metaphor?
There is no need to go into great detail about Saturday night. We did not find any parties, which meant we did not run into any ex-boyfriends, which meant I did not eat twice my weight in horrifyingly delicious junk food. Sober, I contentedly rode the Drunk Bus around, sporting my Virginia sweatshirt. There were a few weird/mean/totally-envious looks. I didn't care. The whole "last night's epiphany!" thing helped me maintain an iota of sanity, something I hadn't had in weeks.
At JMU, I slowed down and calmed down and let myself miss the hectic demanding schedule of my U.Va. life. OK, so I didn't have that much fun. I will sacrifice a weekend of potential bacchanalian revelry for a self-help epiphany. Sunday brunch at E-hall- basically JMU's Runk, but 10 times better - was the perfect ending to a not-so-perfect weekend. Indulge with me. Belgian waffles with FRESH FRUIT, homemade whipped cream, chocolate chips ... eggs WITH CHEESE, bacon, hashbrowns ... oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins ... peanut butter and chocolate pastry delights ... make your own omelets ... you get the idea.
Stuffing my face, I informed my fellow diners that I needed fodder for a food article, so I had to eat this much. The fodder is this: Belgian waffles are Belgian waffles are Belgian waffles. JMU, or anywhere for that matter, is not U.Va. I only need to be in one place to self-actualize, and if that place isn't ranked fourth in the nation for Great Food, so be it. For now, I'll settle for the blend of Doritos and Pop-Tarts. You can get that anywhere on Grounds.
Connelly's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at c.hardaway@cavalierdaily.com.
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