the dining hall moment
i hate my roommate. she’s too fcking healthy. hate her. i hate to look at her. i hate her voice. she’s like “omg, did you see those pink uggs? aren’t they soooo hype?” uggggg. but, i need to be polite. so, we go to the dining hall. it’s modern and light and airy, but crowded, thronged with hundreds of first-year students. it’s like a food court in some suburban mega mall, not an ivy league school. they have all these glass troughs. some of them are cold and some of them have heat lamps. millions of calories, carbs, and fats.
i’m completely overwhelmed.
the swimtest
the swimming test freaks me out. i don’t want to put on a bathing suit and show myself in public up here.
most of these girls are built like my roommate. they aren’t “fat,” they’re “athletic.”
i don’t think they want to wear swimsuits, either.
the dance studio girls
i am home for christmas break. my first stop is a real ballet class.
steps is a zoo.
its not like SAB or BAE. or the JKO School at ABT. steps is old school. really old school.
cast iron columns and beat-to-f*ck hardwood floors.
