Letters To Genie

Dear Genie,

Why is there cilantro in everything? I mean EVERYTHING, like the quinoa salad today. WHYOHWHY. Cilantro is the devil's weed. I hate it so much. It tastes like soap and malice. Please stop.

Love,

Gremlin

#Collisgrrlproblemz

9:50 a.m. Tazo or bust.

9:51 a.m. Whole milk is for poor people.

9:55 a.m. Compost> Recycling. Obviously, Trash Landfill is out of the question. How gauche.

9:57 a.m. I can't fit my longboard in my Longchamp.

11:53 a.m. I hate the Hop. "Red Hulk"? Really? I almost had an eating disorder last term. TRY to be a little more sensitive, DDS! #sobbing

5:04 p.m. Got up from my couch in One Wheelock for .5 seconds to get a jar of salsa from Bottomside (#normal) and suddenly there's a fucking Renaissance Fair going on in there. Is nothing sacred?!

8:17 p.m. What do guys look like? I haven't seen one in here since Dimensions. 2008.

9:30 p.m. Bottomside is out of cutter. They never have what I need.

11:46 p.m. It's so lonely in my extra-long twin bed without male autism to keep me company. Sigh...#smh.

The Collis Seven

Because every great institution should be desecrated in exactly seven locations.

1. In the salad trough.

You'll have to be ready to make a few enemies when the tofu chunks start flying and the Craisins inevitable get knocked over. But it's all about making an impression. They'll secretly respect you for it. Rush is coming up soon, after all.

2. On the skylight.

If you think you look fat splashed across a glass panel, naked as the day you were born, doing the nasty, viewed from below, then maybe you don't want your best friend to film this one. But it's all about positive self-image. And FACETIME!

...Asstime? Hmmm...

3. Commonground.

The disco ball isn't just there to pay homage to Jimmy Wright's Studio 54 days. It sets the mood.

4. In the Greenprint line before 10As.

This one's for the boldest lovers among us. Or the most annoying. I can't decide. I don't have time, I have to print my thesis. On Simplex. It's really important.

5. On the Info Desk.

You'd be surprised how many people, particularly the ones working behind the desk, will be unlikely to notice the miracle of your lovemaking. As long as you don't cry out that Greenprint is broken in the heat of the moment, you should go completely undisturbed. Just watch out for staples. And tacks. And that huge stapler that says it's for "25-50 pgs." Because I really have to staple my thesis, which is really long, and impressive, and needs to be stapled at any cost or else I'll never get a job and a hot wife and 2.5 genie pups and a lantern just outside of Boston.

6. In Fuel.

There comes a time in every young person's life when herm needs to do it in a sketchy nightclub in the Eastern Bloc while wearing JLo's green Versace dress from the 2000 Grammys (you know what I'm talking about). Fuel presents the perfect venue in which to perform this time-old rite of passage. Not only does Fuel offer an authentic Hungarian nightclub feel, but it is also surrounded by scary black windows--smoke screens that create an air of mystery. You can't see in, you can't see out. So the people eating al soggy pasta can't see you living out your darkest fantasy on the Fuel dance floor. You don't have to watch some vested Info Desk person troll for errant staples while you climax. But you know who can see you? I can. This is my house. And it isn't voyeurism when I do it.

7. In the COSO office.

Pat Moss's desk is good for two things--watching dollar bills coast off into the ether, and hanky panky.

Collis Exit Survey: The Numbers Never Lie*

Every so often, a fresh-faced ingenue--read: n00b--comes along and tries to press the cider of my infinite knowledge. They wanna be me. I mean, I would too. But you can't sit with us.

So here's a lot of stuff that I already knew. I knew it first. And I knew it betterest. And you're the worst!

The Official Collis Trough Exit Survey:

conducted on Wednesday, February 2nd, probably by a '14 with a rolling backpack

When asked how they feel about dates in baked good 80% of poeple responded "fuck dates"

Only 2 people had ever used a tray at collis (an 11 didn't even know there were trays at collis). 70% of people judge the tray users.

That bitch in the green backpack sucks. Everyone agrees.

90% of people are afraid of beheading by salad trough cover. "Especially if some stupid 14 with a backpack is swinging that shit around"

The Collis Genie probably decides what is in the cooler for the day.

80% of people agree that the corn in the late night pasta special is because the pasta maker is definitely high. "Maybe he thinks it will pop if you heat it up"- 11 girl

1/2 of those surveyed had not stolen at mozz stick from collis but one 13 girl estimated she had lifted between 800 and 1000 and will continue to do so. "I snack on one or two while I'm deciding what I want and usually that is 4 more mozz sticks that I am not going to wait in a 30 person line to pay for"- 13 girl

*Unless those numbers are also men.

Firewater

This news just flew across my carpet, and I feel pressed to share:

We all know there's alcohol in One Wheelock. It's in the basement. What else do people keep in their basements besides Zhenka and date trees? Well, be prepared to take everything you thought you knew about Collis, basements, life, and defenestration, and throw it out the window. Ready?

The apparently fully-stocked bar in One Wheelock is a hoax. Yes, that sparkling array of glass and distilled grain, so reminiscent of the Golden Age of Hollywood that one would almost expect Sinatra to appear and mix you a Fogcutter himself, is all a mirage. There is no alcohol in the bottles, as denoted by the sign written in blue highlighter that reads,"They are empty."

I know what you're thinking. I just took your thought out with a pensieve. And the little white goo ball said, "What?? There's no ALCOHOL in One Wheelock?! How am I supposed to pretend to underline things in the same room as the opposite sex? I'm drowning in my own awkwardness. I'm going to have to go back to my single in Quechee."

Yeah...that sucks.

I drank them, of course. Don't hurst me, bro! What the hell else am I supposed to do, besides squash dates with my sixth toe and pee in the eggwhite mix? But I can stop anytime I want. I just don't want to. What are the cameras doing here? I didn't sign up for this! I don't have a problem! Okay, fine. Yes. Yes, I'll go to treatment.