All right, so here I am, just starting the second semester of my sophomore year, when I have an almost instantaneous personal revelation - or, as the dictionary.com word-of-the-day e-mail I get every day might read, an "epiphany."
In the midst of filling out countless applications to go abroad and hearing my roommate moan about his most recent housing crisis, I discover that I have not contributed anything at all to Tufts. I mean, I played football freshman year. However, I quit my sophomore year so I guess that doesn't really count.
After realizing how selfish I am for depriving my fellow elephants of not only my presence, but also my numerous talents and overall awesomeness, I decide that I should immediately find an extracurricular activity in which to involve myself.
I immediately click over to the most valuable and ingenious Web site on the Internet. Now, I am not referring to TheFacebook.com, which is probably the most valuable and ingenious Web site for those who wish to know everything about someone with whom they have never spoken (a.k.a. stalkers). No, the Web site that I speak of is TuftsLife.com.
I start to scan the listing of announcements when I strike oil. I, of course, find this amusing, because the United States doesn't have large oil reserves to speak of. So I keep scanning until I come to an ad placed by the Tufts Observer, basically saying that there are openings in the arts section of their weekly newsmagazine.
After feeling guilty because I have never read the Tufts Observer, I realize that I may have found what I was looking for. I am a huge movie fan, so this might actually work out after all. This could be the start of a glorious career filled with money, women and power! Just look at Roger Ebert! All right, so that isn't a good example, but you get the idea.
At this point, I feel very proud of myself, so I take a few shots of Grey Goose. Actually, not really. Instead of getting intoxicated, I decide to immediately e-mail the contact given in the ad so that my career as a successful journalist can begin.
I e-mail "Susan" and let her know that I saw the ad and would like to contribute to the Observer.
She responds very quickly, which impresses me because I always thought that I was the only one at Tufts who checks his or her e-mail more than once a minute.
Anyway, after telling her that I really enjoy movies, we come to a mutual agreement that I should do a piece on the upcoming Academy Awards.
So, I e-mail her for probably the fourth time telling her I would be more than happy to do an Oscar preview, outlining who is expected to win, etc.
This is when relations really start to deteriorate between us and I consider expelling her ambassador from my country.
She e-mails me back in an unprecedented and assertive tone telling me I should see all the films nominated for best picture this year and write a massive review.
I immediately feel defeated. Ughhhh... I don't want to see all the movies, I just want to write a simple, one-page article that would give useful information such as who is expected to win in each of the categories! No one cares what I really think! They just want information!
Even though I am still angry that my obstinate e-mailing foe does not like my idea, I decide to check out the films nominated for best picture.
I begin to think that this might not be so bad. It turns out that I have seen all of them except... "BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN."
All right, so let's get something straight (haha). I am a very cultured person, and I love all people.
However, I feel, well, slightly uncomfortable going to see a movie that centers around two gay cowboys.
I mean, I am not homophobic at all, but I would just rather go see something else.
Getting back to the story: I decide to e-mail Susan back and let her know that I can't do this assignment and would prefer another one because I am uncomfortable going to see "Brokeback Mountain" and can't do this story justice.
(I thought I was pretty clever invoking the whole "can't do this story justice line," don't you think?)
I mean, I know that this campus is beyond sensitive, and my assertion that I am uncomfortable with seeing "Brokeback Mountain" could possibly lead to crucifixion.
However, I decide to stick to my guns and tell her I would rather write about something else.
I figure she will understand. So I click send and wait patiently for a response. Something is wrong, though, as she doesn't respond right away.
I start to get slightly anxious when I click refresh and see the e-mail. I open it up and begin to read.
My initial fears are confirmed. She has stopped just short of engaging in all-out war with me at this point.
She says, "I think getting over yourself and seeing 'Brokeback' is worthwhile and something you may be proud of later, but if you really can't then you really can't."
WHOA! Suddenly she is on a first-name basis with this movie...
After crying for a few minutes knowing that I would never get to write for the Observer, I decided that I could learn a few things from this.
Number One: The Tufts Observer is lame.
Number Two: Honesty is never the best policy.
Number Three: The Tufts Observer doesn't deserve me, and contributing to anything that doesn't directly serve my own self-interest is, well... a waste of time.
