Continued from last week: another photobomb of a post with the rest of our long weekend at Cornell, because I literally couldn’t fit all the fun into one post without losing all of my readers.
We were up bright and early on Saturday morning and found ourselves almost the first people in Collegetown Bagels. (Yes, since you asked, we did go there every day.) We filled up on bagels and delicious Ithaca Bakery coffee (iced for Steve, hot for me) before heading off to the “State of the ILR School” talk.
There’s interesting stuff going on with the school now, and a big group of alumni turned out to hear what’s up – it’s a small program, but well-known in most of our fields, so we all have a special affinity for the school and an interest in seeing it continue to do well. The Dean told a story about a group of students taking over his office with a list of demands – later, I told Steve that occupying an administration office was a quintessentially ILR thing to do and almost a rite of passage. We got a good laugh out of it, but I do love how passionate my fellow ILRies are about things. (In my day, our planned takeover of Day Hall – to convince the University to sign onto a multi-school pledge not to sell sweatshop-made apparel in the campus bookshop – didn’t end up coming off, but if it had, I will have you know that I was put in charge of paper towels and orange soda, a grave responsibility.)
After the State of the ILR School, we killed about an hour hanging out with our friend Seth in the courtyard while the kids ran around and got their wiggles out, then headed to my sorority, Alpha Phi, to see what they’d been up to.
There was fresh paint on the walls and a new courtyard, but the house looked pretty similar! Steve and the kids and I wandered around and poked our heads into my old rooms.
The Butterfly Triple (sophomore year), shared with my roommates Megan and Mary Allison. I remember it being bigger?
And my room in the G-wing (junior year), shared with my little sis, Betsy. So many fun memories in both rooms…
Now that I’m a mom, I’m a little more anxious about the idea of my kids joining the Greek system, but I have to say – I had nothing but positive experiences. I mentioned that to the current Alpha Phi house mom, who was a sister when I was a pledge, and she was glad to hear that. I was never hazed, because our international headquarters had a strict “no hazing” policy and our local chapter had a strict policy of following the international policy. As the current house mom put it, they didn’t see any point to hazing – didn’t think it was a bonding experience and felt there was a better way to build sisterly bonds. So instead of scrubbing floors with a toothbrush (or worse) I was taken on ski trips, showered with gifts from my generous big sis, serenaded in my dorm room by the most popular a capella group on campus (also courtesy of my big sis), and generally loved and protected by dozens of older girls as I was finding my way on campus. No “sketchy boy” got within ten feet of any of the pledges, but we did have a fun trip downtown to go to the movies and dominate a Vermonster together. And did it work? Well… my best friend (and godmother to my children) is an Alpha Phi, and we all still love and support each other today. So I think it did.
Enough waxing poetic about my sorority! We had fun poking around – and the house mom showed me the secret stuff, which I can’t tell you about (sorry…). And I went composite hunting!
Found freshman Jac, looking extremely wide-eyed. Probably fresh off being rescued from a sketchy frat boy at a mixer.
And senior Jac, much more confident in her own skin. But clearly, I didn’t have it all figured out at the ripe old age of 21. You can’t tell from the picture, but I’m wearing electric blue eyeshadow. Yowsa. I said to the house mom, “What was I thinking?” and she responded, “You were thinking that it was 2003.” At least I had something going for me: my bestie by my side. Rebecca and I have been inseparable since sophomore year. (She actually started trying to be friends when we were freshmen, but I was convinced she was way too cool to want to be friends with little old me and so she must have an ulterior motive – so I blew her off. Fortunately for me, she kept trying. And by junior year, I had the earth-shattering realization that I am actually cooler. Let me tell you, that was surprising.) Also: yes, I chopped off all of my hair junior year. This was me starting to grow it back out after it occurred to me that I didn’t actually want to look like Annette Bening.
Post-Phi House, we met back up with our dear friend Seth for more ice cream, obviously. The Dairy Bar was bumping.
Full of sugar-fueled energy, we clearly decided that a hike through the Cornell Botanic Gardens was in order.
WHERE IS THE TRAIL.
I recapped this hike on Wednesday, so won’t bore you with a repeat of all the pictures. After wandering through the Botanic Gardens for awhile, it was back to the Phi House for a reception, then off to the lake for our final Class of 2003 dinner.
We were early, so we squeezed in another hike – this time around Beebe Lake, where I used to run as a freshman. Memories! I also used to swim in the swimming hole with my floormates from Jameson Hall and…
…jump off this bridge into the gorge below. Yes, it is as high as it looks. And apparently, as dangerous.
Whoops. That plaque was not there when I was a freshman with a hobby of flinging myself into the lake from 35 feet up. For the record, the worst thing that ever happened to me was a case of swimmer’s ear, and I’ve lost count of how many times I jumped that thing. But still – don’t try this at home, kids.
Anyway! Trail pounded and memories reminisced, we found our way to the final Class of 2003 dinner. The Big Red Marching Band was there serenading all the small children with a lively rendition of everyone’s favorite hockey cheer: “We’re gonna beat the hell out of you! F*ck ’em up, f*ck ’em up, go CU!” I fully support the sentiment, but it did seem like a weird choice for the fifteen-year crowd, most of whom had their little kids in tow. What’s wrong with the alma mater?
No worries! Once the Dinosaur B-B-Q was open, everyone forgot about the music.
Nugget had a bit of a tough night, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by hurling rocks into Beebe Lake. Although he wasn’t pleased when he had to stop his rock-throwing to smile for the class picture. Life is full of disappointments, buddy. For instance, your alma mater may lose to Bemidji State in the Frozen Four hockey tournament. That’s a thing that can happen. And it is very upsetting.
And so ended a blissful weekend! But not the travel – we were off to Albany to visit with family, about which more next week. And I’m sure we will be back to Cornell – every five years for reunion, and eventually I hope quite a bit more, because I’m planning to sell the school with everything I have when it’s time for my kiddos to apply. As you may have guessed, my four years there were some of the happiest of my life. My only regret is not sticking around an extra year and picking up a Master’s. In many of the most significant ways, I became who I am at Cornell. I met my husband and my best friend, chose a career, figured out what I like and don’t like and learned a whole lot about myself in the process. I know and love every inch of this campus; it’s home.
Far above Cayuga’s waters
With its waves of blue
Stands our noble alma mater
Glorious to view
Lift the chorus, speed it onward
Loud her praises tell
Hail to thee, our alma mater
Hail, all hail Cornell!
Far above the busy humming
Of the bustling town
Reared against the arch of Heaven
Looks she proudly down
Lift the chorus, speed it onward
Loud her praises tell
Hail to thee, our alma mater
Hail, all hail Cornell!
The Explosive Child, by Dr. Ross Greene – Always looking to add to my arsenal of parenting knowledge. I took a long break from parenting books, though, because at best I found most of them unhelpful (with the exception of The Happiest Baby on the Block, which is a miracle) and at worst they made me feel like a rotten mother. This one was decidedly meh – I didn’t throw it across the room – but I also didn’t take much from it in the way of practical tips. The book sets forth a method for dealing with “chronically inflexible, easily frustrated children” – well, I have one of those, but I didn’t learn much about how to relate to this particular kid, at least, not in a way that I think would be effective. So all in all, not much help.
Slightly Foxed No. 4: Now We’re Shut In For The Night, ed. Gail Pirkis – No issue of Slightly Foxed ever disappoints! I’m gradually (but enthusiastically) working my way through the back issues of the quarterly, while keeping up with the current issues as well, and it’s almost hard to find anything new to say because they’re so consistently delightful. Even when I’m not inclined to rush out and buy a copy of the book that a particular essayist is profiling, the writing in the essays is invariably delightful and I can just sink into one happily. It really is a perfect literary magazine.
Scenes of Clerical Life, by George Eliot – I’ve read Middlemarch twice, but had never read anything else by Eliot, so I decided it was time to change that. To be honest, the cover attracted me to this one (this is the edition I have) and I also can’t resist a Victorian clergy novel. Kryptonite, I tell ya. Anyway, this is actually a collection of three novellas featuring clergymen and their families. I enjoyed the second – The Love-Story of Mr Gilfil – most, but all three were good reads. (And on more than one occasion I found myself in tears over a character and a bit befuddled by that, because I didn’t realize I cared that much! George Eliot, you sly minx.)
Anatomy of a Miracle, by Jonathan Miles – I think I noticed this one in the Shelf Awareness newsletter, or else on some other new release list. The premise is: Cameron Harris, Iraq vet, has been paralyzed and wheelchair-bound since coming home from the war – until one day when, in the parking lot of a convenience store, he stands up and walks. Cameron’s seemingly impossible recovery becomes big news and soon the Vatican investigator descends, followed in short order by a reality television crew. So – I enjoyed this, but I bogged down in it a little bit, which was probably a function of reading it against a library deadline and not because it was what I was really craving at the moment. It was good, but also reminded me a lot of The Jesus Cow, which I liked better.
covered in flour 