(2 june 2007)

our graduate school experience was very unique. or at least that’s what we MAPHers tell ourselves. for 9 months, we ran ammuck, dabbling through all the “humanities”- whatever the hell those really are. most graduate programs have 10 people. there were 100 MAPHers. there was The Core. there was always an open bar.

on friday night, lara and i ventured out into the pouring rain to the MAPH fifth anniversary reunion. we were soaked and we were none to thrilled. as we climbed the steps, she whispered, “i don’t want to do this.” “do what?” i asked. “what we’re doing right now.”

but did it we did. and thank God.

because had we not, i would never have balanced precariously atop tortoiseshell heels in the middle of the tasting room in a wet pink silk dress and had a most enlightening conversation with sensei.

nothing compares to the university of chicago alumni magazine. it’s like an AARP mag edited by louis menand. i had mistakenly believed the highlight of the may/june issue to be the supplemental publication devoted to the “living legacy” of The Core curriculum- a legacy typified by the cover girls, who sit among the stacks of the regenstein library staring at computer screens with what can only be described as expressions of apathetic doom.

i laughed and thought, that’s a fan-freaking-tastic summation of u of c life, and went on with my day. i didn’t even bother to check out the actual alumni magazine, CHICAGO. its cover was dominated by an unappealing ed asner clone hunched awkwardly over a hanging file. not exactly gripping so i blithely tossed it into the pile of tabloids and time outs.

because of this, i very nearly missed the tiny wonder that lay between pages 8 and 9. the tiny wonder that pointed out as i balanced precariously atop tortoiseshell heels in the middle of the tasting room in a wet pink silk dress. what tiny wonder, you may ask?

the temporary university of chicago alumni tattoo.

because yeah, everyone at the u of c has biceps like that.