On being elderly(ish) in a college town

My roommates are at work training. They’ve been gone since Sunday. And it has been really, truly thrilling. Things I have been doing:

  • Singing into my hairbrush, wine bottles, and our traffic cone at the top of my lungs from ‘get-home-from-work o’clock’ til ‘bedtime o’clock’ which is getting earlier and earlier as the week goes on and I don’t have anyone to watch netflix with
  • Standing in front of the open fridge in a sports bra and spandex, maybe or maybe not eating hummus with a spoon
  • Turning every floor into a dance floor, occasionally donning “Risky Business” attire and trying to set personal records for how far I can slide on our hardwood floors
  • Making trips to Trader Joe’s just to eat samples and interact with humans. Sometimes the cute sample man tells me I should probably buy something. Aww, our first fight!

I MISS THEM. They are my other halves (thirds?), my confidantes, my best amigos. So, when the opportunity came up for me to go to Charlottesville for campus recruiting on Tuesday and Wednesday, I hugged a man standing on the metro platform with me who may or may not have been homeless. I was going to see my friends!!!

When I made it on the UVA snapchat story!!
When I made it on the UVA snapchat story!!

There was so much to do, and so little time. During my gorgeous 2-hour drive down 29, I decided it was imperative to stop at Moo Thru to get my priorities straight over a cup of Key Lime ice cream.

I was the only person here under 200 pounds. #winning?
I was the only person here under 200 pounds. #winning?

If my brain were twitter,  the hashtag ‘wine’ would be a trending topic, right next to ‘Mindy Kaling’ and ‘Hot men reading on the metro.’ Wine is the answer to every question. What should I do after work? What would go well with [insert literally any food here]? How do I fill the hole in my heart left by One Direction breaking up?

Ultimate bae
Ultimate bae

So, it makes sense that this was also the answer to the question ‘what should I do when I get to Charlottesville?’ Well, ish. My first stop was OBVIOUSLY the one and only Paradox Pastry, not only because I knew that Jenny (the owner/my old boss/the most fun and cool and accomplished and omg can I be you chick around) would shower me with iced coffee and cake (which she did). I needed to say ‘Bonjour’ to ma famille de patisserie! I also had to pee like a pregnant woman, but that’s besides the point.

I want to go to there
I want to go to there

So, after catching up with Jenny, being forced to take off the apron I had instinctively put on, and grabbing a pepperoni roll for the road, I set off for Pippin Hill vineyards. It’s about a 20 minute drive, but I got stuck behind two school buses and one manic crossing guard on the way there (only in Cville).
Crossing Guard Lady (CGL): *staring at me through my windshield, doing what looks like a cross between the wave and the nae nae*
Me: *stops car*
Me: Let me get to my wine
Me: I’m not moving
(This is where it dawned on me that she might actually be Raven of ‘That’s So Raven’ fame. Ahh, the depressing life trajectory of child stars)

I’m still not sure how her dance was supposed to indicate “Slow down” but, regardless, I was on my way to wine!!!


Pippin Hill is what I imagine heaven to be like: mountains, Chardonnay, sunshine, Pinot Grigio, general prettiness, Sauvignon Blanc. I opted for the Chardonnay, and opened my laptop to at least convince myself that I was doing some work while I soaked in the Cville sun. I stuck to one glass because a) I was driving and b) PINT NIGHT.

Once Madison was done with class, I drove back to grounds and miraculously found a street parking spot in front of the Phi Delt house and sweetly asked (read: begged) my wonderful grandlittle to help me carry my stuff to her apartment. Mostly because I had brought her a bottle of champagne and it was really weighing me down. All because I love you, Mads ❤

All the babies who matter (i.e. not Tyler, he sucks)
All the babies who matter (i.e. not Tyler, he sucks)

Before I knew it, dinnertime was upon us. Mads and I rallied the troops (ok, like 5 people in her pledge class) but that wasn’t enough friends for me, so I proceeded to text everyone I knew at UVA, and who used to go to UVA, and who I’ve seen wear blue and/or orange once, and demand that they come to Mellow THAT INSTANT. The hostess thought Mads and I were really cool when the two of us walked in and demanded the largest table they had. But the people did come, and I think the people were happy to see me?

In my four years at UVA, I learned a few things. First, squirrels are reckless and should be regarded with utmost fear. Second, if you play foosball with a homeless man, he will steal your beer when you are not looking. Finally, at 7:56 PM every Tuesday, the student body simultaneously listens to the song “Tuesday” and then marches in a single file line to Mellow to get $2 beers. Mellow usually lets about three people in, and then approximately one per hour thereafter. If you’re not there early, you are doomed to wait eternally in “the line.” Since I was already inside, I decided to turn this into a drinking game: I drank, and anyone who was interested in coming to see me could wait in line! How fun!

So much love for Jacqui
So much love for Jacqui

Eventually it was Jacqui (TWINNY!!!), Katherine, and I, and we were ready for a change of scenery. Katherine wanted to go to Boylan, Kuckhoff had said something about Coupe’s before his text so rudely drained my phone battery, Julian wanted to get ~turnt~ at Trinity, and the $3 Fresh Zens at Crozet were calling my name. Alas, Jacqui and I are elderly (i.e. graduated) and sprouted gray hairs just looking at the crowd of young’uns at Boylan. We said goodnight to Katherine, and I headed back to Mads’ apartment to snuggle with her and watch Millionaire Matchmaker.


BODO’S. Oh my god, Bodo’s.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely, and more glutenful. No other bagel can even hold a candle to these babies. Like I was excited to see my friends, but holy guacamole, Bodo’s. I grabbed my sweet little piece of carby heaven and took it to the steps of Old Cabell (rest in pieces, Rotunda) to soak up the sun before the real work started.

Dude by Homer is streaking incorrectly
Dude by Homer is streaking incorrectly

I guess if I was there for a work trip, I had to do work, too? But this work was just talking to people, which is actually super fun! Except most of the people I talked to were friends that I already knew. So I’ve decided that to be an effective recruiter you can’t have any friends. Seems simple enough, right?

The OTHER side of the table
The OTHER side of the table

I also discovered a new talent!! I have a stunning ability to hand someone who I find attractive my business card and slip them a wink as I say “here’s my card” in my most convincing srat rasp. At that point, the person is usually like “is there something in your eye?” and then I play it off like my contact is bothering me and then we both laugh and then they walk away quickly.

At the end of the event, I said my tearful goodbyes to the hallways of McIntire, the classrooms where I got middling grades on every Finance test, and the lawn where I’ve run naked (and, on the occasion where I had torn my meniscus, hobbled naked) so many times before. See you soon, Cville!


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