Ok," said one of the Aquinas House chaplains. "The next question I'm going to ask you is, what is it about you that makes you unique?"
My mind drew a blank. I went through my statistics. Blonde hair, brown eyes, five and a half feet tall, fairly average weight, psychology major, originally from Boston. Well, none of that would work. At least four people shared each of those traits with me.
"We'll start with Laura."
Crud, no more time. I'll just say anything.
"I'm unique because I'm having a really hard time figuring out something that makes me unique."
That was a stupid answer, but whatever. It was over. I was off the hook. And yet it made me sad that nothing immediately sprang to mind when the chaplain asked that question. And sadder still that even after everyone had given their answer, I still couldn't think of a decent one.
The next day, I was walking to the bookstore when I heard a male voice call, "Kerry! Kerry! Wait up!" There was no one else in my vicinity, and so I turned around. "Didn't I meet you at Chi Gam last night?"
"I don't think so," I answered. "and my name isn't Kerry."
"Really? You weren't at Chi Gam last night?"
"No, I stayed in."
"Whoa. Well there's another girl on campus who looks exactly like you. Only a little cuter."
"Thanks," I said, and walked away. So not only was I not unique in personality or talent, but there was even someone on campus who could have been my better-looking double.
But the last straw was the columnist meeting on Monday.
"Basically, there are about five "Dartmouth issues" that Dartmouth columnists write about," someone said. "The Greek system, intellectualism at Dartmouth, dating at Dartmouth ..."
"I want to be a freshman," piped up somebody else.
I was insulted. I really was. Here I spent the last two weeks writing about things I really care about, things that really matter to me, and then I go to the columnist meeting only to find all my hard work reduced to a bunch of Dartmouth cliches.
That's when it hit me. I AM a Dartmouth cliche. I lament about fraternities during the week and go to fraternity parties on the weekend. I pull consecutive all-nighters. I procrastinate. I overachieve. I complain a lot but never do anything to change things. I send chain-letters, not because I believe all that hooey about bad luck befalling me if I don't, but because hey -- what could it hurt? I count calories. I abuse alcohol. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I have trouble digesting Panda House food. I am dissatisfied with DDS, ORL and telephone services. My GPA is right on the 50th percentile.
I am, for all intents and purposes, an average Dartmouth student.
Believe me when I say that this was quite an alarming discovery for me at first. But I got over it. I am nothing if not resilient. As the true over-achiever that I am, I have decided that if I am going to be cliche, I'll be the best damn cliche there is. I'm going to procrastinate more, drink harder and complain louder. And next week I'm going to write a column on dating at Dartmouth.
