Before I begin, I guess I should admit that my weekend wasn’t completely boring. It had its fun moments. But overall, it was a pretty boring weekend. Because it was so boring, and because you, the reader, probably don’t care about my weekend, I’m not going to write about it at great length; but I am going to use a few anecdotes about my weekend to describe why it was boring, and what could have made it better.

After eating dinner as usual with my friend Andrew on Friday, I went up to my friend James’ room to see what was going on. James and I have been friends since fifth grade, and he usually is doing something fun on a Friday night. Unfortunately, his Friday night plans this particular Friday consisted of getting into a frat party. While the idea of getting down on my hands and knees and kissing some frat guy’s ass so I could get into a lame party was tempting, I ended up returning to my room and hanging out on my own that evening.

Fast-forward to Saturday night, when I was pleasantly surprised by a visit from my old friend Neil, a student at the University of Richmond, and his friend Hunter. The guy that lives across the hall from me, Mike Barth, went to school with Neil for six years. The two of us decided to show Neil a good time, which consisted of getting thrown out of a “closed mixer” that was being held on a shady backstreet, and a near-fight with Barth’s roommate, Eric. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. I should note that “getting thrown out” is used in the figurative sense in the previous sentence, although it was nearly literal. I should also note that we were denied entry to some other party, because of something to do with our not being club lacrosse players. Neil’s argument that “I throw a spear for the varsity track team of a D1 school” apparently was unable to impress these club lacrosse players.

Anyway, as I said before, I have no interest in boring you with the details of my weekend; I merely provided these anecdotes as evidence for my larger argument, which is that Bucknell is not a fun place if you are a) a freshman and b) are not female. Part of this is attributable to the Greek life policy at Bucknell. Due to the fact that freshman cannot rush, they are rather looked down upon by upperclassmen. This creates a culture much like grade school, where insecure students feel the need to make themselves superior by forming a group with what seems to be the soul purpose of excluding others. That’s right, I am drawing a parallel between fraternities and those little clubs that first graders form with the intention of excluding that one kid they don’t like. As far as I can see, that’s pretty much what fraternities do. It’s sad to see that so many “grown-ups” really haven’t progressed beyond little kids in terms of maturity and acceptance of others.

This is a big reason why I tend to dislike fraternities. Being a second semester freshman, some people ask me if I plan on rushing next year. The answer is a resounding no. Why would I want to spend my next three years at Bucknell standing on a porch every Friday and Saturday night, telling people they can’t come into my house simply because they haven’t completed one year at Bucknell? In other words, why would I want to spend my next three years here being a complete ass to people who didn’t share the same two or three Greek letters with me?

Of course, I don’t take the rejection personally. That’s just how things are done at Bucknell, I guess. It’s what happens when you get a bunch of elitist private-schoolers from north Jersey and Long Island all going to the same school. I also don’t take the taunts of “Who let the babies in?” and “Hey look, a midget” personally, either (although I do wish that drunken frat guy could have come up with something a bit more clever). But mainly I don’t take it personally because I don’t care about going to some stupid party, anyway. Yes, I went “downtown” on Saturday because a friend of mine was in town, and I thought it would be nice to show him some fun while he was here; but generally, I’m not too keen on parties to begin with. I don’t really like large gatherings of people, especially when I know less than five of the people there, and I don’t find parties full of frat guys surrounding drunk, half-naked girls a decent place for meeting people, anyway. Which is why I find that it’s probably best to ride out the rest of the year finding other exciting things to do on weekends, such as wandering around late at night using cloves to trap unsuspecting people into conversing with me.