Wednesday, May 10, 2006


I guess I wasn’t “Bryn Mawr material.” I drank, smoked, and generally gallivanted about. I was hands down the worst President of the Bryn Mawr and Haverford College Christian Fellowship, possibly ever. I listened to loud rap music and mouthed off to the multi-ethnic student group and made a few of them cry. I had parties. I had male friends. I had male friends… at parties.

Megan was my perfect match- the only other straight girl at Bryn Mawr who understood the joys and sorrows of tequila. We strolled into poetry class late with lattes and flirted with the professor. We shared a mutual affection for belts encrusted with glitter and flip flops no matter the season. We fought like cats. It was as close to love as I like to get.

Senior year we didn’t have much to give after 9/11, both being scholarship students. Our babysitting money barely covered books and transportation; we felt helpless. Megan, a New-Yorker, felt particularly miserable. One day over chai she had a brilliant idea. An idea that could benefit Bryn Mawr and New York. Something that could bring two incredibly diverse communities together. Something that could get the girls out of the library and onto the dance floor. Something with… beer. And that is how the boys of Sigma Nu came into my life. Well, the Villanova chapter at any rate.

We emailed local fraternities proposing a scheme: a bachelor/bachelorette auction. And kegger. Sigma Nu happily agreed to help. Administration flipped their collective wig. Neither of us were strangers to the Dean’s office and the very thought of Villanovan frat boys and kegs on their pristine campus was quite the shock. But we took it to the top and got the permissions needed.

It was the party of the year. We raised well over two grand for the Red Cross in cup fees and auction proceeds. Many girls got much needed action. Many guys got much undeserved action. Megan and I both started dating burly ‘Novans that annoyed and threatened my other male friends. Eventually we got excellent breakup stories and a trip to Rhode Island.

Yesterday Megan called. She had found out that our auction and subsequent parties were the foundation for a relationship with Sigma Nu that continues today. Apparently our ‘little sisters’ kept a relationship with the frat and their ‘little sisters’ did too. Out there, this weekend, there could be an Alcohol for Africa party. Who knows?

I guess I left a legacy at Bryn Mawr after all- I certainly didn’t put any effort into it. It figures that my legacy would primarily involve worthless men and beer.

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