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Present History
Kelly Schmainda

    In early fall Marquette Universityís campus is once again brought to life by the laughter and reuniting of friends.  Like any year, groups are quickly formed.  The juniors and seniors mesh together nicely, moving toward their weekends of bar hopping and intimate house parties ónot to mention the packed to capacity beer-sloshed public gatheringsóonly to return to where studying once again takes precedence.  However, excitement doesnít live here with the upperclassmen; itís the freshmen that take part in this for the first time--nevertheless, distinctive patterns are easily discovered.

    After the 30 bus rolls by on 16th and Wisconsin around ten oíclock on a Friday night, endless seas of freshmen girlsóall clad in black pants and sparkly halter-tops and makeup so unsubtle it could turn that bus aroundócongregate outside their dorms.  These girls get slanderous looks from junior and senior girls and stares of longing and memories of a time passed from the older guys.  Freshman guys, already horribly drunk from pre-partying in their rooms, wait for the night to start by walking endless circles around the blocks in smaller, but nevertheless tight-knit groups.  The sad part is not that this scene is so repetitive over the weekendsówhich it obviously isórather, that not one of those older students remembers that they, too, were once a part of that very same crowd.

    Freshmen girls get the most negativity thrown directly in their faces; they are deemed easy and slutty for dressing and acting as they do.  However, if you, as a freshman girl for example, get horribly inebriated, you hit on seven juniors at once, and then you wake up in the same clothes you went out inómost likely the black ìsororityî pants and halter you so delicately put onówith make-up smeared across your face, and you walk the long ìwalk of shameîóthat is the walk where you keep your head bowed because other students can obviously tell you didnít sleep in your own bed that night and only assume where you could have sleptófrom the apartment of the nice junior coed who, once again, let you stay over for fear of her guy friends taking advantage of you, back to your dorm then yes, perhaps you do deserve a slap in the face from the society that is the university.

    Freshmen guys have much socially with which to deal as well.  However tiny the affairs may seem to the general population, they are of utmost importance to those around them and, of course, large keys to their reputations as freshman guys.  For example, you can never wear enough cologne, saturate the air; apparently girls want to smell of Cool Water themselves, which they will if they get close enough.  As a rule, wear clothing that has the label obscurely sewn on the garment; everyone loves to know you paid too much.  Also, play it cool around those you want to attract: if possible, put down the women you are trying so desperately to draw--unfortunately this action will continue long after your collegiate years.  But, such is life when you are chasing after ìmaterial girlsî forever wearing black pants.

    After the first year, however, you grow up and look back on your past mistakes, if only for a second.  Only then can you laugh when you see the seas of students, whom are obviously freshmen, coming toward you.  You continue the college cycle:  you live, you learn, and you finally stop wearing so much cologne and makeup.