I’m a Pitzer first-year. Not a
freshman, freshy, frosh, or any other related title. The root ‘freshman’ contains politically incorrect hierarchical and gendered characteristics, so I
am irrefutably, absolutely, and indefinitely, a first-year student—until I
get to be a second-year student, anyway.
The moment we receive that special
letter of acceptance from our future school, we form expectations. Some of us expect a cut-and-dry
college experience riddled with late nights at the library and maybe a cup of
noodles. Others expect something that looks more like Animal House or American Pie.
Regardless of your expectations, you’ve
probably bumped into a party at CMC or inadvertently walked through Mudd on any
given night and noticed a friendly game of beer pong. Or maybe you’ve even witnessed a Pomona or Scripps party from time to time. If any of you have
wandered onto Pitzer on a Saturday night during prime party time, you’ve
probably noticed how dead it is. Even the chickens—yeah, we’ve got chickens—are asleep as the 5Cs rage in togas and lingerie.
From what I’ve noticed, Pitzer first-years
are thirsty. In the first two weeks of college, all parties are seemingly
mandatory: All you have to do is mention a midnight event and we’ll go. If there
is a party anywhere on the 5C campuses, there will be a herd of Pitzer first-years
led by the promise of collegiate soirees. Eventually, though, we began to yearn
for closer parties and more of them, so we started throwing our own. We’re
still out and about, but our desire for fun demanded supplemental shindigs at
home.
Here’s the breakdown of my average
Saturday before we start the fun at home: We begin with the walk to CMC. Upon
arrival, I realize how very far from 21 I really am, and head over to Mudd. I’m
all about immersing myself in cultures other than my own, but something about bonfires
and Skrillex in unison freaks me out. The first time I saw it, I felt like I had entered some sort of post-apocalyptic society, what with all the people ‘napping’ in the grass, scattered fires, and groups of people destroying things to throw in said fires. Can you blame me? (I thought that maybe I was acting prude, so
one night I gave Mudd a real chance. I think that portion of my evening boiled
down to one central experience: trashcan sangria.) Anyway, I went back to CMC
and went through that whole 21 years of age problem again, so I made my way to
Pitzer.
Pitzer
parties can give you whatever you want. There are at least a dozen shindigs
around the first-year residence halls and at least one good one in the Phase II residence halls. Mead
is a foreign land where first-years fear to tread, but judging from the
incoherent obscenities shouted down from the balconies, they have a good time,
too. Otherwise, you’ll find everything from rooms overflowing with people and
loud (hipster) music you’ve never heard of to a few friends crowded around a
wholesome game of “Grand Theft Auto V.” Occasionally you’ll find someone
listening to vinyl, checking their home brew of kombucha, munching a farm fresh
carrot, and sketching their roommate. Some parties are livelier than others,
but like I said, you can find a variety of options to suite your tastes.
The bottom
line is that all the 5C parties are a fantastically fun time, but if ever you need to mix
it up with poker nights, hipster ragers, or some GTA, grab your closest Pitzer
friend and head over to the residence halls. Even us first-years know how to throw a good
party.