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12B - The Michigan Daily - Weekend Magazine - Thursday, April 15, 2004
The Michigan Daily - Weekend Mag
Scorr SERILLA - HA TVE IT is, MAGAINST IT
APRIL
I
S THE CRUELEST MONTH
With great pride and satisfac-
tion, I would like announce
here for the first time to my
family, friends and fans that I have final-
g secured post-graduation employment.
Yes I know things were looking a mite
grim the last couple months, rejection
letters were starting to pile up, and debt
collectors growing irate. Aw but you, my
many splendid well-wishers, may com-
mence with the collective sigh of relief
because all too soon I'll be joining the
American workforce.
Ahhh, feels good not to be facing the
grim emptiness of not knowing what
comes next, carrying that tentative anxi-
ety in the pit of your stomach, stumbling
toward graduation without a clue about
the future. Can you imagine that with
less than a week left in classes some poor
fools are still hanging out on the prover-
bial line, hoping a Vice President of
Human Resources at some toilet brush
distributor or wire hanger manufacturer
will take pity on their generic cover let-
ter?
So where to for your favorite heart-
throb columnist? I really should wait for
the contracts and my hefty signing bonus
to arrive, but oh what the hell, it's as
good as done deal anyways. I'm just too
keyed up to keep it to myself any longer.
Anyways I have been taken on (trum-
pet fanfare) as a crime beat reporter for
the Anchorage Daily News in Alaska. I'll
start immediately after graduation. No, I
will literally have to drive immediately
from the commencement ceremony on
May 1 to the Kalamazoo International
Airport where I'll board a two-man prop-
plane which will take me as far as
Portland, Oregon, after a few brief lay-
overs in rural North Dakota and
Wyoming. Once I arrive in the
Northwest, I board a bus bound for
Vancouver where I'm to catch a lift on a
salmon boat in route to Ketchikan.
Assuming the spring thaw hits as expect-
ed, I'll make the pilgrimage via dog sled
to Skagway and then trek on moose-back
the rest of the way to Anchorage.
My craggy manager editor is Tanner
Buckster, a cigar-chopping ex-Marine
originally from Louisville, Kentucky,
who's never really adjusted to the climate
change. Although he'll talk a tough game
and ride me endlessly about deadlines,
I'm sure we'll form a unique bond by
which he'll allow my to follow my
instincts on crazy one-in-a-million leads.
I picture myself becoming a local inves-
tigator of unsolved mysteries and strange
anomalies, revealing the dark underbelly
of the untamed, frozen wilderness, kind
of a "Magnum PI" of the tundra.
Standing up for justice and journalis-
tic accuracy won't be easy in the waste-
land of ice, so I'll have to recruit a ragtag
group of mismatched friends to assist me
in the inevitable adventures I'll
encounter week-in and week-out. There
will be Reggie Proudsoil, a half-Indian
one-armed tracker and demolition expert
who will show me the ropes of
Anchorage's notoriously mean streets.
There'll be kind-hearted Archie Peally,
an AWOL Royal Canadian Mountie hid-
ing on American soil from trumped-up
horse-assault charges. Plus the sexy
polar bear researcher, Dr. Amanda, who
will turn away my advances with her
razor sharp wit and pepper spray. And
let's not forget the mysterious unnamed
80-year-old prospector who has mystical
visions of future crimes every time he
comes into town from his claim in the
hills to buy mule feed.
Ah yes, it promises to be quite the ful-
filling life, rallying against the corrup-
tion of evil Gov. Frank H. Murkowski
and the ever encroaching Russian mafia.
So keep an eye out for my wacky
exploits, which will no doubt garner
national media coverage. A Pulitzer is
inevitable, a movie-deal as good as
signed. If you're a handsome movie star
looking to play me, you might want to go
ahead and contact me before I take off
because once the mystery solving gravy
train starts a rolling, move your wrinkled
ass out da' way Angela Lansbury. I'm
coming through.
- Editor's Note: Scott just pulled his
final all-nighter of his undergrad
career to finish a massive, overdue
term paper At the exact moment he
finished that mess, he received an e-
mail turning him down for a job as a
junior editor at a full figure women's
fashion magazine. Depressed, he col-
lapsed on his keyboard and when he
awoke found this nonsense spewed out
on the screen. Having already missed
his sworn deadline, he quickly sent
this off without reading it. The only
wisdom he wished to impart was this:
"Don 't let them send you to
Grandma's so she can teach you gin
rummy and make you bland."
I
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SEVA
Continued from Page 7B
Atkins's lovers tend to go with an
omelette or other egg dish, which
can be rounded out with a side of
steamed broccoli. For South Beach
fans, Seva has many dishes with
"good" carbs (ones that are whole
and complex) and also beans. And
for vegans, a letter "V" next to an
item on the menu denotes the dish is
made with no cheese, dairy or honey.
Even people with food allergies
are in luck.
"We're one of the few places you
can find out for sure what's in your
food," Jackson said. "We have an
"answer" book with all the ingredi-
ents for every dish listed."
Seva's most popular dish is the
Enchiladas Calabaza - which has'a
filling made of butternut squash,
cream cheese, green onions, cumin
and cinnamon, and topped with your
regular Mexican sides of sour cream,
salsa, cheese and homemade corn
chips.
"You certainly won't leave hun-
gry," Jackson said.
Seva will likely continue to be a
favorite among students and city res-
idents because it is the only vegetar-
ian restaurant of its kind in the area.
The Earthen Jar, which is right
around the corner, only offers food
by the pound and does not have sit-
down dining.
SEVA
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"A bittersweet film that
tells the story of Palestinian
life as eloquently as
anything ever done."
Jonathan Curiel, SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
3033 W. Liberty
Between Stadium & Wagner
By Punit Mattoo
Daily Arts Writer
2333 S. State Street
1 mile north of 1-94
www.selfstorage. netlnss
Once upon a time, sorority girls
could be identified by the presence
of North Face fleeces, Frappuccinos,
and cell phones firmly glued to one
ear. As time passed, however, more
and more women outside the Greek
system embraced the same look, and
the University's sorority girls
became indistinguishable from the
general population. Upon realizing
this grave turn of events, I imagine
much discussion and debate was
brought about on how to make the
Greeks stand out in a crowd. The
Panhellenic members finally solved
the problem with the introduction of
the worst fashion trend on campus:
sorority ass-pants.
With shirts proclaiming one's
Greek alliance covered up due to
Ann Arbor's dependably cold weath-
er, sororities turned to the next best
place to draw attention: their own
asses. Like a suburban gang, each
sorority member uses the 'ass as a
billboard' strategy to convey her
allegiance. The red and blue used by
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the Bloods and Crips are replaced
with a series of letters we wouldn't
know without having gone to our
fair share of frat parties.
The great irony of these sweat-
pants lies in their purpose. In the
form-fitting fashion of late, female
clothing has been designed and
worn for the purpose of accentuat-
ing various physical assets. Sorority
sweatpants, however, draw attention
to an otherwise pleasant rear end
and cruelly obscure what lies
beneath with their general shape-
lessness as well as those godforsak-
en letters.
This trend directly affects the
male population as well. Now any-
time a guy, bored in class, is trying
to get a view of that hot girl who
sits a row in front of him, he
encounters a Greek spelling lesson.
This leads to awkward staredowns
with a girl's ass while he tries to
decipher the message. A harmless
little peek is turned into a full-on
gaze, and, after a little while, peo-
ple start to notice.
An even worse trend than the
sorority letters is the spread of Juicy
Couture pants. Often a fashion disas-
ter perpetrated by sorority ass-pant
wearers, Juicy fans stick out on cam-
pus as those spoiled enough to
spend an exorbitant amount of
money for what is essentially a
tracksuit. Never mind the fact that
these girls are walking around cam-
pus looking like they're coming
straight from a gym - the most
egregious aspect of the popular
velour pants is that they cost so
much money. The idea that one
would pay more than $80 to look like
a scrub doesn't seem to make sense.
In addition, the implied sexual con-
notation of "Juicy" on these J-Lo
wannabes leave those stuck walking
behind to wonder what would pos-
sess someone to declare their ass
such a valuable commodity.
So ladies out there, as we head
into summer and eventually a new
LARGEST SELECTION OF F)
Than
you Michigan Daily Leaders
0
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