ALEXIS PRICE | email@example.com | Opinion Columnist
Prior to my freshman year of college, I did my research. I briefed myself on the quirks of college, preparing myself for these exciting four years of my life.
I asked my elders about their college experiences. I read online reviews. I even toured some colleges on my own. But what I decided would be the most authentic, factual source for my research was the Hollywood film.
Upon watching the numerous college-themed films—”The House Bunny,” “The Roommate,” “Animal House” and “Monsters University,” to name a few—I noticed a recurring theme: I was ultimately doomed. I am 5 feet 0 inches tall and look like I am about 15. I am not rich. And I do not possess the bubbly, pink qualities that make up Elle Woods.
But I also noticed a few recurring conceptions of college life that have proven to be extremely beneficial.
One, there are toga parties; and frankly, they are the most popular party genre on campus.
Two, “Legally Blonde” taught me that waltzing into law school is actually easier than the basic college application itself, as exemplified by blonde Barbie representative Elle Woods.
Three, Elle Woods also taught me resumes on pink scented paper are the ultimate key to success. If you are a contentious, stylish and unorthodox student, you will be able to partake in a real murder trial and win the case, all before graduating from law school.
Four, “21 and Over” made it evident professors are often even more wild than students. Though he or she may “rip two sheets of LSD” on a regular basis (and is regularly admitted into the school’s health clinic), the individual is still able to teach. After all, it is kind of funny.
Five, many of these films also taught me the $50,000 you are paying annually for an education is not really about the education at all. College is about your social life and parties. In reality, you do not have to attend most classes.
Six, and if you are not involved in Greek life or an acapella group, you might as well forget about having a social life.
Seven, “Sydney White,” among several other films, taught viewers most sorority girls are stuck-up, upscale, stereotypical blonde young women who have it out for others unlike themselves.
Eight, through these films, I have also learned that when you enter college, you immediately look roughly seven years older, with an impeccable physique—both the men and women.
So buck up, Butler students. We could use a few more Elles, toga parties and pretentious sorority girls. We are clearly doing college all wrong.