Amateur Poetry: Who You’d Be Today

Who You’d Be Today

You’d be eight years old today.

And as with any girl who wakes to

Find herself one year older,

You’d hop downstairs and

Grab me and Dad for

Two sweet kisses,

And your milk.

You’d be a ballet dancer today.

And excitement would take over

Whenever I let you wear

Your pink tutu, white tights, and shiny tiara.

Your teacher might fear your

Spontaneity and free spirit,

But I’d always love you for that.

You’d be a fighter today.

Getting you to bed would mean

Hours of me bribing, and you crying,

But I wouldn’t mind

As long as in the end

You’d sleep peacefully in your bed

With covers wrapped around you tight and

Sweet, sweet eyes contentedly closed.

I can imagine your smile—starry.

I always hope that

It’d be like your father’s, since his

Was always so bright and genuine.

But the light has dimmed overtime,

With the thought of you.

I sit here in my kitchen, on a Saturday morning,

Moving around charred toast,

Sipping on cold coffee,

Thinking of you,

While my friends,

Mothers with daughters of their own,

Go to ballet class.

Their daughters are so nice,

So innocent,

So free,

So loved.

My heart throbs and twists and pulls

And I can’t help but think

About who you’d be today

If you hadn’t died inside me.

The Onion Article: Weird Girl Only Cool When Drunk

Maria Ankundinov, the girl people usually stay away from in the daylight, became the life of the party at Timmy Jackson’s end of the year bash last Friday.

Ankundinov decided to abandon her coop at Fairfield University’s Dimenna-Nywhat’shisface Library and emerged from darkness when she attended a fucking crazy party on a whim. She wasn’t invited, but people ended up liking her anyways because they were drunk out of their minds.

“Yeah, she was in my HI 101 class. I, like, didn’t really like her,” said Ashley Stevenson ’14 to the reporter on scene as she was holding her vomiting friend’s hair back in the backyard of Jackson’s sketchy apartment. “But now she’s totally fun! She really knows how to drink.”

Students reported seeing Ankundinov chugging three Bud Lights before participating in a rousing round of Absolut Rio shots. Dressed in questionable clothing that looked like a rainbow barfed on her, she then managed to win a beer pong game with a group of acne-faced freshmen.

“I’d tap that,” said Jake Bryant ’12 as he sat in a corner and creepily eyed prepubescent-looking girls partying in the opposite side of the room.

The Ankundinovs were so proud that their daughter was getting a social life. Marcie, Ankundinov’s mother, said in an official statement to the public: “I used to hate my daughter so much because she didn’t have any social skills. But I now like her a bit more. Congratulations, Mallory.” Her husband later told her that she said her daughter’s name wrong. Marcie seemed surprised.