Minus The City: Swug Swag

Paige Schlesinger

Welcome back, errbody! The sun is shining, the birds are singing, my room is sweltering, and all the biddies are dressing inappropriately to class. It’s another new year in Hamilton!

A new year means a lot of new things: new classes, new clothes (thanks, Mom), new froshies, and new seniors. As this year is my last year at Colgate (audible sob), I have been thinking deeply about many important issues, e.g. getting a job after graduation, the pros and cons of conditioning my hair, and whether or not Robert Downey Jr. will leave his wife and move upstate to willingly chain himself to my bedpost and ravish me on command. I have also been wondering whether or not I can be classified as a “SWUG.”

For those unfamiliar with the term, SWUG stands for “Senior Washed Up Girl.” Urban Dictionary uses it in a sentence as follows: “I texted two sophomore guys and got rejected by both, but I don’t even care because I have a bottle of wine and my $150 vibrator–I LOVE SWUG LIFE.”

I can legitimately argue both sides of my case, both in favor of and against being “SWUGly.” Some reasons in favor of include: I am a senior and I am a girl. Recently, I have had approximately ZERO success with dudes as apparently I have developed a proclivity for discussing “fracking” and “fictional creature  fetishes” at length at the Jug.

Wine is my significant other. I may or may not be as cute as I think I am. Against: Having spent the last semester abroad, I have returned to Colgate more cultured and hotter than ever.

This is mostly a result of gaining 12 pounds  whilst abroad, and having to work out an extra lot during the summer to  regain my petite and remarkably adorable figure. I am also petitioning for  “Weight Gain As A Result of YOLOing Too Hard” to become an actual medical  condition.

My outfits are just as cute as they have always been, as my clothes are pretty  much the same as freshman year. I have yet to be rejected this year. Although, I have also made zero  propositions, so I’m not sure if this counts. My crush has hugged me two times already this semester.

Both times were intentional, i.e. he did not trip and accidentally fall into my arms. He did,  however, purposely wrap his strong, muscular arms around my little frame.  It was glorious. I am definitely as cute as I think I am.

So, yeah, I am not some washed-up cougar lady. Sure, there are always (and will always) be those nights when I just want to come home, drink an entire bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and swoon over Tropic Thunder (great movie, by the way), but those are relatively few and far between.

I much prefer making a fool of myself in public and letting all the boys lust after me (which happens all the time in my head).

In conclusion: if you are a SWUG and proud of it, EMBRACE THAT SHIT. Even if you’re elderly in Colgate years, you’re still the youngest and hottest you’ll probably ever be again. Just do what you do. Life is short.

Also, if you are an underclassman, COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS AND DON’T BE MEAN TO US GRANNIES. You will all be in the same position some day (unless you flunk out, in which case, LOLZ, sorry, you fail at life), so please, do have pity, and leave some sexy, non-frat boys for the rest of us.

Contact Paige Schlesinger at [email protected]