*This article is intended to be a piece of satire. Enjoy!
Don’t pretend to be surprised by the title of this article. You know that your deepest, darkest thoughts have included throwing caution to the wind and consuming every warm morsel in sight this winter. It’s really not that sweeping of a declaration, is it? I’m letting myself go. There, I said it. What of it?
First of all, I’m single. I don’t have to worry about snuggling up with my boyfriend around the fire to watch Elf and drink some delicious frothy concoction, and to look into those non-existent beautiful gleaming eyes. No, instead, I get to cozy up with my leopard-print Snuggie while cradling a gallon of Swiss Miss and a jumbo pack of CVS marshmallows. Underneath my Snuggie are an enormous and well-worn pair of sweatpants from high school - I need a little room to grow, if you know what I mean – which is a perfect outfit for watching Sleepless in Seattle and eventually cry myself to sleep. And single ladies, trust me, I will not be able to fit into Beyoncé’s body suit when I’m through this winter.
Secondly, it’s cold. No, it’s freezing. No, more than freezing. It’s like the Polar Bears from the Coke commercial puffed a huge arctic wind toward the northeastern US. And for this very reason, like the bears, I plan on hibernating. In order to successfully hibernate in my dorm room, which seems to lack heat half the time, I will need to preserve a layer of fat on my body (blubber, some may call it) for proper insulation. I simply call that self-reliance and independence. What’s wrong with that?
On the same note, whatever master of winter created my quilted Michelin tire man North Face coat must have had in mind that to really be an authentic puffy white mass I would need a super squishy jacket to cover up any unsightly forms underneath my grandmother’s Christmas sweater. The makers of these winter coats are practically begging me to let myself go with their warm, squishy sweet disposition.
Lower and Mac are filled to the brim with delicious, mind-alteringly scrumptious foods that are simply irresistible. Why deny yourself these delectable nourishments? After all, you can cover up the consequences with the previously mentioned puffy jacket, your oversized sweater, and an unbuttoned pair of your favorite jeans.
After about five movies on a Saturday I have enough energy to harness up my sled dogs and make the trek to the dining hall, which will include stocking up for weeks as if we are on the brink of an apocalypse. Can you say chocolate chip cookies and mozzarella sticks anyone? Lumbering back to my room in my overstuffed north face, maroon sweatpants and Uggs, I have in my hands two hot chocolates (one for the walk back, and one for when I’m vegging on my bed), a warmed up peppermint brownie, some chicken tenders, a couple of cookies (I blacked out while putting them in the pastry bag) and to wash it all down—some froyo. My froyo is like my Diet Coke to my Big Mac, a small and thoroughly insignificant justification of my uncontrollable indulgence.
Go big or go home, Collegiettes! Snuggle up with your favorite mediocre dining hall fare, put on some Christmas music and a movie, and prepare to wallow in the wrappers of a group of deceased Reeses.