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Dear A Mitch: Post Grad Notes

November 1, 2011

Alex Mitchell
Dear A Mitch: Post Grad Notes

Oh Hey. How’s it going? Freshmen, nice to meet you. I hope you’ve all been enjoying a snazzy ole school year thus far. It’s been a cold minute since we said what’s up. The last 6 months as a CMC graduate have been fairly normal. I’m living in the smoggy, popsicle-melting sprawl of Mercedes and Trailblazer haters that you all know as Los Angeles – West Hollywood to be exact. I’m still maintaining the Dr. Evil hairdo, rocking skinny pants and vans, and continuing to cling to my absurdly strong fear of Spanish 33.  On most days I feel like this is the longest summer I’ve ever had, until I realized Halloween is over and I couldn't go to Harwood. It gets dark at six, the nights are chilly, and I’m beginning to see a decline in booty shorts on men in my neighborhood. I feel funny. I wonder, is this real life? Did these people respect my Gaddafi costume as much as I know you would appreciate the Facebook pictures of my virgin bodyguards?

So, after having these thoughts for a few days I started writing down some reflections on my membership to a society outside of the Claremont Bubble: what is cool about being free from school and what makes me yearn for the Van Wilder experience (Aravind would be my assistant). I made a list to organize my thoughts and avoid transitional sentences. Here it is:

1. Every weekend I seem to have the same internal struggle: cocktails at a bar vs. a forty, a Red Bull, and a bag of Hot Cheetos at home. See, on one hand it’s fun to dress nice and go to clubs where girls dance in cages. Yet nothing beats drinking Two Buck Chuck in you own apartment for a fraction of the price. When you’re a baller on a budget in the real world (like me – future bankers don’t worry) alcohol consumption suddenly enters your monetary conscience. What I’m trying to say is I can’t just walk into a Green Beach dorm room and flash my titties for a shot. DoS doesn’t pay for my booze anymore; they refuse to preserve our post-grad drinking culture. And to be honest, I don’t find it ethical that one percent of those associated with Claremont occupy ALL the free alcohol, while the rest of us are just hung out to dry. #Occupyclaremont.

2. It would be super nice to walk across the street and steal an entire loaf of 7-Grain Wheat Bread without the fear of getting arrested. That may be what I miss the most about college: the dining halls. More specifically, I miss my little curmudgeon, Dora. That’s right, Dora. If you’re a skinny white freshman girl who forgets your ID card a lot she’s probably made you cry by now. But she’s a sweetie underneath the growl, I promise. Dora and I were like two peas in a big swimming pool, just floating around talking about Luther Vandross. I made her a mix CD with love jams once. It was titled: To Dora, From a Sexual and Mythical Being. She told me I was crazy. I told her she should give me a free to-go box.

3. Having a shower I don’t share with a ton of other boys is fantastic. Stepping in body fluids doesn’t even occur to me these days. I can leave my towel in the bathroom without the fear of someone’s girlfriend borrowing it: Here babe, use the blue one. Oh thanks, I’ll leave it by the toilet because I feel no sense of accountability on a floor with 12 dudes. I especially don’t miss watching a bunch of buff freshman walk around shirtless all the time, trying to make me feel bad about these sexy love handles (sex handles). You gotta love a man with curves, amirite gurls!? #Feelingoodaboutmybody

4. It’s cool finally living near a Church of Scientology. Claremont is so anti-L. Ron Hubbard it makes me sick.

5. I don’t have any homework this week, or next. I’m not studying for a midterm. I don’t have to meet with a group of people later this evening to talk about a presentation we’re giving tomorrow and haven’t started yet. Just think, while you're writing a paper in Poppa, I’m chillin’ on the couch, sipping Malibu Rum from a crazy straw and taking shots of Bailey’s every time an overweight mom on Extreme Couponing gets their balance to zero. And you’re right, that sounds horrible. But guess what, it’s better than going to sleep at 3 am and waking up 5 hours later to print out an unedited first draft at Ryal Lab, jammed, South Lab, damnit, Poppa, sh*t, oh my God, I’m completely f*cked… #LTAFAIL

6. I don’t care how many times a week you have to walk to Pomona, trying to drive past a Journey concert at the Hollywood Bowl is a thousand times worse. LA is notorious for traffic. Everyone knows that. Actually participating in the crawl on a daily basis is a completely different beast. It literally drives me insane, turns me into a silent, deadly, scorpion-jacket-wearing driver. I put on snow gloves, turn the subs up for Nightcall, and sit, fuming internally, imaging Carey Mulligan staring into my eyes, saying nothing, falling in love. Then when I can’t take it anymore I just lay the horn on for every poor sonofabitch in a BMW slowly poisoning our atmosphere. UNITED WE SIT IN LEATHER AND AIR CONDITIONING!

7. Finally, and I know this to be true for many CMC grads, I miss being able to walk a few steps to chill with my friends. I miss watching the men’s golf team tear it up. Just kidding. But you know what I mean, being around a bunch of people all the time, not really planning on doing stuff, just going with the flow, maybe playing intramural sports if you’re not too hung over. It’s easy. And that’s great. It’s college. However, I am still curious about this real world business.

Now for my plug… I’ve been doing a lot of freelance work in LA so far, a mix of random shit until someone buys my new energy drink, METHWATER 2000. Seriously though, I’ve started a website with the help of CMC graduate Kevin Burke ’11. It’s called Cardboard Smile. Currently, I’m looking for content contributors, so if you’re interested in showing off a short story, art portfolio, or just think it would be cool to write for the blog portion, send me a sample of what you do. You can find the submission guidelines here, or email me at

Want more Dear A Mitch? Check out his advice on "measuring up," heavy drinking and making your dream boy fall for you.

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