“I just need some f*cking zen, you know?”
Upon entering the second stage of grief after being waitlisted, yet again, for a coveted spot in PE-126 YOGA, Lila, 21, has no more cordiality left in her. To make matters worse, her “friend,” Caroline, has ignored her demands that she relinquish her spot.
“I know I’m supposed to be, like, a lady,” Lila said, “but I’m just tired of my chakras having to take the backseat to hers. She has like four F21 yoga mats and naps three times a day. My mom called me by the wrong name twice last week and my capstone is due, like, before I graduate—I have real problems.”
The story of Caroline and Lila is not unique. All across this small, liberal arts campus, classic relational aggression has evolved into outright confrontation, as upperclassmen women refuse to come to terms with a daunting fact: They will not be spending next fall’s Tuesday and Thursday mornings finding their spiritual centers in the recesses of Doremus.
“It’s f*cking ridiculous,” Lila told this reporter, clearly feeling the full force of personal victimization.
Caroline, whose several yoga mats were first found “shredded violently into pieces and arranged into the shape of a giant middle finger on her dormitory floor” by public safety, was unavailable for further comment.
-Bri Shaw ‘18
The Radish 