The animated movie “Thumbelina” came out in 1994, based on the story by Hans Christian Andersen. It’s about a small girl the size of a thumb named Thumbelina. It taught me everything I know about love.

In the movie, there’s a bird named Jacquimo who wears a hat and a fairy prince named Cornelius. I’m still attracted to him to this day. “Ice Age” (2002) is another movie I watched as a child.

UR fraternity Alpha Delta Phi held a party named after Ice Age on Saturday night. I attended it with my fraught adult body.

I give the concept of “Ice Age” a two because, although I enjoy glacial episodes just as much as the next gal, I like neither ice nor age.

As Manasvi, Amanda, Victoria, Claire, and I (not only am I very popular but I am also well-liked) entered ADP’s gaping hole of a doorway, I fully understood that it was a frat house, meaning everything around me was fucking boring and I’m fucking bored. Do you know about the fungal infection thrush? I just looked it up on Merriam-Webster.

I saw very little demonstration of the theme aside from a smattering of printer paper snowflakes hung around the room and a message written on a mirror reading “GET FROSTY,” with “FROSTY” underlined three times, just in case you weren’t sure. Who is Frosty? How does one become frosty? Is this message about the fungal infection thrush, which, according to Merriam-Webster is “marked by white patches in the oral cavity?”

The floor was steeped in alcohol in the oceanic basement, and sometimes when I brushed against a person passing me, the body part that touched them was kind of wet, and I was like, “Wow.”

In my notes about this party, I found the line “beast mode?” and I’m not sure, but I think so. It was so crowded that one could not move a feeble arm or leg to the frat classic that is “Just Dance” by Lady Gaga. I often found myself making the face like when you type a capital D and a colon, demonstrated here:

D:

Attendance receives a five for being robust yet disgusting.    

According to Merriam-Webster, a “cockle” is a “common edible European bivalve,” and I really think ADP could benefit from a few of those, or even just one valve. I couldn’t really do much since the basement was the canonical Tartarus Pit, as it appears in Greek mythology and the New Testament. As mentioned before, decorations were sparse, and these two experiences of Ice Age combined compel me to give ADP a score of one for atmosphere.

I often find myself wanting more from ADP. Their fraternity, as an abstraction, is your high school boyfriend that ate a lot of granola bars. And the granola bars had prunes in them. Like, at least spit in my nose or something.

Overall score rounds up to a three. I look forward to further degrading myself physically and emotionally by attending more soulless events this semester.



ADP’s Ice Age, reviewed

We teach the Dust Bowl as a cautionary tale. In every American history class, we learn how farmers in the 1920s and 1930s tore up millions of acres of native grassland across the Great Plains to plant wheat, how the deep-rooted prairie grasses that held the soil and trapped moisture were replaced by shallow crops and bare fields, and, when drought came in 1930, how the exposed topsoil turned to dust. Read More

ADP’s Ice Age, reviewed

I, a born-and-raised Venezuelan, was in the audience and left disappointed by the essence of the discussion. Read More

ADP’s Ice Age, reviewed

Mittal drew on her experience at the Department of Justice, describing the scale of the Jan. 6 prosecutions, which involved nearly 1,600 criminal cases. While the events were widely characterized as an unprecedented attack on democratic institutions, the legal system approached them through existing statutory frameworks. Read More