“Oh God, give me a Sewanee girl.
You know, the kind that doesn’t throw punches, but rolls with them. The kind that knows staying up till sunrise will always include watching that sun rise. The one that will skip a shower or two, eat a skinny bob’s, and drink a PBR. The kind that is light on the make-up, light on the mixer, and light on the drama. One that knows that if she didn’t have class she couldn’t buy it. One that knows b-movies and b-sides. One that can dance and isn’t above asking the guy. One that knows her way to the Res and also knows the only place to go afterwards is Shenanigans. One that listens to 91.3 because she has ten friends who dee-jay. One that has read the books on her shelf and most likely the books on yours. One that would give it all up to live at the Assembly.
One that can throw a goddamn frisbee. One who can tie a tie, drive a stick, and read a map. One that stands up, is opinionated, and isn’t afraid to argue her point. One that knows she doesn’t have to prove anything and realizes that is more becoming than anything she could possibly wear. One that throws up after drinking, not eating. One that knows work isn’t everything, and in fact it’s closer to nothing. One that knows what riding the moose is and that football games don’t start until halftime. One that hikes from Morgan’s Steep to the Cross and knows that Fall was created with Sewanee in mind. That no sky is as blue, no leaves are as loud, and no air is as crisp.
One that isn’t afraid to skip a class to make a trip down the Mountain. One whose family will gladly put you up, unannounced. One who doesn’t care what you wear so long as it’s comfortable. One who eats pizza with her hands, pancakes at the Pub, and drinks red wine from a blue solo cup. One who doesn’t care what you drive or even if you do drive. One that will let you copy her notes. One who’s up for Ultimate or beach volleyball at Cheston. One that doesn’t ask what fraternity you are in and forgets that she is in a sorority.
Oh God, give me a Sewanee girl. Amen.”