The Misc says goodbye to best EIC since ’Nam

Since the end of last April, I have devoted my mind, body and sexual appetite to a higher power, The Miscellany News, and as odd and questionable my decision to do so, swearing my undying and unwavering allegiance to this paper hasn’t taken that much of a toll on my life (note to the Administration: The Misc in no way endorses hazing—the sacrificed squirrels and blood offerings were only done by me. The Misc is perfect, we are perfect).

Indeed, I consider the heavy bags under my eyes the most appealing feature on my perpetually tired face, a sign that I served my time on this rag well. I’m hoping these babies can earn me a free year-long membership into Poughkeepsie’s RCC (Raccoon Community Center), which, no matter what anyone tells me, I know deep within my shriveled up, bottomless soul exists.

And if I don’t think about how much better my cumulative GPA would look going through a shredder than appearing on the bottom of my transcript, I can totally look back on the past two semesters as the high points of my short—and possibly shortened—life. Between the caffeine highs and all-nighters, I’ve easily shaved about 23 years off my life, meaning that I should be hitting my mid-life crisis at about the age of 28. Even so, Dean Chris Roellke knows me by name and often calls out to me while standing in line during Tasty Tuesdays, and that’s really all I need on this Chipotleless campus.

But sadly, dear readers, my reign…er…I mean…time as Editor-in-Chief has come to an end (pause for uproarious applause from student body at large, VSA Exec board and Council, Administration, faculty and staff and squirrel population).

Wipe your tears, all, I know this will be a rough transitional period for the entire campus, including all the students yet to matriculate who will sadly never get to experience my greatness (or lack thereof).

I assure you, however, that my successor, drag race partner, co-secret agent, Pynchon lover, fellow avocado enthusiast and coffee bean snorter, and potential New York roomie for the summer, Marie Solis, will do a [insert appropriate adjective of your choosing here] job running the most valuable source of information this campus has to offer….the Misc LiveBlog.

As for the paper? Meh. No one can really tame that beast,  however hard we might try. And, oh, do we try. I have the bite marks on my lower back to prove it.

Watching her move from Senior Editor to Editor-in-Chief has been a bittersweet experience. It’s not even a matter of losing all of the power I once held (and let me tell you, it was a shit-ton of power—like, who thought it was ever a good idea to put me in charge of things or people? I can barely remember to shower more than once a week).

But The Miscellany News has been like a baby for me these last couple of months. Not the cute kind, mind you—it’s resembled that kind of demon-infant mix that cries at all hours of the night and only allows you enough sleep so that you never actually get any rest. It leaves you feeling like you’re in some limbo where the difference between life and death is paper thin, but you’re definitely sure that you never actually want real kids, because the good Lord knows you’re not capable of caring for another life when you can’t even copy-fit  a 900 -word article.


After Marie’s election, I may have run around the office changing every computer password and locking the door to what is no longer my personal office/porn dungeon as an attempt to keep her away from my Precious. But then I moved on. I guess she’s the younger, more ambitious and enthusiastic foil to my tired, boozed-out sack of burnt out. And though it isn’t a requirement for the job, she can rock purple lipstick in ways that I never could. But, oh, have I tried…

So now what? Every morning, I check my email out of some Stockholm Syndrome-induced reflex. I lay awake at night dreaming about headlines with typos, angry emails from students, hate messages from my mother, student-athlete housing. Some things just don’t ever really leave you.

On the upside of things, there’s more freedom with this new sense of purposelessness that has been thrust upon me. I’m trying and, like Beyoncé, I’ve been drinking to figure this shit out. There are a lot of little things I have to sort out, a lot of little things before I can enjoy living a post-EIC life.


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