Lauren Chaplin: Week 1
LAUREN CHAPLIN has left her column to the very last minute. General panic, and the thought of Hunter Allen, leads her to pity-blowjobs and the re-enactment of a coffee break.
I’m flustered, panicked, and a little overwhelmed.
The clock is ticking and writing a column is proving to be more stressful than writing an essay. Why did I agree to this? Mollie and Will definitely peer pressured me. I was probably drunk at the time. Actually I was most certainly drunk. I think I was also in Cindies, home to most of my questionable life decisions. Also home to DJ Sam, who keeps messaging me on Tinder (subtext: boys are flirting with me!!! omg!!!). Right Lauren, stop digressing. Focus.
Column Column Column.
Maybe if I repeat the word ‘column’ enough times I’ll have a column. And a character assassination from the comments section. So maybe not. Or I could review the other columnists. Not sure how well that would go down though. Hunter deserves a special shout out though.
Time for a coffee break I think.
Still struggling to write this column. I’ve called in help. Immy, Jake, and Grace are currently standing in my room counselling me about how to be funny, which I feel is a new low. They’re like management consultants – only for journalism instead of management – and I don’t have to pay them so they’re a bit more like friends.
Grace – “I really don’t know what to say”
I don’t think Grace has a future in management consulting.
Grace – “You can write five hundred words about your dinner”
Another sterling suggestion.
Grace – “I really don’t think a stream of consciousness column would be good though”
I think I’m going to have a mental breakdown.
Jake – “Can I have a quote?”
Lauren (that’s me!) – “No”
But now Jake is on the verge of tears so I’ve given him a pity shout out. I have a friend who gives pity blow jobs and I feel this is a similar concept, albeit slightly more intimate. Grace has just repeated her ‘dinner’ idea, but, unlike cheese and George Clooney, I don’t think it’s getting better with age. Maybe I could write a whole column on Grace, and each subsequent week could focus on a different friend. Although I’d probably have to start making up friends by Week 5 so it’s not a plan with much longevity in it.
I was totally wrong to slate Grace’s idea. Dinner has inspired me. Dinner was my muse. Girton College has invested in some new salt and pepper dispensers, their ergonomic lines symbolising a new era for our college, a simpler one, full of hope and joy and modern dining utensils. These two small porcelain sculptures are the start of something special. I’m just not sure what yet.
In fact, these days, I don’t seem to be sure of much. I only discovered that Queen Bey + Kelly + Michelle weren’t the original Destiny’s Child line up last week, which pretty much destroyed everything I’d ever taken for granted. But maybe that’s a topic for next week’s column, because the word count is approaching six hundred and I’m sure most of you have already stopped reading.
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As with the majority of my essays, I’ve reached my conclusion without having actually arrived at a point. In some way, though, isn’t that just a metaphor for life? We measure our life in coffee spoons and girl bands and ergonomic salt dispensers, and then, one day, it’s all over. Bit of a profound end note, but then again, I did compare music to poetry in my supervision earlier, so I guess I’m on a roll today. To end, I’ll leave you with a short, introspective haiku.
//Wrote my first column//
//I’d rate it 3 out of 10//
//Try harder next week//