Smile Politely. Speak Directly. A Champaign-Urbana Culture Blog

Last night I was walking to Champaign’s Brass Rail, talking about Chicago, and how my friends there had referred to me as “country mouse” when I moved to Andersonville in 2000.

“Bright lights, big city,” I said. “I was used to milking cows and picking beans, and a hometown you could blink and miss driving down our one paved road.”

First sniff

Where do I begin? How about where I left off? Plenty is different from the last time I wrote, but then again, even more is probably the same. Though life is never defined by what simply refuses to morph or transform. No, my friends, life lives and dies by the idea of change and moreover the act of embracing it. I’d like to believe I am changed in more ways than one.

Seth Fein in 30 Years

Less than three years ago, I didn't think much of Champaign-Urbana--that is, I didn't think about it much at all. I'd grown up about an hour south of the cities, on my parents' farm, mostly lying in the grass with a book, or piecing art together in my upstairs bedroom--your average environment in which a touchy-feely liberal artsy girl would flourish. Flourish I did, Punky Brewster wardrobe, Tori Amos mix tapes and all, and in the summer of 2005, I was just piecing together my summer plans when I was asked by a family friend to house-sit his 1950s place at the border of Hessel Park. I moved into the house in early June with a pink thrift-store suitcase full of dresses, expecting a lazy summer of tennis at the park and ice cream from Jarling's across the street. Champaign-Urbana was just another stop on my great journey of finding Where I Want To Be and What Will Make Me Happy, this surely beautiful place where everyone knows your name and has something to share.

Hello Gentle Reader. I am the Campus Wit.

I attend the University of Illinois and find absurdity around every corner. Being a wit, I feel it is my duty to satirize and bring to light many of the ridiculous and horrible facets of campus life. As I walk around campus, I actively hate every person I see. With every passing face, thoughts of derision and rancor enter into my mind. No one escapes my inner scorn. I’m not a racist. I’m an equal opportunity hater. I don’t care about your race, gender or creed.

I can find something to hate in everybody.