My last punny headline

My opening anecdote begins the way a lot of Spec senior column anecdotes begin: It was nearly 4 a.m. on a Thursday night and I was sitting in the Spec office.

It was one of my first nights on as a weekend associate, back when 4 a.m. was an early night for Weekend. And it was before I swore off Koronet’s, so there was probably some nausea involved. And yes, maybe a Blue Moon or two.

The next part is a little different from the usual senior column anecdote: It was at the beginning of my short tenure as video games editor.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” the other weekend associate said, after asking me if I really did like video games, “but you’re so—normal.”

“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” I said, and got back to trying to think of punny headlines.

My co-associate meant that I seemed surprisingly normal in contrast to the stereotypical mouth-breathing, doesn’t-shower-enough, even-more-socially-inept-than-a-Speccie teenage boy who supposedly represents the average gamer. But whatever she intended, in a way she was right: When I was at Spec, I was normal.

Growing up, this was not the case. I was too nerdy for my girlfriends, who liked to pretend I didn’t spend most of my time playing video games and teaching myself Web design. I wasn’t nerdy enough for the really serious nerds (see above), because I spent the rest of my time shopping and watching chick flicks with my girlfriends.

When I first started at Columbia, I had the same problem I’d always had, except things were way, way worse all of a sudden. I was miserable enough to fill out some transfer applications, even though I never ended up sending any of them. I had no friends to speak of and mostly just spent every day playing “Guitar Hero II” until my eyes were bloodshot, sleeping through dinner, and then calling my mom, in tears because I’d slept through dinner. I considered dropping out of college altogether.

And then—guess what part of the senior column comes now?—I joined Spec. It was kind of a last resort for me. I had never been a “newspaper person” and I was terrified that Spec would be full of “newspaper people,” who would scoff at my lack of journalistic knowledge and/or talent.

But after enough goading from my parents, I decided it couldn’t hurt, so I signed on to review an art exhibit. I even clumsily turkeyshot for an A&E associate position that I didn’t get.

And, before I knew it, I was spending over 40 hours in the Spec office every week. I wrote my school papers about journalism, drank only Blue Moon, embarrassed myself at Spectails, then nursed my hangovers in the office the next day. I cursed K4, coaxed Boobear, called Public Safety on cold nights, and cheered when the vending machine was refilled. I got locked out on the Spec roof, marveled at the beauty of pristine snow on Broadway at 5 a.m., and went to Tom’s after all-nighters, delirious from the caffeine that I really shouldn’t have been drinking because I get heart palpitations.

Forget editing, forget reviewing, forget reporting. Forget journalism—I’m no longer interested, as it turns out.

What I found at Spec, and the reason I stuck with it, was acceptance. I didn’t have to be just nerdy or just not nerdy. Instead, juvenile and cliché as it might sound, I could be myself and be accepted for who I was, for the first time in my life.

All of a sudden, I went from having no friends to knowing and liking what seemed like hundreds of people. I could talk about video games and go dress shopping for Blue Pencil Dinner with the same girls. Having lots of fonts on my computer wasn’t something to hide—it was something to boast about, preferably loudly, and in competition with someone else. When my friends and I made a real-life “Katamari” level in the office one night, people only rolled their eyes because we weren’t doing our work—not because we were being so ridiculously lame.

Sitting in the Spec office that Thursday night years ago, I didn’t know that it would be the first of hundreds of such nights. If I had, I probably would have taken it easy on the Koronet’s. Also I would have—

Actually, how about this: If not for Spec, I would have been embarrassed to end my senior column by telling you all what I’m going to do as soon as I send it in. Namely, finish an episode of “Buffy” and play a couple rounds of “Super Smash Bros. Brawl.” So thanks, Spec, for everything.

And much love.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in history. She was the video games editor on the 131st associate board, the arts & entertainment editor on the 132nd managing board, and the managing editor on the 133rd corporate board. For the record, she has 458 fonts on her computer.