Old Dominion University

Most people assume that the best part of The Real World fiasco was my newfound notoriety.  Yes, the fifteen minutes of fame was fun, but my most satisfying takeaway is knowing that I can survive that intense drop in temperature.  That whatever physical hardship comes at me now, it can not possibly be colder than atop that windmill.

And then I fall overboard into Puget Sound.

Instantly soaked to the bone, I am woefully underdressed for these conditions.  The waves brought on by this storm are lifting us up ten feet at a time.  My neck is slightly warmer, since there is a sled dog, Charlotte, slung across my shoulders.  She belongs to my newest acquaintance, who is also in the water with me.  Taylor...gosh, I don't even know his last name...Taylor is having a time keeping afloat with the other dog, Moose, who is much heavier.

When the ferry almost tilted over, we were on a crew-only deck with few protective barriers.  Holding onto the dogs, we both tried to catch the railing with one hand as we slid down.  I have a bruised forearm and Taylor tells me he thinks his hand is broken.  His head is bobbing in and out of the water as Moose keeps pushing him down.  I gesture at him to let go of Moose.  He can balance on his shoulders like Charlotte is on mine.

While Taylor is struggling with this task, I wave my arms wildly at the ferry.  Most of the windows are up on higher decks.  I can't even see the top of the ship, the clouds are so low.  I realize no one can see us.  I lower my arms, not knowing how long I will need those muscles to stay afloat.  I am amazed at how calm Charlotte is on my shoulders.  I guess full time sled dogs need a higher tolerance for hellish conditions.

Though the ferry is still rocking, it's also slowly sailing away from us.  I see no one on deck, but I go to yell anyway.  I have to cup my hands close to my mouth to keep seawater and rain from streaming in.  My inhalation is short since I'm already breathing quickly.  My voice is weak and scratchy and my yell carries nowhere.  Taylor probably can't even hear me ten feet away.

Now I can barely see the ship.  I see no land.  I see nothing but my own hair as Charlotte ruffles it into my face.  She catches her toenail on my hair tie and pulls it out, along with some hair by the roots.

Enough.  Can someone else man up now?

"Taylor!"
"Persephone!"  We have to swim closer and scream to be heard over the storm.
"Which way should we swim?"
"Swimming will tire us out more and get us more lost.  Better to stay on the ferry path."
"We're just going to tread water till the next ferry?  That's suicide!"
"I've got one good hand.  I can't swim."
"Come on, do you want me to drag you?"
"Maybe."
I know it's weird that I am thinking about this in our state, but at that moment any possibility of me sleeping with him died.
"You don't have to flex the muscles.  Just wrap the fingers together and paddle.  Is it that bad?"
He shows me his swollen purple hand.
"Okay, it is bad."
He says, "Let's try your idea anyway."
I help him tear the sleeve of his shirt and tie it around his right hand.  Its effects are probably zero, but it gives us a tiny task-completion boost.
I turn to look at the fading ship, my one point of reference, but it's gone.
I say to Taylor, "Okay, I am getting scared now.  I can't even see the back of the ship - bow, stern, whatever it's called.  I'm not a nautical person.  I am a businessperson.  I am supposed to be boarding my flight to Singapore soon.  I should have never gotten on the ferry!"
"Then why did you come with me?"
"I did not think I would fall overboard!"
"No.  Let me restate it.  Why did you come with me and not just go on your own?"
"Because it's nice to have company?"
"Or because you were attracted to me."
I cock my head and squint.  Is he taking it this direction, of all times, of all places?
"Wwwwhat!  What are you talking about?  Can I not have one day where someone does not hit on me?"
"I know.  Life must be rough as an attractive woman."
"What are you, Taylor?  God's gift to womankind?"
"Hey, I don't go around flirting to get free sled rides."
"I'm not going to give it up because you showed me around Seattle.  You could've refused."
"Like you're refusing right now."
"Right now.  Right now?  Are you kidding me?  Right now we are lost, freezing - hopefully not to death - and it's almost night."
"Here's a tip, then we can drop it: if you want to know if a man is going to hit on you, look at his hand.  If there is no ring, the answer is yes.  If there is a ring, the answer is still yes."
I roll my eyes.  "What a great husband you'll be."

We float silently for a long time.

The sky is darkening.  The waves are calming down, but there is still a thick fog all around us.
Taylor says, "We need to conserve body heat if we want to make it through the night.  Then I pray it clears and the morning ferry will see us.  Come here.  Put your left arm around me."

We squeeze together, chest to chest.  Our heads are over each other's left shoulder, cheek to ear.  Our right arms are out, slowly treading, slowly tiring.
I haven't separated my fingers in a while.  I think they're starting to freeze together.
The dogs are half submerged, paws and heads over our right shoulders.

We float.

I am tired.  Tired in the sleep way, not just the sore muscle way.
I burble out in a monotone: "I want to cut open this dog.  Stick my head in its guts for warmth."
Taylor's eyes are closed as he answers.  "We're not going to do that."
"Okay.  A hot tub."
"I don't even want a hot tub.  I want to lie down, dry, in a hundred yards of soft flannel.  Then a grounds crew will roll me up like a burrito."
"I want a burrito."
"Me too."
"With dog meat."
"No."

We float.

"I don't want to lose my hand, Persephone."
"You won't lose your hand, Taylor.  We're keeping it warm."  His left arm is sandwiched between us.
"It's broken and frozen.  I think they will amputate it.  I will need a new job.  I can't drive a dogsled with one hand."
"I can drive my car with my knees."
"Dogsled is different."

We float.  My sentences lose their structure when my words sputter out of my blue lips.
"Lose hand not end of world."
"Let me shave your head."
"Lose hair end of world."

We float.  I am reduced to mostly noises.  My eyes hurt.
"Ngghhhh."
Taylor joins me in the subzero grammar club.  "What you say?"
"Ngghhhhhh.  No shine light in face."
"Not me."

Our mental processing has slowed.  Charlotte and Moose, silent for hours now, start barking.  It is a sharp pain to my ears.  I pry my eyes open.  They catch fire.  The sky was deadly black a second ago.  Now it's bright enough to bring a headache.
Am I dead?
I can see two figures under the light.  My money is on God and Jesus.  One of them speaks.
"Sir!  It's the corpses.  They're being devoured by mer-wolves!"
"Step aside...they're not dead."
I hear splashing, coming closer.  My vision is still spotty from the light.  Next thing I remember is being hauled up and over into a sitting position.  Never felt so good to sit.  I feel something...dry!  I blink.  Things slowly come into focus.
I almost sound disappointed when I say, "We're not dead?  Where am I?  Who are you?"
"Lieutenant McDonough.  You are aboard the USS Monarch, ma'am."
Taylor is sitting next to me, also wrapped in a blanket.  One of the officers is toweling off the dogs.
Taylor asks, "How did you navy guys find us?"
"US Coast Guard.  After your ferry docked, no one came to claim the dogs in the kennel.  We retraced the path of the ferry to you."
Taylor looks at me.  So he was right.
I say to him, "You never did tell me your last name."
"Constant."
The dog-toweling coast guard guy says, "That's a good sailor's name.  Tell your sister Susan hello."
Taylor looks at him.  "Huh?"
"Susan."
"Uh, I don't have - "
"It's a joke!  Did you sleep through all your classes or just American History?"
"I'm Canadian."
"Sorry to hear that."
Lt. McDonough says, "Stop harassing them, officer.  Folks, this ship is due to be sent for recommission in District 5 in Norfolk, Virginia, tomorrow morning.  Technically, now, this morning.  It is our honor to return you safely to US soil for our final District 13 assignment.  There is medical staff awaiting you on shore."
We both thank the lieutenant.
Taylor says to me, "I'd still like to meet up on your next..."  He seems to measure his words, "...stopover."
I smile.  "Next stopover, definitely."
He then asks the lieutenant.  "Are we going back to Seattle?"
"No.  We will be landing in the town of Sequim."
I laugh.  "Ah ha!  Skwim."

Accidentally deleted my Norfolk photos, so here's your basic Constant Center shot

Drexel University

25 Oct 2008. A new feature on the CCP is campus photos. There is one for Drexel below but in a few weeks they will start showing up regularly beginning with UNC Asheville. Getty Images will still act as stand-in when my photos turn out blurry and useless, which happens quite often!

"What do you want?"
"I want to sing - "
"You sing beautifully!"
" - without causing destruction!"
Maria shut up. No argument there. But this was an unnatural operation Mario was talking about. Dangerous too. Obviously, there were not many doctors who knew how to safely remove a dragon's pyrovox glands. She could not help but protest Mario's proposal.
"You would be giving away what makes a dragon a dragon."
Mario crushed the rocks under his feet.
"What makes a dragon a dragon is not about the smoke on its breath but the fire in its belly!"
Mario caught a spark of fright underneath Maria's normally strong exterior. He forced himself to lower his voice.
"I have made my decision. Do you stand by me?"
"Always."
Mario relaxed. He walked over to Maria for a dragon's kiss, nuzzling her neck. He spread his deep blue wings and lifted off the ground.
"I love you, Maria."
"I love you too. Be careful!"
Mario headed west. 600 miles and the Appalachian mountains lay between him and South Bend.

*TO BE CONTINUED*

Part 1: Notre Dame
Part 2: Toledo

Georgia State University

1 July 2006. I had heard awful things about this campus. Strictly a commuter school, no school spirit or atmosphere, sports coverage is lost in the Atlanta metromix. Perhaps GSU administration is listening to those cries - they are building and building and building. They are launching a football team, creating new on-campus housing by the barrelful, upgrading their sports conference from Atlantic Sun to Colonial, and flaunting their presence in the national academic rankings (especially in business and law). Their athletic logo is still a work in progress. Pounce is a cartoon blue panther who is not quite sure whether to be fierce or adorable. This frosted blue pint glass gives the apparent date of the school's founding - I suppose that is what the "13" signifies? It is frosted on the inside too so it's relegated to being a display glass and not for everyday use, though I'm sure it is perfectly safe and would not give me peanut cancer.

George Mason University

1 Dec 2005. The closest 'big time' university to my home, it is surprising it turned up this late in the CCP. This cup later made an appearance in the short film Uphoria, which was pitched to the Travel Channel who ultimately declined it. The catchphrase that all the kids are using, "There was a bar on campus. That's right - a bar!!" came out of this taping!



New posts will appear on Mondays now instead of Sunday after the acquisition of College Cup Project by Chick-fil-A Properties, Inc.

The College of William & Mary

5 Nov 2005. Yon colonial ales doth best be served in chill-ed tumblers! The logo on the cup in the photo is no longer the official athletic logo. The NCAA served W&M, along with many other schools, an ultimatum requiring the end of such offensive imagery to Native American peoples or else be banned from hosting postseason competitions. The original intent of the rule, to eliminate hurtful or innaccurate terms like redskin, indian, savage, etc. had been completely undermined at that point to be laughable and arbitrary. The Florida State Seminoles were allowed to continue their name and tradition of having an Indian chief ride a horse to midfield at football games carrying a massive spear. FSU claimed the Seminole tribe allowed usage of their name. The Illinois Fighting Illini were allowed to keep their name as well, deftly tapdancing their way to an explanation that the word 'Illini' denotes an Illinois resident, not just the tribal peoples. Then comes the W&M Tribe - formerly the Indians. The two feathers on the logo were deemed too harsh for our eyes and must be erased from all uniforms, letterheads, websites, fields, signage, co-eds' cheeks, etc. It has since been replaced by a classy but vanilla 'W&M' logo (see below) befitting an institution in its fourth century, but to have to change it at all was the most offensive aspect of this whole debacle. Gene Nichol, the University President got off a scathing parting shot to the NCAA that is both informative and entertaining. And Williamsburg was proud.

Virginia Commonwealth University

5 Nov 2005. Richmond gets a bad rap sometimes, and so does VCU by association, due to street crime. But they've done better recently and VCU has improved their campus as well. Nothing too noteworthy here, whether it be the bookstore, campus, ram-less cup design, or backstory. So here's a fictionalized summary of what happened:

---

Out of the muck of the James River crawled a man-beast. This man-beast was created one drunken night when a lonely vintner in Albemarle County got too friendly with one of his pet goats. Horrified at what was birthed months later, the winemaker took it far, far away, to a completely different culture: Richmond, Virginia. The city people of Richmond would be able to dispose of it in a cold act that the Charlottesville citizen could not bring himself to commit. In the rain, he set the little half-goat on the banks of the James, not permitting himself to look back as he walked away. In his mind, he was simply allowing nature to take its course. The waters above engorged the waters beneath. The abandoned crate held tight to its hideous cargo as it was swept away. Little did anyone know that the goat-human hybrid was hardier than most other goat-human hybrids. It survived the storm and landed on Belle Island, subsisting for many years on grubs, weeds, and chicken offal from KFC. It allayed its boredom with discarded books from Richmond's closed libraries. The fearsome beast's liberal education and growing interest in the world around him led 'Rammy' - as various news reports on his sighting would call him - to seek funding for a land grant institution. The welcoming people of Richmond, unaccustomed to a man-beast as they may have been, were glad to see a local interested in the education of its people. Years of administrative toil lay ahead, but they would soon pay off. Rammy was overjoyed when the doors finally opened to Virginia Commonwealth University. He served as its first president and athletic mascot.

James Madison University

There is no specific date for the JMU entry as I have collected a few along the years. Only a handful are shown in this photo here. There are two generic giant tumblers that fit in with the rest, a couple of pilsners that reveal the Duke Dog's face at the bottom of the glass when you finish your Dominion root beer, a glass bottle filled with purple and gold candies, a bulldoggin' reusable travel mug that I actually designed for a contest, a commemorative Madison Century soda bottle, an insulated stadium cup, and various other plastic throwaways. The 'Duke Dog and JMU' design has been replaced in some instances solely by the Duke Dog's head and collar for simplicity's sake. Other than the 'what does a duke have to do with a bulldog?' question, this logo is solid in layout and color. It could use more purple, but the two color version satisfies that argument.
In December 2004, JMU won their first Division I-AA football national championship without even playing a game in Harrisonburg. They were the first team to win four straight road games on their way to winning the title: Lehigh, Furman, William & Mary, and Montana (at a neutral site in Chattanooga).
JMU is another school in the Appalachians, specifically the Shenandoah Valley, an underrated part of the country visually and naturally. Be warned, Interstate 81 always has heavy truck traffic (as a north-south alternate to Interstate 95) but get around that and you will find civil war history, small town hospitality, gorgeous scenery, and open air poultry tractor trailers. Pluck 'em if you got 'em.

University of North Carolina, Wilmington

15 Nov 2004. "The Dub" lies on a flat, sandy, pine-stippled expanse on the east side of the port town of Wilmington. Their seahawk logo needs work, they need cash, and they belong to an indifferent athletic conference (the CAA's feeling may be fueled by Dub lacking that big money sport, American football). But a school cannot buy the priceless beach location - and the beach bodies - that make up the campus here. I chose my first rocks glass of the CCP, which later broke in transit. It was replaced on a subsequent trip back to North Carolina with the first coffee mug. Good thing though, that rocks glass was seriously unattractive. The moulding was fine but on it was etched an outline of 'UNCW' in fugly block letters that did not resemble any typeface the school has ever used. No photo survives to this day.

Hofstra University

6 Nov 2004. Hempstead, Long Island, New York. In between Kennedy Airport and Theodore Roosevelt's Sagamore Hill lies Hofstra, home of the...Pride. Hey, let's upgrade the sweetness of the Flying Dutchmen moniker for an improvement I hope?! No, just some big hairy cohabitating cats. But back in 2004 the nickname was still in limbo and there was not much of a logo to speak of. This nondescript tumbler is one of the worst on the list. The campus, a collection of brilliantly gray skydorms, is redeemed by a funky pedestrian tunnel bridge and the Islanders' arena next door. Hey, Hofstra's in the news for hosting the final 2008 presidential debate so this is a nice coincidence.

On this same day 400 miles south in Harrisonburg, a full and excited stadium witnessed this.

Towson University

1 Oct 2004. I only had a half-hour to find TU's bookstore, race in, quickly peruse the selection and make a purchase, and race back to the Towson Center before we faced off against the Tigers! I made it there just as they were closing. The staff allowed me in and I found a hardy little cup, the bubble-filled plastic giving your flat Fresca an appearance of new life. Thankfully, Towson had recently upgraded their logo from the old one that frightened little children with its gargoyle-like sneer, pictured below. A simple bold logo on a simple bold cup makes the Towson Tumbler one of my favorites.
Later on at William & Mary I saw the same bubbly style (but with green plastic) yet I could not allow myself to dilute the awesomeness that I found in suburban Maryland.

University of Delaware

First half of 2004. Exit 1 off of Interstate 95 into Newark. Pronounce the town right and you'll be welcomed into this public university where the most delicious of birds are hallowed sacred. When a school has such a wacky mascot as a Blue Hen, I try to grab a cup with its likeness. But at the beginning of the CCP, I was more interested in keeping with the oversized tumbler theme. One could do worse than the classic interlocking UD, but it does not capture the full Delaware identity that includes YoUDee, their unusually well-rendered cartoon chicken, and the bright blues and yellows.