Can you believe the nonsense: when R was in high school, she spent the summer of her 16th year doing what all nerdy-nerds do. She took some classes. Sure, she chilled too, but she took some classes. She did some homework. She studied her nerdy little heart out, took some mad hard tests and sacrificed suns and funs, all in the pursuit of one aim: earning college credit.

But five years later, R walked into the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences registrar seeking to procure these long lost credits only to get lost amidst a forest of strongly adhesive red tape. She’d have to acquire a five-year-old syllabus, the signature of some unspecified high school official, the Professor’s social security number, e-mail password and ceremoniously burn his diary beneath a western facing tree. And, as the woman behind the counter handed her the mile high stack of forms, she cackled, “Yeah, it’s kind of a lot of paperwork, ha-ha.” Ha ha? HA HA?! Can you fucking believe the nonsense?

R: Kinda …

Of course you can, because it’s happened to you. You’ve been shut out of classes, waited for hours at the registrar and struggled through the ridiculous advising system in hopes of finally figuring out how to graduate this time. It sucks, it’s nonsense, and that’s why we decided to write this column on how we feel about the big red bureaucracy.

But as we wrote on, watching tennis, watching the Sleuth channel, making dinner and swapping stories, we came to an insurmountable roadblock and were forced to change direction. You see, one R suggested they use the bureaucracy stories as a segue ...

R: OMGZ THAT’S HOW THAT’S SPELLED?!

... for discussing Cornell’s utter failure in dealing with the Swinedemic. But the other R was like, idk I’m mad stoopid I think its gud.

R: That doesn’t even sound like me.

But really, what the other R was tryyying to say was she feels that Cornell is doing a passable job, if not the best.

R: Hey you say tomato, I say tomato.

And the truth is, R and R bump heads, fists (and uglies).

R: DON’T WRITE THAT!

Constantly.

R: In fact, R is actually a soulless, baby-eating, night-cheese-eating, red meat-eating REPUBLICAN.

R: And if you must know, R is a vegetable-eating, crunchy granola faced, idealistic tree-humper (Democrat).

R: War-mongerer

R: Blind-eye-turner

R: I HATE YOU SO MUCH.

So yeah, we have our issues. We hardly ever agree about public policy, who gets to type, the merits of built-in underwear, the correct daily dosage of Diet Coke, dogs v. cats, right v. wrong, Star Trek v. normalcy and whether or not Law and Order is creepy. But in spite of our many differences, we met, we bonded, we found common ground and sometimes we even get along. The point is that it’s possible to find friendship with people who aren’t exactly like you. Look at Moses and Jesus. They both had beards.

Although we may not have beards (right now ... thanks rasa spa!), we’ve developed a sense of mutual respect and learned that reasoned arguments are always worth consideration, even if they’re different from our own. College offers you a rare opportunity to be surrounded by so many different people with so many different experiences, and it would be silly not to take advantage. So try a little open mindedness, because you freshman clone posses are already silly enough. No one graduates from college wishing they had met more people from Long Island.

So branch out, biddies! Sometimes I’m embarrassed to be seen with R, but overall, we’re compatible. We both really like white wine, Law and Order, food that’s easy to cook, telling secrets, looking at animals, candy, silliness, dancing to our own beat, dancing in cars, dancing in living rooms, dancing in the street and tiny dancing. We also enjoy making lists to take up room and veering really far off track. But beyond all these fundamental tenets of friendship, we just get along. And that’s what we think about bureaucracy.

R: Stay tuned next time for a secret!