Words from the Top

I Need a Title

When I was little I wanted to be a princess, so that I could have the power to command anything I wished. The life of a princess as I imagined it was great: all the ponies and butter pecan ice cream cones I ever wanted were mine, and at any given moment I was sure that my prince was just around the corner. But of course, once I grew older I realized the problems with my carefully detailed fantasy life–the most problematic of these problems being that I live in a country which does not understand, respect or even acknowledge royalty. Then there’s that whole problem of dealing with irritating trifles like diplomatic issues, not to mention the fact that as a princess, I’m likely to be kidnapped to start a war. Being a princess isn’t just wearing a pretty dress and a tiara, it’s a lot of work. Certainly more work than I’m willing to put in just to get my way.

As I matured, I found an easier way to get what I wanted. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes, show a little leg and giggle vacuously. This would put boys at my beck and call. And though this brought me material wealth, companionship and fun nights on the town, it still wasn’t all that I needed. Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, and when polished they may glitter like the heavens, but shiny baubles which would keep other females transfixed for years only occupy me for minutes at a time and do not satisfy my need for power. Not even my shiny dominatrix outfit is shiny enough to satisfy my need for power. And for some strange reason boys freak out if you ask them to collect taxes, or don armor to go on a quest. At least, they freak out of you ask them to do any of that stuff outside of the bedroom. So much for princess fantasies.

Now that I have spent some time at college, I realize the trinkets and eager boys were only a means to an end. I realize that I don’t actually need real power; I just need to pretend that I have power. This is why I’ve decided to become Executive Vice-President of the ASUC. This is my true calling, a huge boost to my self-esteem and my feeling of importance.

But it’s much more than the delusion of power that I’m interested in. The Executive VP wields a gavel while she presides over the senate. Just the sound of that is enough for me. And while the ASUC doesn’t have nearly the budget of a kingdom, it does have much more money than a group of nineteen-year-old college students know what to do with. These are exactly the things that will help me live out my fantasies. Maybe I’ll even wear a tiara to meetings, and replace the gavel with a scepter.

I could get red carpets installed in and around Eshleman, get my ASUC interns to carry me to class in a sedan chair and make everyone address me as “the Honorable Ms. Baran.” This new power could go to my head, but I’m sure I would get on with business quickly and efficiently. My first act will be to declare a moratorium on marriages. Yes, I will get the number one public university in the country to strongly condemn marriages. Ineffectual, symbolic, and utterly without consequence in the real world? Yes, but important issues demand a bold stance, and in this respect I fall right in line with standard ASUC operating procedure. The anti-marriage stance may make me slightly unpopular, but all good leaders are willing to take risks. If I can’t marry into royalty, no one else can marry at all.