I gotta be honest, I’m a little hungover. We had a big rush event for Oozma Kappa last night, and I’m actually starting to really like the brothers. They seem nice enough, almost like they wouldn’t do horrible things to me as a pledge. I don’t really love the taste of beer, it actually makes me want to vomit, but I’ve got to keep up my image for the frat.

Where were we? Oh right, all the performative males on campus! Everywhere I go, I always see them walking around all smug with their iced matcha in hand, tote bags filled with feminist literature, and wired earbuds not even connected to anything. Who do these people think they are? I had to get to the bottom of it before this dangerous trend spread to more students in College Park.

There was no better place to start my investigation than the infamous farmers market. I was only by Tawes already because of a gen-ed — I promise it wasn’t a gender studies class, I don’t believe in all that woke stuff. Lo and behold, the farmers market had a line wrapping all the way to Susquehanna Hall for some artisanal, organic, free-range, non-binary, vegan, vegetarian, ceremonial-grade iced matcha.

Did I wait in that long ass line? Well of course, I’ve got a job to do here. But when it was finally my turn in line, I noticed that they weren’t even using actual matcha: it was just some green food dye and milk! And still, all of these kids were absolutely falling for it. Granted, nobody actually cared how it tasted, it’s all just to be seen drinking it. Not like the food dye was much better than what they serve at the campus cafés. Anyway, I threw out the fake matcha, much to the dismay of my onlookers, and went on to continue my investigation.

I heard some rumors of a thrifted clothes market outside McKeldin, which I knew would be a hot spot for these trend chasers. Rounding the corner of the library, I saw a swarm of performative males shopping for shirts way too small for them, and pants way too big. I at least found an old football jersey there I liked, not noticing the Goodwill receipt from the reseller falling to the ground as I took it off the rack. I venmoed the guy at the stand $40 for the clothes (a little pricey, but I can’t be seen putting it back on the rack) and realized I had nothing to carry it in!

“No worries,” the cashier said with a gleeful expression, “your purchase comes with a complementary tote bag!” Horrified, I grabbed the bag and ran off, tote swinging in the wind. I can’t be seen like this — everyone will think I’m one of those performative males! I ran all the way up the hill towards Stamp, trying to get to my dorm as soon as possible.

In my haste, I didn’t even notice that I was running full-speed into the Testudo×Labubu collab pop-up stand outside of Stamp! Crashing into their display, one of the Testbubus slipped right into my tote bag without me realizing. I heard the cries of students who had been camping out in line for hours to buy them, lambasting me for cutting line to get my hands on one of those demented little creatures.

I was too flustered to think straight as I fled the scene, losing track of which foot was in front of the other as I ran down the hill to the side of Stamp. One slip, and all of a sudden I was tumbling down the hill at full speed. I found myself rolling all the way down to the back entrance of SECU Stadium, ramming full speed into the gates, and bursting onto the field. I took a direct hit to the head from the crash, and all I could feel was my brain rattling around inside of my skull.

As I finally came back to reality, face-first on the rough turf of the stadium, I heard the faint voice of a woman singing to me in the distance. Was this an angel? Was this how my life would come to an end? Rolling down that dumbass hill? Then, I heard what she was singing: “Bet you think you’re so poetic, quoting epics and ancient prose, truth be told, you’re quite pathetic, Mister Eclectic Allan Poe.” Is that — no, it can’t be — the thirteenth track from Grammy-award winning artist Laufey’s new album A Matter of Time featuring background vocals from the critically-acclaimed artist Clairo? Wait, how the hell did I even know that?

Of course I had to stay for the entire concert, for research purposes of course. I guess SEE’s just been getting some really good guests recently. I hope the fact that I’m 6’4” didn’t keep anyone behind me from being able to see the show. The soothing sounds of the concert were making me tired though, so it was finally time to head back after a long day of investigative journalism.

When I finally got back to my dorm, I turned on my Himalayan salt lamp and essential oil diffuser, before turning on my sunset lamp for some diffuse light and finally settling into bed. I turned to my nightstand and picked up Gender Trouble by Judith Butler for some light reading before heading to bed. I really enjoyed her latest book Who’s Afraid of Gender as well as some of her other works exploring Western imperialism like Frames of War, but it’s always nice to reread some of her earlier works. Wait, when the hell did I read all of those books? The calming scent of the essential oils distracted me from such thoughts. As I was drifting off to sleep, the words of Butler filled my mind:

“That gender reality is created through sustained social performances means that the very notions of an essential sex and a true or abiding masculinity or femininity are also constituted as part of the strategy that conceals gender’s performative character and the performative possibilities for proliferating gender configurations outside the restricting frames of masculinist domination and compulsory heterosexuality.”

So true girl.

Image Credits: Jordyn Cabellon