How To Know If You’re Trapped In a Hallmark Movie
While you might think the biggest threat you face when you go home for the holidays is dealing with that one relative who never knows when to shut up, there's actually a darker possibility to be aware of this holiday season: being sucked into a Hallmark movie.
Rachel O’Connor ‘26
Photo courtesy of Hallmark Movies & Mysteries website.
While you might think the biggest threat you face when you go home for the holidays is dealing with that one relative who never knows when to shut up, there's actually a darker possibility to be aware of this holiday season: being sucked into a Hallmark movie. It can be hard to tell the difference between a winter storm blowing in overnight and the start to your very own holiday romcom, so here’s some tips to help you out. Remember to stay vigilant and if your neighbors all start singing and dancing like some flashmob from hell, it's already too late.
You can’t seem to get away from five o’clock shadow guy.
Five o’clock shadow guy has perfect stubble that makes him look just the right amount of rugged, never unkempt. He wears flannels and drives an old pickup truck. He is never from the big city, always from a small town. For work, he does something with his hands that is also praiseworthy. In his spare time he contributes to the community by building birdhouses for homeless birds or helping old ladies put up their Christmas trees. He is always around, always offering a helping hand, and always reminding you with just his mere presence that your current boyfriend is a selfish scumbag who is too ambitious and doesn’t support your dreams.
Occasionally, you might encounter “decoy five o’clock shadow guy.” For the uninitiated, he might seem like five o’clock shadow guy for about five minutes because he’s handsome and nice on the surface. But cracks in his character quickly emerge. First, he’s almost always clean shaven. He (gasp) has a typical professional job, probably something in finance where he forecloses on little old ladies’ houses. There’ll be hints of selfishness, or worse, big city values. He’s here to be the foil. He might tie the girl to a railroad track, but he’s never gonna get her.
You are from the big city and have an inescapable longing for the simple life.
Whether you grew up in a small town and escaped to the city, or all you’ve ever known is city life, you are currently what can be described as a “girlboss.” You have a successful career that you insist fulfills you. You probably work in finance, entertainment, or advertising, because every single person the screenwriters know has one of those jobs. But deep down, all you really want is for a handsome lumberjack to show you the error of city living so you can abandon your financially stable career and have a family, because for some unexplained but universally accepted reason you can’t have both.
You are forced to spend the holiday season in a small town.
Whether you grew up there and are visiting family or your usually reliable car somehow breaks down as soon as you cross the town border, you are stuck there for Christmas. The town is always covered in snow and decorated so well it rivals Whoville. There are no chain stores or apartment complexes. Everybody lives in log cabins or cottages, mostly heated by wood-fired stoves. Nobody watches television unless it is to watch Frosty the Snowman or other Christmas classics. The place to be in town is Main Street, a street filled with quaint boutiques and other shops, none of which employ more than three people.
The townsfolk actually care who the mayor and the sheriff are, and treat them with respect instead of as the goobers they are. The “everyone knows everyone” mentality is exaggerated to the extreme. They all either remember every one of your embarrassing moments from high school or you feel as though you have “out-of-towner” stamped across your forehead. Not only does everyone know everybody, but they also all know five o’clock shadow guy and each has a personal heartwarming story about how he saved their beloved dog from drowning in a frozen river or single-handedly saved them from an avalanche. But somehow, none of them have actually tried to date him.
You are Helen-of-Troy gorgeous and yet somehow single.
If you aren’t dating a capitalist drone who can’t seem to put his phone on silent or spend more than five minutes with you before rushing off for a call with the CEO of his company, you are inexplicably single, despite looking like Bella Hadid and Timothée Chalamet’s test tube baby. Not only could you find a way to look good in a burlap sack, but you are funny, endearing, and always say the right thing. And not the slightest bit neurotic. The fact that you are unattached seems perfectly normal to everyone in this quaint town but is a baffling mystery to any viewer.
Your town keeps throwing corny festivals.
Your small town throws almost daily over-the-top Gilmore Girls-style Christmas festivals. The whole town always attends, including the children who are never sarcastic and always enthusiastic to participate. The festivals range from lighting trees that look like they have been cut down from an old-growth forest to elaborate snowman building contests where everyone suddenly becomes the Michelangelo of snowmen.
Your family business is failing.
When you return to your small town for the holidays you learn that, against all odds, your family’s 100-year-old mercantile business, which basically sells barrels of oats to the townsfolk, is somehow failing. Your parents are old and you either have no siblings or they are completely unsuitable to take over the family business. You are the only one that can take on that burden and save the family business from being bought by Amazon and turned into a parking lot at the expense of your career and the life you have built for yourself in the city.
All the town elders are wise.
All the elderly people in your town are known to be incredibly wise. Nobody rolls their eyes at them or mocks them. They are always listened to and treated with respect. Nobody derisively says, “okay, Grandpa” to them. The old folks are always willing to listen to your problems for hours at a time and reframe the dilemma that has been eating at you for the last hour into an easily solvable problem that is probably resolved by listening to your heart or embracing the spirit of Christmas. By the time that last commercial break is over, you’ll know exactly what to do. When the town’s oldies aren’t acting as your unpaid therapist, they are hanging Christmas ornaments, adding logs to the fireplace in their cozy cabins, or putting tea on the fire. They never do anything else. They are almost never sick or showing any signs of old age besides vaguely commenting on how the cold affects their “old bones.” The only time their age is ever an issue is when they are insisting that you participate in some holiday activity because their arthritis is acting up or they are simply too old to do it on their own anymore.
You react to any misunderstanding by planning to skip town and join a nunnery.
Inevitably, you will overhear a conversation out of context that makes you believe wholeheartedly that five o’clock shadow guy, who has spent the whole movie fixing your fences and shoveling your driveway, is in love with someone else. The someone else in question is either a catty mean girl or someone who is so sweet and genuine that you are convinced they are an angel sent from heaven who you can never compete with. Instead of using your critical thinking skills or, I don’t know, asking, five o’clock shadow guy, your reaction is to throw all your stuff in your car and head for the nearest nunnery. But don’t worry! Before you manage to leave town, five o’clock shadow guy will find you and clear up the misunderstanding before kissing you while it snows atmospherically behind you.
Infeasible Business.
There is a business in town that is so financially infeasible that you have no idea how it stays open. It might be your business or might be your friend’s business where you hang out. It has been open for hundreds of years and is the crown jewel of the town. The business sells Christmas decorations year round or gourmet candy canes, or strange hot chocolate flavors that literally nobody asked for. The business is thriving. It will outlive you. It will probably outlive your children. You’re pretty sure it's immortal. But in real life, its annual revenue would be about five bucks.
You have one friend in town.
Your singular friend is passably cute, but nowhere near your league. After all, there can’t be any mistake about who will end up with five o’clock shadow guy. She might wear a baseball cap, with no logo whatsoever, to make her look less feminine. She is more social than you, however, and will drag you to some town event where you will meet five o’clock shadow guy or see him again. She knows everything about everybody. When you ask her about five o’clock shadow guy, she somehow knows his entire life story down to the middle name of his sister-in-law’s cousin and his social security number. When the big misunderstanding happens, she will play some role in resolving it by either telling you that five o’clock shadow guy is obviously in love with you or by telling him where to find you. She is an expert in shovel talk.
The children in town are “old souls” and eerily wise for their age.
Five o’clock shadow guy might have a kid, in which case he is widowed and not divorced. His child is smart to the point that you have to look twice to make sure it’s not Yoda playing the role of a kid. His child is shockingly well-adjusted for someone who was raised by an interpreter for sled dogs and woodpeckers. The child will play an essential role in getting you and five o’clock shadow guy together. If five o’clock shadow guy does not have a child, any kid you do encounter is similarly wise.
There are no teenagers.
You have no idea where they went or if they have ever been there, but there are none now. Everyone is either 8-12, 25-35, or 60+.
The magic of Christmas (and five o’clock shadow guy) saves the day.
Somehow, when all seems lost, the magic of Christmas manages to save the day. This can be literal magic like Santa and his elves interceding on your behalf like the Virgin Mary herself. Or it can mean the town coming together like the Whos at the end of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas to stand around a tree holding hands and singing Christmas carols. Five o’clock shadow guy rallied them, something that makes any doubts you had about him and his unusual career path disappear instantly. Your family business is saved, though no one quite understands how.
The ridiculously improbable misunderstanding an hour-and-a-half into the movie now resolved, you end up with five o’clock shadow guy. Though he lives in an unheated shed and drives a 1972 pickup truck, it turns out that he’s worth $750 million, or is the kidney donor you need to live, or saves your grandmother who fell down a well, or in some other way solves all of the problems you have ever had in your life.
Exceptions.
On the rare occasion that you are the one from the small town, then an attractive but arrogant big-shot from the big city will show up to buy a beloved business and turn it into a parking lot or a factory for killing puppies. The beloved business is probably your family business and also financially infeasible. Your reaction is to bake him cookies because you believe this will somehow sway him to sabotage his business deal so your color-me-mine-style gingerbread business can stay afloat. Your plan works and he quits his job because he has fallen in love with you and the beauty of small towns. And you adopt all of the puppies.
Rejected Instagram Ad For Sarah Lawrence Giving Day
o prepare for this glorious day, let’s hear from those who will benefit from your donations: real Sarah Lawrence students with real Sarah Lawrence experiences.
by Hrannar Björnsson
Sarah Lawrence’s annual Giving Day is coming up, and the administration is so excited to accept all of your donations to the most expensive/poorest college in the world! To prepare for this glorious day, let’s hear from those who will benefit from your donations: real Sarah Lawrence students with real Sarah Lawrence experiences.
Trason Scalpel ‘21
“I love that students can develop their own unique conference projects at Sarah Lawrence. Sure, some are overly ambitious, but if you listen to students talk about their conference projects at length, you’ll find that they’re also poorly researched and uninteresting.”
Tarot Card ‘23
“The student art exhibits here are so special. People will get together in Heimbold to celebrate each other’s work, similar to how you celebrate a group photo by focusing on yourself in the picture and ignoring everyone else, judging the quality of the outcome entirely based on your own face.”
Meet N. Greet ‘21
“One time the president of Sarah Lawrence came to my dorm room and talked to me about my academic journey at SLC all day. And then when I told her I had some work to do, she wouldn’t leave. Instead, she chugged four hard seltzers, ate all my Cheez-Its, and then threw up on my roommate. We’re such a tight-knit community.”
Warbara Balters ‘21
“Before coming here, I was like: I’m going to act because I’m the next Carrie Fisher. But now, with some guidance from the professors here, I’ve learned to come to terms with my limitations as a performer and, consequently, have lowered my expectations in life to almost nothing. I really thought I wanted to be a famous actress, but now I’ve realized my dreams are nothing but naïve fantasies. It’s been a really fun experience.”
Leverett Napkin ‘22
“I’ve always known that dancing was my calling in life. But at Sarah Lawrence, I’m discovering things that I’m sort of passionate about, like storyboarding and projection design. And after I stopped dancing to focus on these more practical passions, I just could be happier, and I have regrets.”
Twenty Four ‘24
“Last year, we received a lot of donations, but one special gift stood out from the rest. So now, with immense excitement, it’s time to announce the construction of the 2025 Rahm Emanuel Campus Octagon! We’ll finally have the opportunity to explore our artistic and over-the-top personalities in a much-needed, communal fighting stadium.”
Quembus Menstrualcycle ‘25
“But our glorious, full-size UFC cage with a seating capacity of 25,000 and a state of the art press box, which will replace the Health & Wellness Center, presents us with a problem: how do we thank SLC alum and former Chicago mayor, Rahm Emanuel ‘81, for his generous donation?”
Squelf Theeatur ‘23
“This is no simple task because if there’s one thing we hold dear here at Sarah Lawrence, it’s that, with hard work, anything can become a venue to showcase our ridiculously theatrical way of being. And showing simple gratitude to a person that will never see this Instagram ad is no exception.”
SCRONIE #000703373 ‘22
“Sarah Lawrence students know that nothing is simple. Everything is complicated for some reason.”
Hrannar Björnsson ‘21
“At this point, we, the Sarah Lawrence students who won’t benefit from your donation because we’ll have already graduated, have but one recourse: thank you, Rahm.”
*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.
50 Things to do during Quarantine
Whether you are on campus, in an apartment with friends, or stuck back in your parents house, The Phoenix offers a list of 50 entertaining activities to try while in isolation or quarantine.
Zoe Stanton-Savitz ’23
Photo by Zoe Stanton-Savitz “An evil puppet I made named Bielzebuddy”
The world has shut down, leaving many students grappling with intense boredom and struggling to maintain their sanity. Every day seems to blend together into a stream of mundane Zoom calls and perpetual procrastination –– anything but homework. Never fear, though. Whether you are on campus, in an apartment with friends, or stuck back in your parents house, The Phoenix offers a list of 50 entertaining activities to try while in isolation or quarantine.
The Irishman, screenshot courtesy of Netflix
Photo by Zoe Stanton-Savitz
Count your ceiling tiles. (Don’t have ceiling tiles? Try your bathroom tiles. Or hallway. Or kitchen.)
Separate a family-sized bag of Skittles or MnMs by color.
Drop an anvil on your foot.
Learn how to do an Irish river dance.
Drink some Fireball.
Text all your exes. If you run out of exes, schools you were accepted to but ended up not attending count too.
Watch The Irishman.
Look at pictures of baby quokkas.
Watch every Tom Hanks movie in alphabetical order.
Bang your head against a wall.
Memorize the periodic table.
Shave your eyebrows off.
Direct Message celebrities your innermost thoughts and deepest darkest secrets.
Memorize the entirety of cinematic classic The Bee Movie.
Punch a Karen in the face (not your mom though).
Cry.
Organize a box of 64 Crayola crayons by preference. (Do you prefer green-blue or blue-green?)
Have a séance. Summon some spirits.
Make the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.
Find a tiny tree frog and make them your friend.
Make tiny outfits for your tiny tree frog friend.
Marie Kondo your wardrobe.
Read War and Peace.
Watch every episode of The Simpsons.
Stare into middle distance.
Take a bath with socks on.
Listen to Murder Most Foul, Bob Dylan’s 17 minute song.
Glue your hands together with super glue.
Tape your feet together with duct tape.
Plan an elaborate heist.
Sell feet pics.
Play Just Dance.
Watch Vine compilations and mourn the app’s death.
Learn Klingon.
Overthrow the government.
Invent a new color.
Switch bodies with your mother on a Friday and see things from her perspective.
Find Bigfoot.
Learn how to drive a stick shift.
Eat quinoa and wonder what all the fuss is about.
Chug a gallon of milk
Hug a tree.
Gaze wistfully out of a window.
Wait in line at the DMV.
Learn the difference between affect and effect.
Watch the entirety of a three-hour ambience Youtube video (Example here).
Shake fist at God.
Make a puppet.
Have an ideological debate with Siri.
Read The Phoenix!
Introducing Sarah Lawrence’s First Frat House: Alpha Sigma Barb
Photo Credit: Wavebreakmedia/Shutterstock, Barbara Walters
Barbara Walters has been generously funding Sarah Lawrence’s much-needed building updates for years, first with the Barbara Walters Gallery, and then with the Barbara Walters Campus Center. Sarah Lawrence is now closer than ever to looking like a real college. We have art and big buildings with tall ceilings; heck, we’re practically a state school! But it’s clear we’re not done yet. There has been a LOT of unrest regarding the lack of housing on campus.
Don’t worry, Barbara’s on it. She looked around and asked herself “what do most colleges have that Sarah Lawrence doesn’t? Housing, duh, but we’re missing a special kind of housing.” So, coming to you this spring: Sarah Lawrence’s first fraternity, Alpha Sigma Barb!
Alpha Sigma Barb will have all the features of a regular college frat house, but with that special Sarah Lawrence flair. Get ready for the most expensive boat shoes from Urban Outfitters, polo shirts with ironically popped collars, and beer kegs filled with cocaine!
Remember chubbies? The shorts that frat guys at those other schools have? Well, don’t worry, SLC’s Alpha Sigma Barb will have an alternative –– just being naked all the time! Take advantage of SLC’s clothing-optional campus in style.
Of course, there’s gonna be some serious Sarah Lawrence ragers at Alpha Sigma Barb. That’s right, it’s just people getting drunk and writing sad poetry. Come and cry to Mitski together! Be sure to make it before the clock strikes 11:30, though; that’s when everyone goes to sleep.
I know what you’re thinking: what about hazing? Barb’s got you covered! Alpha Sigma Barb pledges have to wear a beanie so tight that they can’t take it off! But wait! There’s more! New recruits are forced to listen to My Bloody Valentine and Godspeed You! Black Emperor until they like it! Pretty sick stuff, huh?
All your favorite Sarah Lawrence students will be pledging to Alpha Sigma Barb: the guy who skateboards in front of your open window at 2 am on a Tuesday, the girl who calls herself a filmmaker even though she’s never even made a movie, and, of course, Pub Guy! Yeah, that’s right, Pub Guy is back and he’s just gonna be yelling numbers out of the Alpha Sigma Barb window!
Sure, the Barbara Walters Campus Center may have Barbara’s Emmys, but we are incredibly excited to announce that Barbara has promised to make the Alpha Sigma Barb lawn her eternal resting place! When the time comes, head on down to Alpha Sigma Barb, crack open an ice-cold bottle of cocaine, and kick back with Barbara Walters’ dead body!
Alpha Sigma Barb: It’s Like The Hyatt, But Worse!
Ann Nelson, ‘21
*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.
5 Signs That You're Not a Successful Sarah Lawrence Student
Image Credit: Madison Eppler
1. You have goals.
Having goals means that you haven’t reached those goals. This is a clear sign you’re not a successful Sarah Lawrence student. Successful people at this college cannot find time in their day to set goals for themselves, because when they do, they reach them just about instantly. This vicious cycle of repeated goal-setting and-reaching is known as the Successcycle. Once you’re in this cycle, you never get to leave it, and neither do your kids, or your kids’ kids, or even your kids’ kids’ kids.
2. You’re competitive.
Feeling competitive means that there is someone at Sarah Lawrence with whom you are competing. Someone that has reached a similar level of success as you, whom you see as a threat. If you have ever felt competitive at any point during your academic career, know that you’re not a successful student. All competition takes place in the Colosseum of Mediocrity, and you are nothing but a gladiator of disappointment.
3. You’re 19.
If you’re only 18 years old, you have nothing to worry about. You’re probably enjoying your first year living in a triple, and looking forward to all the valuable experiences you’re going to have during this formative four-year period. If you’re 19, though, chances are that you’ve already fallen behind. I’m sorry, but there’s probably someone identical to you in every way that’s already taken your seat on the Success Express to Moneytown. That place shuts its borders as soon as the train pulls into Career Junction, and everyone knows Moneytown’s immigration system is a fucking nightmare. But there’s still hope. You’re still not 20.
4. You’re 20.
This is really bad. I mean, what were you thinking? Why haven’t you done anything yet? You’re a junior now and you’ve completely lost your chance at success. At this point, you should solely focus on damage control. And be thankful you’re not one of those 21-year-olds. They’re out there roaming the streets with zero accolades to their name, asking strangers for loose change to buy an ounce of the latest drug to vape out of their dirty e-cigs. I suggest you spend at least fifteen minutes a day praying for the 21-year-olds of this college. After all, you still have the privilege of not being 21.
5. You’re 21.
Your life is over. I don’t know how else to say this. It’s all over. Done. You might as well be a pile of garbage now because that’s how everyone at this college sees you. Remember that person from your First Year Studies with the exact same career ambitions as you? They’re famous for doing that thing now. You can’t walk anywhere on campus or look at your phone without seeing an advertisement for that person doing the thing you so badly wanted to be your thing. And they’re so attractive, and definitely not ugly like you. Remember that person that took your seat on the Success Express? Turns out their celebrity dad is in the Successcycle, and they didn’t actually need that seat at all. They just took it because they were bored and wanted to “see if there was anything cool going on in town.” There was. There always is. This is Moneytown we’re talking about.
Hrannar Bjornsson, ‘21
*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.
Getting to Know the Sarah Lawrence Skunks
Photo Credit: Bryan Padron via Unsplash
Late at night, they skulk through Slonim Woods with a distinctive stench wafting from their streaked, grungy hair. During the day, they are very antisocial and never show up to class. No, it’s not you, it’s the SLC skunks.
We invest in many mascots here at Sarah Lawrence College, from the old reliable black squirrels and gryphons of yore to the newer rat, bat, and slug cults, but no one is so approachable as the down-to-earth skunk family we accept as our own. Junior Allison Dennis calls them her favorite thing about campus.
Skunks have been prowling through Sarah Lawrence's history for over half a century. The first recorded relationship between students and skunks is documented on November 21, 1951 when a student wrote to the New York Herald Tribune asking where they could purchase a pet baby skunk. The education editor of the Tribune, Fred M. Hechinger, said that he hoped the school would include skunk kennels so the individualism of the students wouldn’t be “cramped by the absence of proper skunk facilities.” The only potential follow up to this incident is a brief sentence in a Phoenix article from May 7, 1952: “Mondays and Thursdays are the best days for mail and packages… only once was a pet skunk sent to the College.”
After this incident, skunks disappear from our archive record, only to resurface in 2011 when it is mentioned that skunks often run into students on their way home. Gail Hoffmann was hired to trap skunks and other animals for the school at that time and referenced a particularly “angry” skunk who had a deep interest in the school’s crew equipment.
Now students appear to be connecting with the campus skunks more than ever. George Scott ‘21 says of the skunks, “Sarah Lawrence kids are smelly so they fit right in.” He also suggested that, in the absence of a black squirrel hangout, we should consider a skunk venue instead.
Students living in Slonim Woods and Andrews Court are the most likely to have run-ins with the campus skunks, who seem to be cohabitating with the ever-overturning student body in harmony. A resident of Slonim Woods, who wishes to remain anonymous, fed a skunk an apple cider donut as a celebration of fall this week when he noticed the skunk eating trash. The student, a junior, said he would describe the skunk’s personality as “Skittish. A little bit kind of aloof you know? Not someone who I would particularly make an effort to become close with, but perhaps treat it like a person with respect and love and kindness.”
Sarah Gartner ‘21 observes the skunks often at her house in Slonim Woods where they enjoy her trash. She knows three of them well and calls them My Girl, My Guy, and Fatty Boi, who is apparently a large skunk. “I was watching him cross the street and he was like waddling. And then he is so fat that he had to push himself up on the curb.” Gartner recalls. “Then he fell on his back and he could not get on the sidewalk, which is pretty tight, so I named him Fatty Boi.”
Unfortunately, our skunks have experienced tragedy this semester. When news reached the student body that one of the skunks had died recently, sophomore Julian Hanes says the news was terrible. Hanes had recently attempted to befriend a skunk on the hot rock by making animal sounds back at it to try to help it feel it was understood. “I wanted to make friends with it which provoked my initial animal sounds,” he said. His friend, junior Corinne Alexander says that for her, the presence of skunks on campus is now an integral part of Sarah Lawrence culture and the death of the skunk was very sad.
In typical Sarah Lawrence fashion, there have also been speculations as to the skunk(s’) astrological chart: their’ often standoffish attitude has led students to suspect them of being Aquariuses. Anonymous says, “It adds an odor but I’m not sure beyond that I think we’re yet to see the positive or other contributions of this aforementioned skunk.”
Gartner describes them as Heimbros. “I feel like they all like to keep to themselves like they wouldn’t really be social with everybody so like a few people and kind of just like Sarah Lawrence everybody else.
But, despite their too-cool-for-school demeanor, they love us at heart. Micaela Eckett ‘21 recalls how her dog last year would attempt to play with the skunks and they would sulk rather than spray him away. Get to know your claw-footed neighbors, their personalities are more than just black and white.
Camryn Sanchez, ‘21
Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the humor and satire section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.