Erin and I had planned our strategy to infiltrate a tour for prospective students: I was her friend from "back home" who attended NYU, and she was a high school student. It seemed foolproof, until I realized how many people I actually know on this campus. Right from the start, despite our clever ruse, we were in danger of discovery. The admissions officer present happened to be Jodi Buyyounouski, the head of the Undergraduate Recruitment Committee, of which I had counted myself a member back in the dark ages otherwise known as my first two years at Columbia. We decided upon a strategy of avoidance and turned to face the tour guides. I thought we were in the clear, so we joined a group and headed out.

Commenting on the small size of our undergraduate community, the tour guide pointed at me and said, "For example, I recognize you from my classes as an English major." Uh oh. Erin was quick to keep her own disguise intact, gushing, "Oh my gosh, she knows you, isn't that so cool?" I, however, was resigned to silence for the rest of the tour, but at least that gave me more of an opportunity to pay attention to the skillfully deceptive spiel Columbia tour guides must memorize.

As we approached the gym, our guide declared, "You can pretty much get on a machine any time ... well, except maybe for peak hours." Except maybe for peak hours?! I suppose that might be accurate if "peak hours" means between 6:30A.M. and 10P.M.! I have rarely experienced a time when I have had less than an hour wait for a machine. So much for enlargement and enhancement.

Later I heard her say that Carman was a nice dorm. Ahem. Right.

As we stood in front of Lewisohn Hall, our guide began to talk about the various programs in the School of General Studies that are supposedly available to us College students. Her main example was the Creative Writing Program. Oh, really? Perhaps it might have been more precise to point out that the University heavily discourages College students from enrolling in most Creative Writing classes. In fact, I know of several people whose deans actually refused them permission to enroll in any writing workshops because they were too "professionally oriented" for Columbia College students.

The discussion in front of Lerner Hall was quite interesting; apparently many tourists come to look at its unusual architecture. I wonder which they like better, the huge cracked glass panel resulting from structural strain, or the horrendous acoustics of an auditorium whose floor actually slopes down as one moves away from the stage? Perhaps it's the way space was so horribly utilized in the building that many student groups still have no offices? Our guide nonetheless emphasized Lerner Hall's utility for meetings and student events, as well as its long hours. Hmm... last time I checked, Lerner was only open until midnight most nights.