When I was little, I had a secret fantasy of attending Claremont McKenna College.
If I had known then as I know now that it’s right by Loserville, I probably would have squashed that idea. But I hadn’t really researched the place. My romantic notions of the place were based solely on the fact that it had a romantic-sounding name, plus that it was one of the five “sister colleges” all nestled together, which I thought was so cute.
Others of these sister colleges are called things like Pitzer and Harvey Mudd. Those were very unromantic names, so I didn’t want to go to them, only Claremont McKenna.
I finally got to visit them. I was able to go on the bus. Imagine my surprise — I think I liked Pitzer College the best, and Scripps College as well (another brittle name that could use a serving of romance). Pitzer and Scripps had orange trees and what looked like crumbling Roman ruins and lush roses everywhere. While Claremont McKenna I didn’t like at all — it was sleek and modern and annoying.
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