Mysterious Miss Mystifies Many

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Carly Minuk shares a beer with Bora Laskin. Strangely enough, his head is not a bar.
Carly Minuk shares a beer with Bora Laskin. Strangely enough, his head is not a bar.
Carly Minuk shares a beer with Bora Laskin. Strangely enough, his head is not a bar.

Hi, it’s me…Carly. I’m a leper transfer student. If you stop reading this article now, you probably think you’re smarter than me.

If you continue reading, though, you probably just pity me for failing to get into U of T the first time. Sheesh, you really are a sicko.

Anyway, I guess I will tell you a bit about what it’s like to be a transfer student at U of T. First let’s just get something straight: you should really TELL people that “Bora’s Head” is not a bar. It really really sounds like the name of a bar, and when a transfer student (i.e. me) is asked to meet at this location, she (I mean me) will be anxiously googling and falling up short.

And asking me to meet you in the “dining room” is no better. I literally thought that sketchy dark wing of the school was off limits until I signed up for yoga in the staff lounge (which is excellent, I might add). You also might have seen me sneaking into that weird little microwave room near that back staircase…I thought that was off limits too until a first-year made fun of me for saying so. [I felt pretty bad-ass using those illicit microwaves; turns out I’m just totally clueless].

Anyway, it was a great day when a third-year showed me that the secret staircase leads to that room with the couches! [I didn’t know it was called the Rowell Room until about a month ago…you should really just call it Couch Room, it makes so much more sense]. Woe is me, the ill-informed transfer student. Don’t we deserve a tour like all the other smart kids? You know what, there probably was a tour; I think we had to meet at Bora’s Head.

In all seriousness, transferring to the best law school in Canada really has its perks. When I befriend one of you folks, I do my best to fit in and act like all the other law schools are trash and express how blessed I am to have transferred (which I am, by the way).

On the other hand, when I meet people from other law schools or talk to my old friends from the University of Ottawa Law, I go on making fun of U of T students, telling them what it’s like on the “inside.” I’m like Cady Heron from Mean Girls. I pretend to be friends with you but really I’m talking sh*t about you behind your back and plotting to get you hit by a bus. Or maybe I really have become one of you. I guess that depends on your interpretation of Mean Girls. I’m kidding (right?).

Ok, but seriously, I’m totally kidding. I wouldn’t be writing for Ultra Vires if I didn’t love it here, trust me. I actually spend most of my time dispelling myths about U of T students (and enjoying all the free lunches…Ottawa definitely did not have this…a perk of paying double the tuition, I guess).

For some reason, everyone thinks you (we?) are all pretentious and competitive keeners. It’s really not true. I mean, some of you (us?) are, but definitely no more than any other law school. The people I’ve met here are down-to-earth and cool (so if you’re reading this, and I’ve met you, I think you’re down-to-earth and cool, unless you’re one of the inevitable keeners I was referring to, but no, that couldn’t be you).

I’ve made lifelong friends, enjoyed some wild pub nights, and finally figured out what it means to check “Headnotes.” So if you see me in the halls (the tall lanky sort-of-redhead), try not to whisper, “who the eff is that girl?” quite too loudly. I’m a transfer student…say hello!

P.S. I realized I’ve been saying “transfer student” this whole time like I’ve come from some other planet. I’m from Toronto and did my undergrad at McGill.

P.P.S. Say hi to other transfer students too, they’re cool/nice/smart.

P.P.P.S. I’ve heard rumours that some of you “hate on” transfer students. If I find out who you are, I will totally sell you foot lotion for your face.

 

 

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