An Elitist Horse of a Different Color
Hello, faithful readers. It's been an obscenely long time. I'm sure that you have many questions, such as "Where the hell have you been?" or "Why isn't this blog about the second half of your Mexico trip?" Good for you. Remember, there are no stupid questions. I go to Yale. You know this. I have articulated in previous blogs my extreme and plentiful love for my school, but there are a few things that I feel the need to address in the form of a lengthy diatribe involving bitter sarcasm and thinly veiled examples of my own real life experiences. Oh goody, you're excited. It's no secret that I come from a rural area-the foothillls of the Appalachian Mountains in East Tennessee. It's an area filled with incredible contrasts, from the beautifully furnished cabins atop the hillsides to the sadly dingy single wide trailers, the front yards filled with dirty and broken children's toys, in the lower elevations. I went to school with some big fish