Hamilton College Admission Journals: Victoria O'Neill

I spent last night in the Village…

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 01:19:08 GMT

I love guests, entertaining, and being selfish, so it’s only natural that I would con my boyfriend, Frank, into visiting me even though I only have two weeks of school left. Waiting is just not my thing. After several meals on campus, I decided to show him all that off-campus dining has to offer. When thinking about the restaurants I’ve been to and which were worth trying again, I realized that the only places my friends and I eat at are chains (Applebees, Outback, Friendly’s, Uno’s, Ruby Tuesday’s, Panera…McDonald’s Drive-Thru at midnight). Wanting to try something new, I opted for the popular Nola’s, conveniently located down the hill in Clinton.

Nola’s is nestled between the charming storefronts on West Park Row, facing the town’s grassy quad complete with gazebo, fountain and statues. Kirkland Art Center, a steepled building resembling a church, is located across the park on East Park Row, creating a lovely backdrop. The whole scene makes me nostalgic for a childhood I can’t experience (think Christina Ricci in "Now and Then"). Anyway, when we arrived at 6:00 all the tables except for one were reserved, and the waiter assured me that they would be filled to capacity shortly. I was relieved since the only open table was basically on top of another group, and that can just be awkward. After ordering the Saturday appetizer special of assorted sushi rolls and sashimi (unagi, tuna, and salmon), I was able to take in the atmosphere. The room was long, with a trendy bar in the back corner, the walls were brick and displayed assorted gradient oil paintings, and modern, edgy chandeliers provided warm lighting. In addition, the guys sitting next to us sported black glasses, bed-head hair, and perfectly pilled tight fitting sweaters and mused on Kurt Vonnegut. They just had to be NYU boys. Of course, then that would totally explain the atmosphere! I now understood why upon sitting down I envisioned a row of brick tenement buildings instead of the village green. We had stumbled onto a portal to the Village! How clever that they would hide it in Clinton…

But anyway, more about the food. I ordered the “Barramundi,” sea bass with shitake mushrooms in a lemon butter sauce, and opted for the garden salad with ginger dressing. Frank got the “Chicken Nola,” boneless chicken breast wrapped in Prosciutto in a Marsala sauce with the chicken and asparagus soup. I’m not much of a soup person, but after trying some, I eagerly finished the rest. It had a familiar, home made taste (which was odd…how would I know, since I don’t eat soup?), but I savored the pearl onions, asparagus spears and shredded chicken. The sea bass was equally good. The fish flaked perfectly and was complemented by the mushrooms and sauce. I would have preferred a rice pilaf, but the mashed potatoes were too good to complain about. As we were finishing the last bites, the musician who had been setting up the whole evening finally began to play. So I rationally decided to get dessert in order support his creative flow (it would be rude to get up and leave just as he began to play). We split the lava cake: a delicious heated concoction of chocolate mousse, chocolate cake, and drizzled chocolate sauce. Mmmm. Dinner was so good that even the rain didn’t faze me. I had both my urban fix, my wellies and my trench to protect me.

Emergency Family Visit!

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 03:30:27 GMT

    Sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a whole week, but I had a horrible virus that left me quarantined in my room. I lost my voice, was tired the whole time, had constant headaches, my workload was building up, and the dreary weather didn’t do much to cheer me up either. So by last Friday night, I had been sick for over a week, and I complained to any friend/family member who would listen. Then my dad had the spontaneous, yet awesome, idea to take a trip up to the hill. If you haven’t inferred from my previous posts that I am an extremely family/home person, I’ll tell you right now: I AM. During my tours, I can’t stress enough that when choosing a school you really need to know your comfort zone. Even though I like to think that Hamilton is far enough away from home that I can experience new things and other “coming of age” kind of stuff, I really appreciate the opportunity to go home or have my family visit quite easily. And I’ve never needed an emergency family visit like I needed this one. So that Saturday morning, my dad, stepmother, and dog were on campus. Unfortunately, because it was such short notice, they were unable to find dog-friendly lodging nearby. However, they were able to find some in Syracuse, and I was excited to spend some time away from my room, which had turned into a sort of sick-ward with my cold medications spilling all over my desk, dresser, windowsill…and floor. Syracuse is only 45 minutes away, and my friends and I sometimes schedule trips to the Carousel Mall. I like the portions of Syracuse that I have been in, and it’s a good city to be near.
    After dropping off Hudson, the Australian Shepherd, my dad and stepmother, Andrea, took me to the famous Dinosaur Barbeque, “a genuine honky tonk rib joint.” The place was already mobbed by 6:00, but I’m told that’s “part of the experience.” We fortunately were able to secure the last three stools at the bar and ordered the appetizer sampler, which consisted of fried catfish strips, fried green tomatoes with shrimp and cheese, buffalo/bbq wings and deviled eggs. I have a “thing” against eggs, but everything else was heavenly. I had never had a fried green tomato before, and they were so crunchy and flavorful that I didn’t believe they were actual tomatoes. The catfish strips were equally good, but don’t dip them in the marinara sauce that they give you. No, you have to use the ranch sauce that’s meant for the tomatoes in order to really experience the catfish for what it's worth. Don’t ask for my reasoning. Just do it. After the hour and a half wait was up, we were ushered into another seating room, and the food came out within minutes of ordering. They have a very busy take-out service, and the food must be mass-produced. I decided to get the combo meal with pulled pork, ¼ rack of ribs, macaroni and cheese, French fries (they’re fried in canola oil, so they’re trans fat free!), and a generous chunk of cornbread. It tasted just like summer. Signs stating, “If you leave here hungry it’s your fault!” rang true, as I unfortunately hit my limit while tearing into my third rib when a mix of rib juice and their famous barbeque sauce squirted into the back of my throat. I just couldn’t keep going after that. The good part was that I was able to bring the leftovers home. I tried reheating them over the next few days in attempts to eat the memories, but, alas, ribs just don’t taste the same in the microwave. Go figure.
    Then my dad decided to take me on a tour of downtown Syracuse (very pretty old buildings), and, afterwards, I collapsed on the hotel bed and fell into a deep food-induced coma. I was in good spirits the next day and found myself back on the Hill by noon. During the next week my cold cleared up, the sun came out to completely melt the million inches of snow that was dumped here on Accepted Students Day, my orgo test was over, and by the end of the week I was in shorts. The weather has been so nice lately that people have been bringing sofas and chairs out onto the quads to listen to music and watch others place frisbee and catch. How college. But I think the winter is officially over, and I have no complaints. So long story short: never underestimate the emotional and physical healing powers of an emergency family visit.

So what did you do during spring break?

Thu, 05 Apr 2007 02:55:15 GMT

    Though I didn’t spend my spring break anywhere remotely tropical, it was much needed, and I enjoyed the little bits of excitement interspersed between my regimented schedule of loafing, eating and sleeping. I spent my first week on the other side of the country visiting my boyfriend, Frank, at Stanford (in California, not Connecticut). I’ve been there a few times before, and it’s never occurred to me that it’s an actual school…where people do work. I have a terrible case of self-centered tunnel vision, so if I’m on vacation isn’t everyone else? I love visiting Stanford because the campus is huge and resembles a mini-city (they have their own outdoor mall…on campus…Their. Own. Mall.), so I didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. Also, because Frank happened to “miss” some of his classes, I wasn’t demoted to the position of housecat whose sole purpose was to guard the room while he was away. One day we went into San Francisco, rode the trolleys, went to Golden Gate Park, and wandered around Pacific Heights. I know…I’m such a tourist. But apparently not a seasoned one. Even though we were really hungry while browsing through the Japanese Tea Garden (the oldest public Japanese garden in America), we decided to travel deeper into the park to find an alternate exit instead of retracing our steps and eating at the cute restaurants on Haight Street. Anyway, to summarize as best I can, hunger made us delirious as we frantically attempted to find our way out of the park only to become lost in a seemingly endless residential neighborhood. So we hopped onto the nearest bus (and no, I didn’t know where it would let us off) and stayed on it for just about forever. No joke. When we finally got off, we were where we had originally started on the complete opposite end of the city. After we got food (California Pizza Kitchen…I know, I was upset, too, but I was way too hungry to care), I decided that Pacific Heights (which was back on the other side) would have views too good to pass up, and we took yet another bus all the way back. It was worth it though. I felt accomplished after scaling hills so steep that I was afraid that I’d plummet to my death if I didn’t grab onto every single car, tree, traffic sign, and passing jogger. The photos I took of the bridge, the bay, and the cute little Victorians were postcard worthy. And we even found the house where Mrs. Doubtfire was filmed. We were very proud of ourselves.
    But all good things must come to an unfortunate end, and I was home by 7 AM on St. Patrick’s Day, which wasn’t an accident, because New York is the place to spend the holiday. I met up with some friends from high school to see the parade. The people-watching alone was fun. A baby wearing a green afro inspired one of my friends to spray paint her hair green right there on the street. And St. Patrick himself made an appearance as he wandered through the crowd taking photos with everyone. The parade was good too, but it’s always the same format: uniformed high school bands that make me jealous of their musical abilities, the groups of kilted bagpipers, and the thousands of NYFD and NYPD silently strolling down 5th Ave. To make things more exciting during the musical lapses, we had the brilliant idea to start screaming clichéd Irish names into the massive amounts of firemen and policemen passing by. “Mike Sheridan” and “Tommy McNally” elicited some responses and waves. Then we went to Jekyll and Hyde for lunch, a lovely themed restaurant whose target audience was perhaps a little younger than us, but I’m not giving up my childhood that easily. It’s a really quirky place with actors that dress up like dusty butlers and other weird characters with fake British accents. They come up to your table and start bizarre conversations and perform morbid, yet tasteful, skits. Seriously, it’s really fun the first time you go. Maybe not so much after the 4th. But the Margarita Chicken Quesadillas are devilishly good.
    All my friends left that Sunday, so I spent the second week of break on my couch. I’m not ashamed to say that I rarely left it. My little cousin got me into this online phenomenon called “Webkinz.” Basically, it’s like the Sims for children under 12, but I just can’t seem to have enough of it. I don’t know why. But both my mother and my sister are obsessed with it as well. I’m sure my addiction will come to the point where my friends and loved ones will have to perform an intervention to get me to leave my room, but as of now I will be satisfied with the knowledge that I have at least another month to go before my condition gets that bad. So that's basically the "gist" of my break. Aren't you lucky that you didn't ask me in person?

Chinese New Year!

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 03:23:17 GMT

Chinese New Year was the main reason I went home this weekend. It was also a nice midpoint between my winter break and spring break. Bonus points! Once I left home, I realized how much I actually liked (or thought I liked) participating in family activities. So this weekend I attempted to relive my childhood as best I could. I spent my Friday night with my grandmother, helping her make dumplings. I rolled and pressed the dough and she stuffed them. It was quite the assembly line. I don’t even really like eating them, but making them was fun and I used to love flattening the dough with her mechanical press when I was a kid. On Saturday, my family came up to the house for lunch (of course, I bragged about my pressing abilities). Then we went to Chinatown for dinner. The food probably was my least favorite thing about Chinese New Year. It differs from take-out…by a lot. So, to answer your question - yes, I do eat General Tso’s Chicken. Everyone does. This year, I vowed to try a little bit of everything. It was a banquet style dinner, and eight dishes rolled out in order for my hungry family. I tried some of it, but now I remember why I used to fill up on food before we left the house.
Sunday, however, was just as I remembered it. After having some dim-sum, we went out into the streets to find the lion heads. Though there were no fireworks this time, it was still very loud. Pressurized cardboard tubes filled with confetti were fired all along Mott St. The sky seemed to be blotted out by the sparkly pieces of foil and paper. Some of the tubes contained red scrolls with various good luck phrases embossed in gold attached to red parachutes. People went crazy for those, like frantic bridesmaids jumping up to catch the bouquet. Even the tourists smacked each other around to get to them. Faint drumming indicated when the lion heads were close by. Lion heads come in a variety of colors (red, green, yellow, and black ones came out on Sunday). If you don’t know what one looks like, you really should google it. They’re extremely decorated and gorgeous, and I wouldn’t do them justice by simply describing them. Each martial arts club had it’s own entourage of a lion head, dancers, drummers, flag bearers, and crowd control. The lion heads made their way down the streets and into the businesses that left red envelopes out for them. They did an elaborate dance in front of the restaurant or shop and "fed" on a head of lettuce to symbolize money, all while the drums were furiously beating. It was a pretty amazing weekend.

A Traveler's Guide

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 03:05:45 GMT

We car-less travelers are extremely lucky that Hamilton is located near two major airports (Syracuse and Albany), a bus and Amtrak station in Utica, and numerous cab companies to shuttle us back and forth (on official breaks, Hamilton offers rides to both airports and Utica station). I usually travel by train, but all travel has the possibility to be a pain free experience if you follow these simple guidelines:

DO: Buy your ticket in advance. You’re traveling on a college student’s budget, after all.

DON’T: Worry too much about the weather when booking your ticket. According to weather.com only a week before my trip, last Thursday was supposed to be a wonderful “warm” day, almost reaching the mid-thirties. However, we were hit by a Nor’easter on Wednesday (as you might have heard from the jovial snow day entries…I, on the other hand, was mortified) and I had a very stressful traveling day.

DO: Call ahead and make sure your train, bus, or flight is on time. Then call a cab/con your friend/boss who drives (Thanks for the offer, Kyle (Graham 06’ our wonderful admissions officer)).

DON’T: Slyly ask your friend to borrow their car because you’re “heading out” and will “be back soon.” Trust me, they will notice.

DO: Be careful who you sit with. You will have to deal with your decision for several hours. Try to avoid the sprawled out sketchy guy, the girl with the cell phone glued to her face, the kid watching a laptop movie with no earphones, and all small children. If you’re traveling by plane, good luck with the assigned seating.

DON’T: Be any of those people mentioned above.

DO: Bring your own food. I like to bring bagels and fruit from Commons, one of Hamilton's Dining Halls.

DON’T: Buy/eat the food they offer...Ever.