I t wou ldn’t be an exaggeration to say that I’ve been planning for this Fling for over a year.
For the first time, I went out and bought myself a fling tank. My parents were very confused as I tried to explain how the bandeau top worked with the large armholes .
But I’m pumped to get flung this year. (Is this the proper terminology?)
With help from my sorority sisters, I’ve begun mapping out my plans — how to get fried Oreos and where to take selfies . I’ve been educating myself so I can sing along with the new songs.
This time of year, though, I hear a lot of negativity about Fling. A sort of insane hype spreads through campus. The big question is: Who will be the main Fling performer?
I was abroad last year, so I missed what I have been promised was an epic upset. Other students abroad kept asking me if I felt bad missing any spring events.
My friends back at Penn promised me I wasn’t missing much — they didn’t even know the name of the performing group.
In fact, sometimes I feel like 90 percent of the hype surrounding Fling is the announcement. People dream about Fling performers.
And, even worse, people complain about the artists selected even before they are announced.
These are the skeptics. I used to be in this group.
It all seemed ridiculous to camp out in line to get try to get to a concert where, chances were, I’d be elbowed in the head. (As I had been freshman year.)
I’ve also taken to griping about the weather and wondering if I won’t just be happier staying in with my fuzzy blanket, a cup of tea and some “How I Met Your Mother” on Netflix.
But since with age comes great wisdom, as a senior I’m learning to look at the upcoming weeks differently.
This year, I’m looking forward to Fling, and not just because I really rock out to David Guetta. Fling is so much more than just a musical group — and even more than just a concert.
As much as I’m excited to jam out to “Play Hard ,” I’m trying to focus on what Fling means.
Fling is one of the few holidays that we can celebrate as a campus. Even the teachers get into it. (“Don’t drink before coming to class,” my Spanish teacher warned us. Ironic, considering the opposite attitude was the norm in Spain.)
Some people have the attitude that Fling isn’t for everyone, that only freshman go because they are naive and seniors because they are nostalgic. Or perhaps the common sentiment is that only partiers go, or only students who usually don’t party or ...
Fling is amazing. It’s one of the things that makes me proud to go to Penn.
I was talking to my mother, an alumna of Penn, and she recalled her own fond Fling memories.
I’m going to remember this concert years from now. I’m going to remember dancing with my friends and singing along even when I don’t know the words. And I’m going to remember seeing David Guetta.
As a former reporter, I realize how hard it is to get some sources to call you back, and I can’t wrap my head around the idea that somehow we’re getting celebrities to come and sing to us.
I find this as amazing and strange as if I returned home to my quad in Rodin to find Enrique Iglesias serenading my three roommates. David Guetta, whose music I purchased for $1.29 on iTunes, will be on the same campus as me.
And I get to hear him sing. To me. And my classmates. I don’t think I’ve fully processed this.
So the next time you start to complain about Fling — the next little whine or snark or comment — remember how freaking awesome it is. Even if the concert isn’t your jam or the fried Oreos don’t sound appetizing, consider Flinging in your own small way.
All I’m asking is: Let’s give each other this. This weekend — or week. To be a University and fist-bump to the same beat.
Sara Schonfeld is a College senior from Philadelphia studying English. Her email address is firstname.lastname@example.org or follow her @SaraSchon.
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