Read our Q&A with Judy here.
When College freshman Judy McIlwain first came to Penn, she was excited, ambitious and eager for a fresh start on a college campus, seeing it as a chance to escape her high school reputation as a “real fucking weirdo.” In the two months that have passed since, however, she has discovered that she doesn’t have what it takes to survive at an Ivy League institution and, if anything, has only further solidified her old high school reputation.
“I spend most of my time at Commons,” Judy explained. “It’s nice because they have those little corners where the lights don’t really work. I can sit on a stool in the dark and watch everybody hurry down Locust because they actually have places to be. It’s almost like I have places to be.”
Judy hoped to be a Biological Basis of Behavior major upon her arrival at Penn, but she quickly discovered that she was a huge fuck–up. She was equally overwhelmed by her writing seminar. Her justificatory essay sequence, in the words of her instructor, was “unreadable, I mean worse than usual. That Judy’s a real fuck–up.”
In addition to her academic failings, Judy also “really fucked up” at all of her a cappella try outs. “We had to ask her to finish her audition outside,” said Dischord senior, and Judy’s sister, Blythe McIlwain. “None of us could stand it.”
To deal with the bitter reality of rejection, Judy has taken to self–medicating with Commons ice cream. Explaining her rather unconventional flavor of choice, Judy said that “rainbow is really just vanilla with different colored dyes in it. The dyes sometimes mix together and turn greyish–brown, so almost no one ever eats it except for me. I like to mush it all up, that way no color wins.”
To pass the hours spent developing an intimate relationship with a fluorescent dessert bowl, Judy often hums the “Pitch Perfect” soundtrack to herself. Said one Commons worker, “I would feel bad for her if she wasn’t always smacking her lips with that ice cream, not like putting your lips together… but really smacking them. I try to avoid the dark corners at Commons because she’s always there.”
Judy’s Sansom Place roommate, Tara, who spoke to us on the condition of anonymity, has also noticed Judy’s desire for poor lighting. “One time I came in our room and she was unscrewing all the lightbulbs in our room. I said ‘Judy, what the hell have you done?’ She said, ‘Shh, it’s better this way,’” said Tara.
Between her explanatory essay sequence, bottomless dessert bowl and a cappella–of–one, Judy keeps herself busy. “Everything’s coming up Judy!” she exclaimed between smacks to her mouth, before retreating into the creamy, ephemeral ecstasy of month–old, untouched ice cream from Commons.
At press time, Judy was keeping her plans for the evening open. “What’s today, a Tuesday?” she asked. “I’ll probably just get Chinese food and sit in bed.” It was a Saturday.
