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A Princetonian’s letter to Santa Claus


Dear Santa,

Listen, Nick, we both know I have not exactly earned a spot on the Nice List this year. I’ve broken some promises, like when I said I would attend every class. Or when I said my GPA would be a 4.0. Or when I said I would be going to med school. I mean, you’re definitely not a morning person, given your schedule, so you’ll have to excuse my tardiness to 8:30 a.m. class. Anyway, here’s the list — I’m not asking for too much, so I’m sure we can work something out.


1. Let’s talk about family. Family is great, and I love them, really, but they’re always asking questions. “How’s school?” “What’re you majoring in again?” “Do you like it at Princeton?” “Have you found any nice boys?” “How’s school?” I need it to stop. Please. For every question asked by an aunt I haven’t met since I was a fetus, the topic must be restricted to harmless stuff that won’t make me cringe. Examples: “How’s your dog?” “Isn’t the weather nice?” “How are you so smart?” “How’s your dog?” See? It’s very simple.

2. Same as #1. Only with anyone from a high school asking me how I got into Princeton, and how he or she can get in too. I really don’t know. I’m just trying to live my life to eventually escape Princeton with a degree.

3. Now, about breaks. As benign autocrat of the North Pole, you rule the winter, and you know how much joy this time brings, so you have to admit that summer getting all that vacation time isn’t fair. Do you really want students working up until the edge, and then barely having any time to enjoy their winter break — I mean, worship you? You are Father Christmas and should demand more respect —definitely more than two weeks of Santa-worship. All I’m suggesting is that you make summer break a week or two shorter and winter break like five weeks longer so we can celebrate you. Because you’re worth it. It would benefit both of us. Trust me.

4. Finals need to be before break. Because really, the stress of not starting to study for exams or write your Dean’s Date assignment really gets to you — I mean, me. And I don’t want to break down and start crying at dessert over my Yule log. Not this year. Not like last time.

5. I demand that there be separate paths for bikers. The sidewalk isn’t big enough for the two of us (me and a biker), and I’m not trying to kick the bucket after being struck by a biker. But then again, if I’m hit we’re going to court. And you’re going to pay my tuition.

6. Grade inflation. Now that official deflation has gone the way of the dodo, it’s time to make sure that grade inflation gets its just desserts as well. But only if other schools (Yale) who shall not be named (Harvard) don’t have grade inflation, either. You’re all about fairness, aren’t you?


7. My preceptor’s phone number. Don’t ask questions.

8. Thicker walls. You know why.

9. The Heath bar cheesecake in Wu dining hall. Where did it go? As a fellow food lover, I know you’ll understand where I’m coming from. How would you feel if Mrs. Claus stopped baking cookies out of nowhere with no explanation? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

See Santa, I told you it wouldn’t be too difficult. I’m really not asking for much, and some of these things are truly for the greater good —don’t you agree, “Saint” Nick?

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Oh, and one last thing. I heard this Christmas might get pretty foggy. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to Rudolph, your favorite reindeer, now would you?

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You’ve been warned.


Merry Christmas!

—Danielle A. Taylor