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Military Ball. No two words rouse more ire or stress than Military Ball. My freshman year, it was optional to attend. If you could find a date (and some how miraculously I did), you put on your best dress (or dress uniform if you were a guy), and you showed up to have fun. If you didn’t, you stayed home and watched “Star Trek: Next Generation” reruns in the dorm lounge.
A year or two after that, however, Military Ball became mandatory, and boy did that piss people off. Honestly, I can only recall going to Mil Ball twice – my freshman year and my senior year. Each of those times I had a date (and I married the guy who I took my senior year to the Ball). I don’t recall pulling on the uniform during those two dateless years. Did I somehow manage to get out of it? If so, I wonder what miracle occurred that exempted me from sweating for hours in an ugly uniform? (The dress uniform never looked good on women, believe me.)
Oh well, whatever happened those two years must not have been important to me. I only remember the angst so many freshman suffered over trying to find a date the year the Ball became mandatory to attend.