6 | THURSDAY, MAY 21, 2020
THE CALIFORNIA AGGIE
WE CAN STILL DRESS UP EVEN THOUGH WE’RE STUCK AT HOME Keeping up with a routine can still be meaningful during quarantine M A R I O R O D R I G UE Z / AGGI E
BY S I M RA N KA L KAT skkalkat@ucdavis.edu When schools announced temporary remote instruction due to the coronavirus, millions of students across the country had to adapt to a different lifestyle, one that involved spending all of their time in their homes. There are many new things to consider, among them: To wear pants or not to wear pants? The highlight of my regular school day happens at around 11 p.m. every night. I stop
whatever work I’m doing and watch 20 minutes of Gilmore Girls while I braid my hair and choose my outfit for the next morning. As someone with really long hair, doing intricate braids is exactly the kind of cathartic activity I need before ending the day. I then use the last bit of my remaining brain power to pick out a new outfit and scrounge through jewelry boxes for the best matching earrings. There’s something relaxing and reassuring about the mechanical steps of getting ready for classes every morning. I’m no fashionista, but picking out the next day’s outfit is about the
most fun thing that I can get done. I like feeling confident and put together. So when California announced a shutdown and universities switched to remote learning, I knew I had to keep my routine even with stay at home orders. Quarantine is hard and can be burdensome on our mental health. In a matter of days, bustling cities became ghost towns. Even though we can’t go about our usual routines, there are many self-care strategies that can help us cope with quarantine. Activities such as plentiful sleep, physical activity and keeping up a usual routine can provide a sense of stability and normalcy. I thought I would miss the daily thrum of morning activity, but quarantine didn’t mean this had completely come to an end. I’ve loved seeing how certain parts of fashion responded and changed to the coronavirus, from silly ideas like the social distancing disc to people showing off glamorous shelter in place outfits on social media. But my favorite has to be The New Yorker’s Rachel Syme kicking off the “#distancebutmakeitfashion” trend. The point is to spend every Sunday scraping together the most stylish outfit to wear at home. We might all be confined to our homes, but this doesn’t mean we can’t flaunt marvelous evening dresses and share pictures of our outfits with a “capelet or perhaps a jaunty silk scarf.” If anything, this is the perfect time to put together an outfit that otherwise might have seemed ridiculous and outlandish, but screams “you.” And then of course, there’s the emergence of face masks as not just a public health provision but as a popular trend gaining traction in fashion. From supermodel Cindy Crawford to House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, face masks have become a
wider and more popular fashion accessory. When many countries across Africa enforced a policy of compulsory facemasks, fashion designers and fashionistas used this as an opportunity to craft the perfect masks that would match their style. “When you come out in a stylish mask or with an accessory such as this, it doesn’t seem as though we’re fighting a war. It seems more fun,” said Nigerian fashion designer Sefiya Diejomaoh in an interview with Reuters. Even for the most resolute of us, quarantine and social distancing is challenging. I miss being able to do basic activities, like doing my homework in the CoHo or going downtown to my favorite bookstore. I also miss being in my apartment in the afternoon when my roommates are out, and belting Taylor Swift while getting dressed. But every night now before I go to sleep, I still watch a bit of Gilmore Girls or the Great British Bake Off while braiding my hair. Instead of walking 30 minutes to campus in the morning, I walk for 30 minutes around the neighborhood with my dog. Two months ago, our current situation was unfathomable to many of us, and still is today, even as we live through it. In such difficult times, our foremost priority should be taking care of ourselves and those around us in what ways we can. For some, that might mean creating a routine — that kind of a constant can be an enormous help. But that also doesn’t mean it’s the best option for everyone. This isn’t a call to get out of your sweats and wear your favorite outfit, but don’t let quarantine stop you from strutting around in that cute dress you’ve been dying to wear.
HUMOR
“MY DOCTOR SAID THE HOSPITAL LACKED THE RESOURCES TO TEST/ TREAT ME FOR CORONAVIRUS, SO I CUT OUT HIS TONGUE!” Today’s “Rant and Rave” column
BY B E NJAMIN PO RT ER bbporter@ucdavis.edu
KA ITLYN PA N G / AGGIE
RANT: To all the doctors. Doctors these days, am I right? What’s the deal with them, anyway? I went to the hospital recently to see if they could check out these symptoms I’ve been having that have been driving me crazy for a week or so now. My doctor was worried I might have that covioid thing that’s been goin’ round, but she said that the hospital lacked the resources to test me for the virus, and that even if I did have it, they didn’t have the necessary medical supplies to treat me for it anyway. This really pissed me off. No, no, no — not the information that she was telling me — just the fact that she was saying it. Having to listen to that BS really pissed me off. So I zoned out for a bit. I stared out the window of the exam room while she rambled on and on, making up scary stories to try to scare me. I think I may have even fallen asleep for a sec because as I was looking out the window into the hospital’s parking lot, I think I dreamt that there were medical professionals transporting dozens of bodies into a large truck outside. Yeah, I was definitely asleep and having a weird dream because there is no way that there would actually be truckloads full of dead bodies everywhere. That couldn’t happen in America, the greatest country in the world! The doctor snapped her fingers to make sure I was still listening to her. She reiterated that there are extreme medical supply shortages, so I asked for a different doctor. A second doctor
came in and said the same thing, adding that the United States risks facing its “darkest winter in modern history” if it doesn’t step up its response to the pandemic. I asked for a third opinion. A third doctor came in, repeated all of those same lame concerns, and added, “I’m a scientist, a physician and a public health official. I give advice, according to the best scientific evidence.” I asked the doctor if I could just go back to work already, and he said this could cause “needless suffering and death.” I told him that this warning was “not acceptable.” The doctor kept pretending to sound reasonable while arrogantly trying to play all sides of the equation, so I decided that I just couldn’t take listening to this anymore. I had to shut that doctor up. So you know what I did? I took out my Swiss Army knife and I cut out his tongue! He won’t be scaring anybody with all this alarmism anymore! Then I just calmly walked out of there and nobody seemed to care. How could everyone in the hospital be so busy that they wouldn’t notice a tongue on the ground? Boy, do they need to step it up... RAVE: To the coronavirus! I still don’t have it! At least I don’t think I do. I mean, how would anybody know something like that for sure, anyway? Submitted by California Aggie reader Frank Leonid E. Ottikaz-Hatte. Please submit your Rants and Raves for next week to bbporter@ucdavis.edu!
MU PREACHER STILL PREACHING AT THE MU Should I even talk to him?
K IYO M I WATSO N / AGGI E
BY MAT T HE W SI MO N S mrsimons@ucdavis.edu I walked by the Memorial Union last week and it was completely different. COVID-19 cleared out the campus. Except for one guy. I walked past with my groceries, and the MU Preacher was still there — an icon of UC Davis. He held a bible in his left hand. His right hand alternated between jabbing at the sky and stroking
his beard. His voice echoed unchallenged across the Quad. He really didn’t know the campus was empty. “And from on high, the wicked shall receive their just rewards! In college, you must think of life and its values. These values you sow now will be those you reap later!” He shouted. As I approached, his shouting got louder. “You there! What will you do when your groceries cannot fill you any longer? When you
cannot quench your soul’s hunger with an apple or a pear?” I mumbled something under my breath. His eyes narrowed and his head snapped in my direction. “WHAT WAS THAT, YOUNG MAN?” I bit my tongue. I don’t wanna get in a fight. What if he beat me up? “OUT WITH IT, CHILD,” he roared at me and my bag of produce. I lost my cool.
“NO ONE IS HERE ON CAMPUS OLD MAN.” S**t. I’m really gonna get it now. I gripped my bag of groceries closer to me. If I’m going to get my a*s beat, I can still save a pear or two from bruising. I brace for impact. But no strike comes. No yelling. I look up to see his glassy stare is gone. He’s looking around the Quad. “Everyone’s…” His eyes dart back and forth across campus. “Gone...” From deep within his chest, he starts shaking. “Everyone’s gone! Everyone’s GONE! EVERYONE’S GONE!” His head tilts downward. “I’m FREE!” he shouts. His signature hat explodes into stardust. His clothes change color. What were once a grey coat and blue jeans have become bright red, orange and yellow swirls in a cloak he now wears. His long beard is still intact. “You’ve set me free, boy!” he says, slapping me on the back. His eyes are wild with happiness. “Because of a curse, I was doomed to preach here as long as there were students to hassle! Now, with no students on campus, I’m free!” He lights a cigar and inhales deeply. “H-hey,” I stutter. “Aren’t preachers not supposed to s-smoke?” “That preacher s**t was all part of the curse, my boy!” He produces a flask from his cloak and begins drinking heavily. He offers it to me and I nervously decline. “Say, you wanna hit up a casino? A young man like yourself has gotta know where we can hit a place like that!” “I don’t think that I—” “Better yet, we’ll just fly there ourselves!” He bends his legs and straightens his hips. “E-X-C-E-L-S-I-O-R!” he cries, and he explodes into the sky toward Sacramento, leaving a rainbow in his wake. I sat there, gazing in awe. Then, one by one I picked up my fruits and put them in my bag. I walked home. That week, I wrote my column at the Aggie on grain subsidies in South Africa. I mean, c’mon. Who would believe this other s**t?
