Dear Money People,
This summer break, I would be honored to represent Yale as the young self-promoter that this great institution has shaped me to be. Please find here my ambitious grant proposal.
In preparation for my esteemed medical career I will be opening Band-Aids at Bellevue Hospital. Sitting in the first public hospital in the US, surrounded by the creme de la creme of medicine, I will open those Band-Aids faster than you can say “med school application.”
As a budding important person, it is critical that I sit down and write my autobiography. As Churchill said: “Do it for the fans.”
I am taking it upon myself to neuter the cats in Israel. This is not a political statement, I am just so sick of those horny, mangy, one-eyed cats.
I will shadow a ballerina, step-for-step.
As the pilgrim that I am, I will walk the Appalachian Trail with neon paint on my feet (refreshing the paint along the way). Trail maintenance, people. Everyone will know the way for the rest of time. (Unless I get lost and then that will be a real problem.)
I will take one for the team, driving cross-country and taking a sample from every Costco (514, including Puerto Rico). I will present you with some souvenir toothpicks.
I will take some Me Time and pick the glitter out of my hair from Spring Fling. It’s feminist performance art, titled “Get That Crap Out, I Swear It’s Carcinogenic.”
I endeavor to sign up for a one-week free trial at every Soul Cycle in TriBeCa. Please find attached estimate for the Lululemon.
You know what? I’m going to take the time to walk all around my neighborhood. We live in these places that we never even look at! It’s right in my backyard!
Can I please buy David Swensen an iPhone so he can stop having to painstakingly punch his emails out at 4 a.m. on his godforsaken Blackberry?!
This small businessman is starting a lemonade stand. That shit makes a lot of money, okay, and I know Susie sort of has this block covered (and believe me Susie is no joke), but with your support my juice will be of the hand-picked fresh-squeezed variety.
You’ll find me in my kitchen, experimenting with grains. Pasta, couscous, you name it: a culinary adventure.
You’ll find me in Nepal, experimenting with drugs.
I’m working at this really brave organization that tutors nonlegacy kids with their college applications.
My Startup™ will create and market a Keurig machine but with alcohol. Website: beautiful. Business card: beautiful, and did I give you one yet? Office space: in the new New York City skyscraper that everyone says is ruining the view of other New York City skyscrapers. Converse with suit: check. Just got to get an engineer to figure this thing out and boom!
I’ll just be sitting here, deciding what things in my life cause cancer. Like this computer.
I’m actually going to take pictures with kids in poor countries, I know, thanks, and then posting shockingly simplistic and naive captions, like, “miss ya, buddy boy!” It will be an amazing experience.
I’ll be running around the beach putting sunscreen on people. They just won’t learn.
I’m acting out a statue in MOMA. I can’t tell you more about it. The art is only to be experienced, but also there’s a whole sub-level that you probably won’t get that involves challenging the notions of our spatio-temporal framework and the warped view of our deterministic existentialism that it creates.
I am aware of the requirement to bullshit a 500-word essay, my magnum opus, by the end of summer in gratitude for this opportunity. Oh, and remember: I need monies!
Thanks.
Daisy Massey | dorothy.massey@yale.edu