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UC Divest, SJP Encampment

Confessions of a would-be Trojan

By Daily Bruin Staff

June 9, 1996 9:00 p.m.

Sunday, June 9, 1996

Squirrel sightings, maternal mandates swayed big decision

I almost went to USC. I was brought up at the Coliseum wearing
cardinal and gold. Practically my whole family went there ­
parents, grandparents and my two aunts. My little brother just
finished his freshman year at USC. The back of our car has three
USC stickers and one UCLA sticker. You should see the funny looks
we get. My sister, who drives the car now, gets glares, cheers,
honks, thumbs ups and the finger. One never knows just which school
the passers-by are cheering for.

I never thought that I would go to UCLA. I only applied here to
see if I would get in. My mom said it was a waste of time and money
­ she thought I would never go here. Much to my surprise, I
got in. I just kind of ignored the acceptance letter, still
thinking that I would never set foot in Westwood (not that I knew
where Westwood was). I probably would have gone to the university
across town if it had not been for my mom. She made (and I mean
MADE) me come visit the campus.

When I came to visit, it was April, 1992. The weather was
beautiful and there was no construction on campus. My mom and I
walked all over campus looking at all the traditional sights ­
Royce Quad, the Bruin Bear and the infamous squirrels. I thought
the squirrels running around the campus were so awesome! I was soon
to learn that squirrels make better roadkill than anything else.
When I left UCLA that day it had become one of my top two
choices.

As May 1 got closer and closer, I still had not decided on a
school. I was practically forced to make a decision so my
destination could be announced at a formal reception. The lady in
charge kept calling and harassing me to just say something. I told
her to just say that I would be attending a college in California.
I made my decision the day of the reception. I was studying outside
and I just suddenly knew. I told no one, except the lady in charge.
Announced that night was, "Logan Elizabeth Krogh, daughter of Mr.
and Mrs. Chris Krogh, will be attending the University of
California, Los Angeles." I have never heard a collective gasp as
loud as the one that emanated from the table in the corner where my
parents, siblings, grandparents, aunt and uncle sat. I thought my
family would disown and disinherit me. They were in disbelief
­ that I had made a decision and that I had decided on
UCLA.

Since then I have never regretted that decision. If I had gone
to USC, I never would have had the wonderful experiences and
memories that go along with being a Bruin. I loved my freshman year
roommate, Brittany. I will never forget the answering machine
messages that we made in the middle of the night eating M&M’s,
laughing at Ray B. Squirrel sightings, playing the "who did you see
today" game and the life size poster of Cruella DeVille. I never
thought that I would have a more perfect roommate until I met my
current roommate, Blythe. We met my freshman year, and she is just
as anal as I am. We have survived front pledge, Tim, fashion
crises, bus fiascos and being officers. She has taught me that when
the doorbell rings it is not always a guest for me and that it is
OK to wear black and navy blue together (well, she tried).

My three favorite professors are here, not there: Chuck
O’Connell, who somehow knew that I constantly passed notes to my
friend in his Sociology 1 class in Haines 39 and never said
anything; Marc Dollinger, who gave me great ideas on how to teach
and a great grad school recommendation; and Mitzi Myers, who
introduced me to new books I would not have read and reintroduced
me to old ones.

The words "Murphy Hall" would bring no images of bureaucracy and
long lines. The phrase "Goooo Bruins!" would not remind me of
countless hours trying to arrange my schedule so perfectly, only to
find out that all four classes that I wanted were full. I would
still think that people from NorCal are no different than those
from SoCal. Let me tell you, the differences are huge, and after
four years I still cannot figure out why anyone would want to live
anywhere but Southern California. (Did you ever notice that people
from SoCal put the word "the" when talking about a freeway i.e. THE
405, THE Harbor freeway).

If I had gone to USC I would not have won a National Basketball
Championship. In fact, I probably never would have won a basketball
game. I would have lost to my crosstown rival five years in row in
football. I did not become a Bruin Walk hang like HSS, rather I
became a Lu Valle hang where I discovered cappuccino royales. USC
has neither Bruin Walk nor cap royales. I would never have worked
at the Daily Bruin, one of my favorite places to hang out (besides
548 Kelton).

I might never have been a member of Kappa. That has always been
something that I have been proud of, despite the anti-greek
sentiment on this campus. I found a place that I belong to and feel
comfortable in, something sometimes difficult to do on a large
campus. Through Kappa, I learned how important having women friends
is.

I might have been a Trojan. But I am not. I am a Bruin and I owe
it all to my mom, who made me come and visit four years ago. Thanks
mom.

Krogh is graduating with a degree in history.

The back of our car has three USC stickers and one UCLA sticker.
You should see the funny looks we get. … One never knows just
which school the passers-by are cheering for.

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