Word: jcr
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...three main areas, each of which had a decidedly different feel. Those looking for the typical Harvard dance experience—i.e., sweaty writhing in a dark room with DJ Straus—found what they wanted in the Lev Old Library. Across the hall in the JCR, formal-goers enjoyed a tasty chocolate fountain while random revelers, presumably aided by the free-flowing open bar (FlyBy and friends had no problem doubling up on drinks), struck up tunes on the piano...
...that incest thing, right?” It’s a classic case of fearing what one does not understand, a defense mechanism against that troubling desire to be rid of one’s society-imposed reservations and find out what goes on in that darkened JCR every December...
Inside, the food in the JCR reminded FlyBy of info session food a bit too much (yeah, not a pleasant flashback). And the bump-n-grind area? Solid. Relatively unpopulated for most of the time, DJ Straus kept everyone's body movin' with some sweet mixes for most of the night. But as the general gripe with DJ Straus goes: the attendants craved classics to sing along to as the night came to a close...and DJ Straus refused to deliver. No big loss though...
...that it allowed guests to transcend both space and time. No, the event’s theme wasn’t “Take Me to the Moon” (thank God!). But the formal’s bifurcated set up—a dance party inside the JCR with a mildly classy live band and schmooze-fest outside in the Gore Courtyard—made FlyBy feel like it was teleporting between Junior Prom and a wedding reception...
...give HoCo some credit. There was a little less angst and a little more inebriation in the JCR than at Prom. But throughout the night there were no real signs of a grand old time—no DFMOs, no dirty dancing, not really even too much bumping and/or grinding. FlyBy blames that on the cheesy disco light medley and the jaded turn-of-the-millennium playlist that included hits like “My Boo” and “Numa Numa...