Column: Pink 'Blue Cups' mean more than they do

Over Fall Break, I was one of a lucky few who were selected to go to New York on a networking trip through the MJ-school. A second home to many UNC students, especially those who majored in journalism, it’s a destination that is somewhat known for bringing the South north.

We met with a UNC graduate on Thursday who mentioned Blue Cups from He’s Not Here. While we were sitting at a table in the Wall Street Journal, a very prestigious news outlet, she stopped telling us about her very cool, important job to let us know that there was a bar in the city with Blue Cups.

When we told her that He’s Not was serving pink Blue Cups to fight against breast cancer, she was thrilled. We spent probably a good five minutes talking about them — why, when, etc. To her, the pink Blue Cups were interesting.

To many UNC students, that’s true, too.

We only had a hotel room for Wednesday and Thursday, so my friends and I stayed with a friend on Friday night. When we told him about this encounter, he was agreeable — not shocked, not excited.

I asked him if he wanted one. After all, the woman at the Journal wanted one.

He told me, in not so agreeable words, no.

Blue Cups are the symbol of #collegelife at UNC. You are meant to drink a Blue Cup before a football or a basketball game. You are meant to drink a Blue Cup in between classes and at the end of the night, right before last call.

When I asked my friend why he reacted so strongly against us sending him a pink Blue Cup, he responded thoughtfully.

He said that getting sent a Blue Cup meant that you liked college more than you like your life at the moment. And, in the defense of the woman at The Wall Street Journal, I don’t think that’s necessarily true. As a woman who’s been graduated from college for more than 10 years, she’s nostalgic. She remembers UNC fondly, and she wanted a collector’s item. After all, I’ve lived in the area for my entire life, and I don’t remember an instance where Blue Cups were anything but blue.

But for him, a May graduate, getting a Blue Cup means that he misses drinking in the afternoon, more than he wants to pitch and write a front-page story for the prestigious news organization where he works.

I get both sides of the argument. As a senior, I’m trying to figure out where my loyalty lies. At this stage in my life, I’m currently failing a class badly and not doing well in most of the other classes that I need to graduate (aka all of them). I almost cried on the way back from New York because I wasn’t ready to stop avoiding my life in Chapel Hill. I was, and I am, ready to move on.

Will I want a Blue Cup — or even a pink Blue Cup — when I’m a year out of college? My guess is probably not.

But will I want a Blue Cup in five years? In 10? My hope is that I will.

So He’s Not — keep making collector’s editions. Keep making symbols of #collegelife.

We’ll keep coming back. No matter the distance.

@sarahvassello

swerve@dailytarheel.com