The Self-Roast of Nick Peters: A Story of Nick and the paper

Nick definetly cried– that’s why it took him so long to send this in

by Nick Peters

News Deaditor

Well this is it I guess.

During sophomore year I decided to join the paper on a whim. One of my friends, Luis, had been trying and failing all year to get a bunch of our friend group to join this wonderful newspaper club. Eventually I caved in and decided to take the bullet. I did have some interactions with this newspaper before then. In the early weeks of my first semester Freshman year, I picked up an issue. After laughing at some of what I was reading, and not being able to nail down whether or not it was satire, I thought about joining. I didn’t. I also accompanied a friend to a meeting that second semester, but never went back.

Finally I joined, almost two years into my Fordham career. I went to a meeting and signed up for a bunch of articles. I was terrified the first time I ever went to the print shop, imagining an actual professional print shop with a giant printing press ripped straight out of the 1700s. I’m a little dumb sometimes. I still went in despite my stupid fear.

It was the best choice of my college career.

Since then, I have been a copy editor and a staff writer, a Copy Chief for a week until I became an Arts Editor with Matt, and then a News Editor first with Rachel (TEAM DEFINETLY) and then with Declan (TEAMNEWZ). And now I’m a deaditor. I also picked up a Treasurer position for the club along the way, which Siobhan and Kelly thought would be funny to give to me. I’m totally not bitter that this deadit is the first time the fact I held this position for more than a year has ever been referenced in anything paper related. Not bitter. At all.

I loved every second of working at the print shop, every aspect about working on producing the best possible section, and all my failures in doing so. From photoshopping and Microsoft painting some lovingly crafted fake ads to typing in interesting and hilarious captions and headlines, to even just banging my head against a wall trying to figure out InDesign, to writing the events pages for arts and the fakers for news, all of this accompanied by our random bored hijinks in the shop. I’ve done a lot that I’m proud of here.

Making the paper was hard. It was stressful. But I loved it because I had freedom and fun in making it. At the time, I would sometimes really hate going to the print shop. It would get in the way of my life. Now I miss it.

I have had many memorable experiences creating articles as well. I went slowly insane watching and then writing about every Superbowl ad from two Superbowls ago. I wrote a very long interview with Scott, where we discussed my newly found love of the strange world of professional wrestling which he helped me get into. I revisited my childhood when I watched and reviewed a horde of Godzilla movies. Heck, I wrote a Mac and Cheese recipe this summer that’s delicious and everyone reading this deadit should try making it.

I also started and ended a bi-weekly news column called the Damage Report which was a lot more stress than you’d imagine, but I’m still proud of what I had created for the time it ran. However, the best parts of the paper wasn’t any of this. It’s every single person in the club. These are some of my closest friends, as we slowly morphed from editors into a family. And a damn awesome one. There are just too many fantastic memories with everyone. All the paper parties every production weekend, (which eventually became every weekend, and then every week). Going to Rachel’s old and new apartments, going to Michael Jack’s apartment, having people at my apartment. Hanging out, playing board games, having movie nights, getting ready to go out. Traveling up to White Plains to Matt’s house for Paperfests, (side note: Thank you Mrs. Whittaker for your delicious cooking. Your brownies and other deserts kept us alive during production). I loved when we would get Sangria at Estrallitas, although my bank account really didn’t. I loved how we would go to see movies together. There’s the fact that I live with both former Editor-in-Chiefs, Luis and Looby.

And then there’s all the little things. Things such as just texting in our group chat, or the spinoff group chat that some of us were exiled to because we talked a little too much about movies and superheroes. When I would be alone over break, our dumb conversations would keep me sane. Let’s also not forget about our roasts of each other. Me roasting another editor (I’m sorry Papel Roe) led to the creation of a roast of me. These jerks eventually put over thirty different points on it, although a few were just acknowledging how long the list was. I keep it in my room now. One day really jumps into my mind when I think about this group.

During our last Christmas Paperfest, we had a secret Santa. I remember receiving a bowl sized mug with tequila shots and a bunch of other goodies in it. And then we signed everyone’s paper covers, writing personal notes to each other on them. I was happy-sad looking at what my friends wrote for me. These were people who get me. I didn’t have a lot of close friends growing up, and the ones that I did I never felt knew me. These guys did. I haven’t really told anyone but I cried when I got home.

This deadit hurts to write, because this means its over. It would be stereotypical to say this not the end, because it is. But hey, sometimes things need to end. But you know what, I’d rather have had an amazing experience end, than to have never gone on it. And the best part is, the friends I’ve made will always be there. I mean, I’m writing this deadit while some of them are in my apartment right now watching a movie. I guess this is goodbye. The last sentence I ever want to write for the paper is this. I love you guys.

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