Mis for Michigan, Wolverines' lair; I is for Iowa--Hawkeyes gawk there; S is for State on a couple school bios; East Lansing's S is Michigan's, Columbus', Ohio's; I's for Illini, who bubble Champaign, while MSU's Spartans are much less Urbane; N's for Northwesterners, paying tuition as OSU's Buckeyes reach football fruition; Wisconsin's girl Badgers may bite--it's inherent; Indiana's young Hoosiers can boast a Knight errant; M's Minnesota, where Gophers are gilt; and P's for Purdue, where girl Boilers are built. Put them all together, they spell Miss, I'm No Wimp. That's the introduction we hit upon for this age of the macha matriculator. If you're hitting up on any of this year's Girls of the Big Ten, forget the "slice of brie, jug of Perrier and thou" routine. As you've noticed by now (if, like a sensible person, you scanned the pictures first), the coeds are changing. Today's college girl is likely to prefer strength to chic, nuclear policy to unclear poetry and Indiana Jones to California Cabernet. And the Big Ten girl is more levelheaded than most, though that's her only lack of curvature. Our big group of tens includes future doctors, lawyers, politicians, anchor women and ranchers, as well as Katherine Leigh, whose ambition is to be "a rich, powerful woman." (She's got the last part down already.) Step right up, meet the students of success. It's OK if you offer to carry their legal tomes and microengineering manuals. Just remember--no wimps need apply.
