Mind reading, or how does my alumni association know me?

Penn State has one of the largest - if not the largest - alumni associations in the country. I know this because at each homecoming parade I attended at college, dozens of alumni chapters from around the country would march in the parade. And it would take forever.

I vowed never to join the alumni association and become one of those crazy alums who is PSU-obsessed forever, but the school's president thwarted me. At graduation, we were told we'd get a free one-year membership. How freaking generous of you, Graham Spanier. I already had received calls from Lion Line before I graduated. I told my fellow students very kindly that PSU wouldn't be receiving any money until I paid off my student loans, and that they could call me back in 15-20 years when that happened. I seriously think my already-expired alumni association card has a tracking chip in it - I've moved three times since graduation and they've found me each time.)

So, I'd still continue to be Stingy McClosedwallet, except I unknowingly gave money to PSU. After you graduate, you occasionally get some money back from the bursar. And I had signed a form in the past that said "upon graduation, any remaining funds can be entered into PSU's Annual Fund to benefit other students/university programs/etc. etc." So I became a $100+ donor without even knowing it.

The school apparently thinks I'm good for some money again, because the other day, I got a package in the mail from the alumni association complete with Nittany Lion Shrine address labels! Sheets of them. They are adorable. Oh yeah - and there was a little card asking for money, too - personalized with my name and address on it, and a section asking if I wished to designate my gift to the College of Communications or the Schreyer Honors College. It's like they can read my mind.

And the cuteness of the labels has me considering giving a gift. I mean, what's $25? A drop in the bucket to PSU, but ... if it goes to the honors college, well ...

DAMN YOU, Graham Spanier! And your washboard, too!