Not all press is good press – and there’s no better time at Dartmouth to see and be seen than spring term. Bean boots go into hiding, I eventually muster the confidence to wear shorts (despite the inherent danger of exposing anyone to my fluorescent paleness) and the Green starts to feel a lot more crowded.
The best facetime hotspots are well known by now, but what about those places you run into everyone you know but really wish you hadn’t? (Look, it’s your freshman roommate! That guy from your LSA you drunkenly mutualled on Friendsy at 2 a.m. and immediately unclicked from panic! The professor of that class you dropped!)
It is the
best of times worst of times. As week nine rolls around, I think we can all agree that things are grim at best. As I write this post in the periodicals on a Saturday night, I’m realizing that there are way too many people in here with me, which is indicative of a few things: 1) Finals are coming, 2) I’m not the only one who hasn’t started that huge final paper due next week and 3) We are all screwed. Misery likes company, right?
Few things suck worse than pulling all-nighters (and subsequently sleeping through a final exam), but breaking even on DBA takes the cake. There are two kinds of people at Dartmouth — the people who end the term with negative DBA, and the people who leave with hundreds of dollars still left over. Come week ten, it’s nearly impossible to have hit that DBA sweet spot.
’18 at Collis: “There should be a VIP line at Collis.”
’16 guy: “I can’t go out in the rain. I lost my umbrella and I don’t own clothes with a hood. I also don’t wear hats because it messes up my hair. You don’t condition that shit for nothing.”
’18: “I tried to file a bias report against my boss because he’s an asshole but it turns out that’s not actually what those things are for.”
’18: “I want a lady in the streets and a freak at the buffet.”
’17: “My boyfriend got drunk and told me I look like Daniel from ‘Damn, Daniel.'”
’16: “I’ve pretty much decided that my primary form of exercise for the spring will be sexual activity.”
This Sunday will either be a day of romance or a reminder that you’re still single. Or–let’s be real here–it will be a day of post-Big Weekend recovery. Where do you fit in? Take this quiz to find out!
You’ve arrived at Late Night, a little too late. You look around at your options: cucumber seltzer, beans and rice, gluten-free pasta and the last container of sushi (Why is it the only one left? Why does no one else want it?) You begin to feel weirdly sad for these rejected items, and suddenly it hits you–what if you were a b-side late night food option? We can’t all be mac & cheese bites, so where do you stand? Find out here: Continue reading
We all know who Collis Steve is, and if you don’t, a) you’re lying b) you’re a liar or c) you sit on a throne of lies.
Picture this: as you reach for your meal, you lock eyes with the doppelganger of Peeta Mellark from “The Hunger Games” (2012). But Peeta didn’t do anything except lie around most of the time, and Collis Steve has just whipped up a dope stir-fry custom-made for you, so he definitely wins. You wonder whether the weird feeling in your stomach is post-12s hanger or a…deeper yearning. You pretend it’s the former and leave politely.