Would you rather be a clueless first-year or an overly knowledgeable senior?
– Curiosity Killed the Frat
Dear Curiosity Killed the Frat,
You’ve asked a v. thought provoking “would you rather.” I am going to disregard both of your options for my own answer: I would rather be a “blissfully-aware-but-not-yet-jaded” sophomore or junior.
First year is a fluke — full of mistakes, mixers and misconceptions. Oh, you like that boy? He’s hooking up with four other people. Oh, you’re pre-med? Sucks to be you, you just got a 53 percent on your first exam. Oh, you guys are going to Dewick at prime lunch time? Good luck finding a table, NARPS! No one knows what the SWUG is going on first year, meaning that first-years are just little monsters running around campus with zero rules. To paraphrase my idol, Liz Lemon, I would not like to go to there.
As an overly knowledgeable senior, I can say that this too is not ideal. As a SWUG you know all too well how this place runs. You know that former flames can treat each other like dirt with very few consequences. You know that first-year friendships are not forever, and relationships and interests change week by week. You know that you’re bored of the same old Tufts scene that you’ve been stuck in for four years, but you’re not quite ready to leave. You know that you were an awful version of yourself first year, and that Senior Spring brings people back to this place. Knowledge is not power in this situation. It’s just annoying.
That’s why I’d like to be a “blissfully-aware-but-not-yet-jaded” sophomore or junior. You know what’s up, who most people are and how to navigate it all (most of the time). There are still bound to be flukes, but you’re better suited to handle them. You’re no longer the mess you were first year, and you’re not yet preparing to be a real person. You’ve got time, you’ve got energy and you’ve got just the right amount of knowledge. So for SWUG’s sake, cherish it!
Or I’d like to be a fifth-year senior on an unlimited meal plan and taking zero classes. @tonymonoco LMK if this is possible.
SWUG here, in need of advice from a fellow SWUG,
I recently acquired a giraffe onesie (seventh night of Hanukkah) that I would like to never ever take off, ever again. I need help deciding if this is an achievable goal or if there are places and times in which I must change into more socially acceptable clothing (say leggings and an oversized hoodie). Any help is appreciated, but don’t be too too mean ’cause I’m a little sensitive, ya know?
Can I wear my onesie to:
A) Lecture class in Cohen
B) Smaller classes in various locations
C) Trader Joe’s
D) The Pub
E) Lily’s Nails on Boston Ave
F) Pure Barre on Newbury
G) The Burren
H) Senior pub night
I) Internship in Boston
J) House of Blues
K) Spring Break
M) Post-grad lyfe
I thank you in advance for your advice and for your dedication to the distribution of wisdom.
Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Comfiness
Dear Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Comfiness,
Mazel on your new onesie!! I’m a little jealous, but not really, ’cause me and my dog own matching Hanukkah onesies, so I kind of onesie-up you!
No questions asked, you can wear your onesie to: A) Lecture class in Cohen, D) The Pub, H) Senior Pub Night, K) Spring Break, and M) Post-grad lyfe. Pretty much everything else on your list requires at least the leggings and hoodie combo, or maybe a robe of some sort.
However, I am not opposed to you pushing the onesie boundaries, and knocking them off that list onesie by onesie, or in onesie fell swoop. It’s a great way to prove to future employers and naysayers that you’re onesie of a kind!
Take lots of pictures of this onesie in a lifetime adventure and tweet them to @a_SWUGs_life.
This is onesie for the books!
The onesie and only SWUG