AHHHHHHYEAAAAAAYYYYY YOU’RE GOING TO NERDWESTERN NORTHWESTERN NORTHWASTED !!!!!
Congratulations. Sincerely. You took 7 or 8 AP exams and scored somewhere 33+ on your ACT* You wrestled away your school’s student presidency from that fucking bitch Katie Taylor and you sacrificed a healthy sleep schedule for that batch of A pluses.
And now,
It’s all paid off.
This wasn’t supposed to be a “reaction article.”
This was supposed to be encouragement to those suffering to get help, an attempt at reviewing resources, a guide for friends of sufferers and a plea to take care of each other. It’s been drafted and re-edited by countless sources for months now. It wasn’t supposed to be immediately relevant.
This Friday, A&O (which stands for something, but literally no one knows what) is hosting a concert featuring a black musical act preceded by a white musical act that guy from Community, and some band that you don’t listen to, but that one girl from your dorm who ironically wears the same glasses as your grandpa listens to. It’s at some time, probably at night.[1] There will also be Morty Schapiro a special guest. They actually do this concert every fall, they host it at our basketball arena (Welsh-Ryan), and they call it A&O Blowout.
The site of what will certainly be the greatest experience of the latter half of one of your Fridays.
Now, you’re a freshman, and the only concert experience you’ve ever had is that one time you went with your mom to see John Mayer and had to uncomfortably listen to her sing along with “Your Body is a Wonderland”. You’re in college now, and after almost four weeks on campus you think you’ve pretty much got everything down pat. So since there’s this concert being held very close to campus that’s like super cheap, you’re probably thinking, “fuck yeah, let’s go!” And you should go. Attending Blowout is a freshman rite-of-passage; you go your first year here, realize it’s kinda meh, and then never go again.[2] That being said, it definitely doesn’t have to be meh; you can have a great time, as long as you know what to do and what to expect. So let Sherman Ave fill you in with the deets. You trust us, right?
Dear Class of 2017,
Three short years ago the class of 2014 shuffled at the pace of a dehydrated desert tortoise because everyone’s parents felt the need to take photos every five steps marched through the arch and commenced the drunk, sweaty adventure that was Wildcat Welcome 2010. In a few weeks, we’re really looking forward to sitting on our front porches, drinking beer that isn’t Busch Light, and watching you wander aimlessly as you try to find that awesome party near the corner of Maple and Simpson.
Bonus: Norris can double as a Soviet bunker circa 1977!
Rumor has it that Northwestern is full of nerds, but I bet you’re thinking that the class of 2017 is gonna be different. “We’ll socialize!” you say, “We’ll never set foot in the library!”, “We’ll skip office hours to go to impromptu jam sessions on the lakefill!”
Ah, how grand it is to be young and naive. I bet you also think that, during all of your so-called ‘free time,’ you’ll spend hours laughing and being merry with friends in the student union, pausing from your leisure only to accept a beer from your waiter, or to play with one of the freely roaming puppies.
I’m here to burst your bubble and tell you that Norris is nothing like the heavenly place you have been dreaming about.
Not listed: That Guy.
The Walking College Stereotype
Every sitcom and movie involving college students likes to portray them as rigidly focused students looking for their way in life during the day, and uncontrollable party animals at night. On Wednesday days at 3 A.M., they’re at the library struggling to stay awake – and on Saturday nights they’re at the bar struggling to stay standing. They’ll pull at least two all-nighters every week, eat ramen or fast food for every lunch and dinner, and get blackout drunk every weekend. Some people are like this for the first couple weeks of their freshman year – and others are this person for the entirety of their college lives; however, one thing is certain: you will come across someone like this at some point in college.
Mr. or Mrs. Pre-Professional
This person is always working towards some goal that they had in their childhood. They’re in the pre-med class, the pre-med fraternity, the pre-med club, and even the pre-med field hockey team. It’s impossible to talk to this person without eventually hearing “When I’m a doctor,” or “When I’m at Harvard Law.” The entirety of their life revolves around their future, and they won’t let you forget it.
Tears come easier afteer a long day of pregaming football games.
You should probably study sometime
Those C’s will catch up with you and prevent you from doing some pretty cool shenanigans. For those of you who didn’t have to study in high school – shit got real once you showed up here. Learn how to study (it’s difficult, I know).
People here all have cool backgrounds and interesting stories
Most people at Northwestern aren’t vapid, moronic human beings. We’re all pretty cool and interesting. I even know someone from a town who had a guy going around fucking sheep. Yes, you read that right.
Dressing up for parties isn’t as fun and sexy as you thought it’d be
In fact, it’s really tiring… I’m just straight up exhausted with seeing decked-out freshmen walk into parties rolling 30-deep. It’s 7 degrees outside. Ditch the skirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination and do your best to obtain a little self-respect.
Dignity is hard!
Your hookups will definitely come back to haunt you on your walk down Sheridan Road, and you wont know if a) they remember you and b) if you should say hi. You’ll also probably have had some less than stellar nights and moments at parties where “What the fuck?” was the only possible reaction. Hold your head high and suck it up. You’re better than those moments and people will forget about it. Probably.
That awkwardness doesn’t mean you should be unfriendly as fuck, however. Don’t reinforce the stereotype that we nerds here at Northwestern are also socially incompetent. We all know that you remember taking shots to big booty hoes this weekend, so acknowledge me when I pass you by.
You shouldn’t be pretending to “know” people
Remember that one time you walked up to that frat house, dropped a random Facebook friend’s name, and was promptly told that he was out of the country? Yeah, you’re always going to feel weird about that one. Make real connections and don’t abuse your friendships in order to get drunk.
And if you haven’t learned anything else, you must have learned that applications to write for Sherman Ave are available NOW.
Assholes.
Dear Freshmen,
I love you, but you’re bringing me down. Actually, I don’t, but you totally are. How can one love that which is unlovable unknown to him? I didn’t realize you guys were here yet. I even trolled your Facebook group all summer and STILL didn’t figure out that you would be arriving just abouuutt now. See, I live in this magical, far-off place called “off-campus.” You’ll visit this fantasyland someday. It’s the tits. Well, being off-campus, I failed to witness the warning signs of the invasion of the freshmen army (I’ve been trapped indoors gaming and boozing all day. YOLO). From my ivory tower that’s more like an ugly 70’s era building with a blue façade and crappy windows facing another ugly building, I failed to see the smoke rising above Evanston. I could not have known. Or perhaps I did, and wished to forget. It certainly would explain the day-drinking.
It was not until I journeyed into Evanston proper that I witnessed the extent of the devastation caused by YOU PEOPLE. I expected there to be pillaging and plundering, oh yes. After all, such is the nature of the annual sacking of this super pretentious and poorly designed city. But one can never truly be prepared for such a thing. It’s why I dropped out of Boy Scouts — their false promises of being prepared, and the diddling.
My trip to Chipotle and CVS opened my eyes to the chaos. Traffic on the way there seemed normal, at least, as normal as it can be when the roads are torn up and there are no lanes or sidewalks (seriously, who the fuck does that at the busiest time of the year, and for no apparent reason? Good job, Mayor Tisdahl.)
But within CVS I witnessed a maelstrom hitherto unforeseen. The lines for checkout reached all the way to the frozen pizzas (300% markup from Jewel prices! Convenient!) So many confused people, so many mothers asking, “Do you need this?” “Where are the condoms?” and “Who is Chet Haze?” All totally valid questions, all totally answerable, all totally annoying when all I’m trying to do is grab some Zyrtec and Mountain Dew. It was hell.
And at Chipotle, the worst crime yet. I had to WAIT for my food, for, like, a whole minute, at 2:45 IN THE GODDAMNED AFTERNOON (This is breakfast time for me.) How is there a line at such a time? Why didn’t you get lunch BEFORE you went to CVS?!?! You would’ve bought fewer $6 packages of cookies that way! Or you could’ve gone to TARGET!!! Or to a restaurant unique to Evanston!!! ALL OF OUR BARS ARE RESTAURANTS BY LAW!!!!!!!
I wearily departed downtown Evanston, my soul burdened by what I had seen. “Seriously, why did that one freshman girl buy bubble-gum flavored Trident? That shit tastes like ass.” I asked myself this question, and many others, on the long, treacherous, 30-second bike ride back to my apartment. I recognized my strife to be but the first experience of many to come, in which YOU, freshmen, would make my life slightly more miserable because SCAPEGOATING. Seriously, I can’t even imagine how f’d up campus looks right meow. It’s all the fault of Adam freshmen.
Calm the fuck down.
There is no denying your nature, freshmen. You will ask stupid questions in class. You will travel in large groups, fully knowing it is totally unnecessary and obnoxious. You will go to parties, and throw up in the corner, and then not tell anyone you threw up in the corner because oh God the embarrassment of throwing up in the corner. You will do all these things, and many more, and you will be sorry, but also, totally not sorry, because this is college and everyone before you made the same mistakes and who do you even tell when you throw up in the corner?
And we, dear freshmen, we will weep for you, we will curse you, we will roll our eyes at you and give you the wrong directions when you ask where Pancoe is. Because that is our nature. We, the upperclassmen, who are fundamentally no different than you except we pretend to know more and get away with it sometimes.
And yet, we cherish you, freshmen. You guys make us laugh. You give us stories. You fill us with hope that Northwestern will retain its 12th place ranking for yet another year. For that I thank you. For everything else, I curse you.
Go Cats,
The Commandant
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Prepare to develop a complex love-hate relationship with the color purple.
First of all, I would like to preface this article by stating that all of you incoming freshmen are lucky bastards. Wildcat Welcome Week is easily one of the greatest weeks in college (I see you, Halloweek). It is literally a week of debauchery and a few early morning events that the University believes will deter you from drinking. Wildcat Welcome Week will be your first taste of true college freedom and tons of upperclassmen will be on campus with nothing to do but twirl their thumbs and do their best to corrupt the shit out of you.
Sherman Ave 