On behalf of myself and everyone here at Common Sense, I would like to welcome you to Dartmouth. Freshman year can seem overwhelming and downright scary at times, so here is some advice to help you through your first year of 4, or your first year of 13 if you’re one of those Olympic skiers that occasionally takes classes. With regard to housing, every freshman dorm is really fine, except for the River. The River is in the perfect spot for the zero classes you’ll be taking at Tuck and Thayer during your freshman year and is good for almost nothing else. If you live in the River cluster, you might want to purchase a helicopter. A helicopter might not be a sound investment, per se, but it would sure as hell beat walking everywhere. If you have helicopter money, I say go for it. If you’re curious, helicopter money is similar to the amount of money Mr. Peanut has in his burlap sack, give or take a few dollars.

Moving on. Before you finish your time in Hanover, you need to do the 7. If you’re not familiar with the 7, ask that cool ‘22 whose brother was a ‘16 and sister was an ‘18. He’d be happy to tell you all about the 7 and a bunch of other cool insider facts about Dartmouth. Is he done talking? I didn’t think so. Now is he done? Good. You obviously don’t have to get all 7 done freshman year, but 2 or 3 would be a good start. 4 would be great. If you get all 7 in one year, I think you get a free burrito at Boloco or something. Only if you have the punch card though. If you’re saving yourself for marriage, don’t worry; this isn’t sex, it’s tradition. One more thing; don’t actually do the 7. You can’t have sex in public. Super illegal. You wanna coach your kid’s baseball team? Too bad. 15 years ago you got caught having sex on the green and now you’re a sex offender. You don’t wanna coach your kid’s baseball team? You’re still a sex offender. Yikes. Don’t do the 7. You’re welcome Hanlon.

If I had to name my paragraphs, this one would be called Miscellaneous or Varié, if the titles had to be in French. Since I don’t have to do either of those things, here’s some assorted pieces of advice I wish I had coming into my freshman year. Listen up kids. A flitz is a flirty blitz; an email you can send someone to ask them on a date. Your days of sliding into DM’s are over! You have access to every Dartmouth student’s email and flitzes are widely regarded as much cuter and far less creepy than DM sliding. Shoot your shots and always remember: there is a special place in hell for flitzes that don’t rhyme. If you’re into the whole dating thing, ask someone on a date, have a good time, date for 4 years, get married, and ride off into the sunset on a white stallion (or two white stallions, it’s your wedding day, go nuts!). Be the change you want to see. If you’re not into the whole dating thing, ask someone on a date and then don’t show up. There’s a pretty good chance you’ve discouraged that someone from going on any more dates in the near future. Be the change you want to see. Moving on. Go to class. If you paid $74,000 a year for a toy train, you’d probably play with the toy train, right? Now, what I’m about to say is controversial, but I’ll say it anyway; upstairs Foco is a good place to eat. Pull your jaw back up from off the ground and hear me out. Upstairs Foco is nice, clean, and comfortable. If someone sees you in upstairs Foco and calls you uncool, remind them that they are also in upstairs Foco and that the joke is on them. On the topic of dining, remember that eating alone is fine. Eating in dark side Foco with 10 people is no more noble than eating a hot pocket alone in Novack. There will be time to do both, just you wait. Every meal you eat does not have to be a demonstration of how many friends you have. Sometimes you can just eat.

I’m afraid that’s all the time I have for my inaugural issue. If you have any questions, shoot me a blitz at thomas.paine@dartmouth.edu. Getting a blitz from somebody other than Sustainable Dartmouth or VOX Daily might be a nice change of pace. Who knows, maybe one of your questions will be the motivation for my next letter. That is, of course, assuming that you guys don’t crash a helicopter. If that happens, I could see myself getting in some trouble.

THOMAS: “But I didn’t do anything Mr. President!”

HANLON: “Well you did tell them to buy a heli-”

THOMAS: “You got me there. I’ll be on my way.”

Stay safe and don’t get me expelled.

Your loyal friend,

Thomas