Dear Gardner and Kate,
I'm sorry I thought I no longer needed your help last week. I guess you guys are a little better than Yahoo answers. That being said, what should I expect from spring term?
Fiona Freshman '16
Gardner: The story of spring term at Dartmouth: I'm going to come back from break less pale and excited to spend every day on the Green or at the river, like I did last spring. Then I'll realize that it's still 60 degrees, the Green is a slushy wasteland and the river has large chunks of ice floating in it. My sleeveless shirts will collect dust in my drawer and I'll think that spring term was just a figment of my imagination. After seven weeks of this, my spring dream will finally come true. Then you'll show up next spring, only remember those three weeks and the cycle repeats.
Kate: While the weather is a major positive of spring term, the best aspect is that winter term is over. Winter term is fast, grim and thankless. Spring term, seniors are done with extracurricular and academic responsibilities. Juniors aren't yet completely jaded. Sophomores are excited for everyone to be back on campus after conflicting D-Plans. Freshmen are happy but unsure why the general mood on campus has lifted, like clueless puppies. Also, get excited for the column to either upgrade to "actually good advice" or devolve into the self-serving drivel of two seniors with no other commitments on campus.
Dear Gardner and Kate,
We've loved reading the column all year. You two are so funny and it's great to get an insight into student life. Keep it up!
Your professors
Gardner: First, thank you and I appreciate it. Second, I'm going to be honest, this makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Knowing that the person who will be reading my final paper this week has also read my advice on both how to deal with roommates having sex and morning after blitzes is incredibly unnerving. If possible, let's try to avoid these conversations in the future. I can keep writing, you can keep reading and maybe you can send me a nice blitz about it the week of graduation.
Kate: It may just be because my professors, unlike Gardner's, never compliment me on the column, but I must say I don't think I'd feel awkward about their appreciation at all. I take compliments on my writing wherever I can get them. This includes the significantly more uncomfortable input of: my parents, people I secretly hate and '17s who are much too young to have their minds poisoned by my bitter musings on Dartmouth culture.
Dear Gardner,
I know you are in the library and appear to be doing work, but would you like a shot?
The Shot Fairies
Gardner: Trust me, if I were in a place where I could throw back a shot right now, I would. I'd be so happy that I'd even buy you one. However, as you astutely observed, I am in the East Asia Room at midnight on a Saturday working on a final paper, so your bottom-shelf vodka narrowly edges out waiting in line for a Novack Hot Pocket as the least appealing thing imaginable right now. Please take your happiness and lack of work elsewhere. However, if you see your friends the cookie fairies, be sure to send them my way. I like them.
Dear Kate,
I found out some really suspect information regarding my friend's girlfriend. Do I have some kind of moral obligation to tell him?
Morally Gray Gina '15
Kate: Welcome to our weekly brush with real advice. Due to the fact that I'm an advice columnist, Sexpert and have a baby-face that says, "Tell me your deepest, darkest secrets," I have served as a sort of sexy priest-confessional for many a friend and drunk girl in Novack bathroom. Combine this with my propensity for eavesdropping and a constant seat in KAF, and I am rich with "suspect information." With great nosiness comes great responsibility, Gina. Spreading false rumors is the worst possible option. The choice for the weak of heart is to keep your mouth shut. The boldest is to go Nancy Drew on this bitch, following rumors to their farthest conclusion through rogue Facebook friendships, openly bartering gossip for DBA and asking egregiously straightforward questions when drunk.
Dear Gardner and Kate,
I'm going on a trip with my family for spring break. How do I convince my friends, and mostly myself, that break will be fun and exciting?
Spring Break Sarah '14
Gardner: I'm sorry if this answer is not my best. I saved this question for last and accidentally self-controlled my laptop so extensively that I cannot access Google Docs on it until two days after this article's deadline. Therefore, I'm writing on a Novack blitz terminal. As I approach graduation and the reality of financial independence sets in, vacations, meals and lodging provided by my family get exponentially more appealing, so enjoy your vacation and feel no need to justify it. I personally cannot wait to tell everyone about my trip to Bourbon Street in New Orleans over break while omitting the fact that my parents and younger sister were also there.
Kate: This is the first spring break that I am not going to see my family, and I can honestly say I'm pretty upset. I realize that not everyone can have a family as awesome as mine, i.e. significantly cooler than I am. However, the fact that you're still convincing yourself and others that your break will be exciting reminds me of how in middle school I would try to hide the fact that my mother was the one blasting "Grillz" in the pick-up line. College is the point we can get some distance from our families, which makes spending time with them a lot more exciting and/or bearable. Go in with an open mind before reverting to the one-Snapchat-per-week communication policy. Even if your family is really unbearable, look at this as a chance to continue your finals-induced nocturnal sleeping schedule and figure out if a family Netflix account was created in your absence.
Send pressing questions in need of moderately good advice to: gardnerandkate@gmail.com
