Dishing It Out with Dustin

First Year Experiences: The Good, the Bad and the Bloody



Dustin Booska-Moulton, Columnist

Hello Freshman,

I bet you’re so eager for the weekend to hang out with your new friends and bond with every last person on your floor and even in your residence hall. You’re probably fairly fresh from orientation, which is more like an extended version of the happiest scene in Glee. All of the Orientation Leaders have more energy than one can fathom and everyone is so happy to meet each other. All of this kind of spills over into your first year. It’s a lot like that episode of Orange Is The New Black in Season 2 when everyone is moved into one area and Soso starts a huge singing party. I mean, it’s just so freaking awesome!

Then as the semester continues, people start to try a little less, but it’s okay because everyone is on the same page. Remember Becki from across the hall? Now she’s crawling to the 8 am lecture like Osha from Game of Thrones, before the Starks took her in as a servant. Heaven forbid the soccer guys open their door and let the smell of sweaty ball sack/ rank ass feet waft out. Then one passes you and he will smell of one of the following: clean with a light spray of cologne, a walking Hollister store, B.O. doused with cologne, or just plain B.O.

Speaking of heinous odors, the community bathrooms are beacons for all things vile.

During my first year, I saw numerous rendezvous, clogged or overflowing toilets, flooded shower drains, sinks literally torn off the walls, and inches upon inches of hair pulled out of the drain that looked like freaking Chewbacca. I was waiting for the call of the Wookiee. On my floor alone, it was like all of the protein shakes the hockey boys drank would make their bowels go into overdrive. Then they would feel the need to use an excessive amount of toilet paper, which would always result in clogged toilets and a community charge. Not to mention the lingering odor of a toilet full of poop. It was like being back at home in Vermont after the farmers spread manure. My friends who used the ladies room would tell me the horror stories of using a stall after someone changed their tampon. I actually found these to be the funniest. Perhaps it was because of my lack of understanding of how a tampon went in and came out or it was because I didn’t have to deal with it. They would tell me there would be blood splattered along the walls of the stall. I, of course, immediately thought of Dexter. The only conclusion they could come to because I clearly didn’t have any expertise on feminine hygiene, was that the woman pulled her tampon out, it swung like a pendulum and sprayed blood from the end of it. Then she just decided not to clean it up.

While there can be people skipping up and down your hall belting out some chipper tune,or your peers can morph into creatures you’ve never seen in your worst nightmares, your first year truly is a remarkable experience. It is not indicative of the next four years at all. Every year has been completely different for me and everyone I know. One of the best thing about my first year, were all of the mistakes I made. I learned. You will, too. You’ll learn and you’ll laugh. A lot. Embrace every moment.