After a long and eventful semester that consisted mainly of drinking, sleeping, and avoiding my thesis, this column is coming to an end. We’ve been through a lot together, reader: relationships, substance abuse, unfortunate email exchanges, drama with parents…sometimes even classes. Now that it’s ending, I’d like to take a moment to put snarky advice aside and reflect on the year.

Just kidding. Sarcasm is here to stay.

If you’re a senior like me, you’re probably panicking every five minutes or so about some aspect of your life. Breathe. It’s going to be okay. Ninety percent of the people in our class don’t even know what they’re doing next weekend, let alone next year. And your thesis? It will get done. For all of our sakes, let’s declare a moratorium on freakouts for the next few months; they’re unpleasant, and they’re contagious. No one is going to be homeless on June 8th, 2007 (hint: the job is called summer school proctor).

Everyone else, I don’t know what you’re so relaxed about. You’ve only got a couple more years! Don’t waste another minute! Get up off the couch right now! Study hard, party a lot, get a Netflix membership—do whatever makes you happy. Never again will you have so much free time. Never again will your parents be subsidizing your alcohol purchases. Never again will the dating pool be so young and attractive.

It’s been a semester of ups and downs, and as an amateur advice-giver, I’ve tried to strike a balance between being helpful and being entertaining. Perhaps at times, I’ve been neither, but I’d like to thank everyone (all nine of you) that read my column every week and told me it was hilarious. Where would my ego be without you? Thanks to the readers, and to everyone who wrote in for advice (both genuine and slightly…less so genuine), and to those who were lampooned (ahem) and had the good humor to laugh about it. It’s been real, whatever that means.

See you all at senior bar.



Dear Sara,

I’m having this terrible dilemma. A friend of mine said something truly incriminating at dinner—you know, the sort of brilliant comment that deserves a public forum. Upon returning to my room I went on facebook.com to put it up on his wall for all to see and admire. But it seems he doesn’t have a wall! I hadn’t anticipated such an utter catastrophe, and now I fear his friends will never know that he rubs his chest when he gets excited. Please advise!

—Good Walls Make Good Neighbors



What kind of person doesn’t have a wall? Here’s what you do: buy him a drink, find out his childhood pet’s name (undoubtedly his facebook password), log on to his account, and create one for him.

Problem Solved!

Sara





Dear Sara,

I sent you an email earlier in the week and you mocked my alliteration. That hurt. How can I recover from this blow to my self-esteem?



—Whining Whistfully in Winthrop



Whining, I’m sorry. It has been brought to my attention that sometimes I am not funny. I’m looking into it.

Deeply Apologetic,

Sara





Dear Sara,

It’s my senior year and I’m still not 21. It’s not that getting alcohol is a problem—I just feel so left out. The other night all my blockmates went out to Senior Bar and got hammered. I don’t even know when or where Senior Bars are! This could either be because I am still not 21, or because I’ve yet to hand in my degree application. Either way, this sucks. I’ll make your life easy: where can I get a fake?

—Irkingly Underaged



Underage, it’s simple. Find someone who looks relatively like you who’s over 21, and ask for one of their old IDs. We of the over-21 brethren understand this plight. We will give you our old IDs (sometimes for only a nominal charge). Memorize your sign and your middle name.

Good to go,

Sara



Dear Sara,

Everything I do is wildly awkward. It’s starting to cause problems in my everyday life. Is there any cure?

—Tragic in the Quad



While I hear a vaccine may be in the works, modern medicine has no cure for your timeless ailment, Tragic. The only thing to do is to embrace it. I suggest starting by trying to enjoy watching other people be awkward, then working your way toward enjoying your own awkwardness. Try hanging out in an elevator in William James. Awkwardness, guaranteed.

Good luck,

Sara





Dear Sara,

How do you know if you have a terribly life-threatening food allergy? I went to dim sum with my friends this one time and after I ate one of the two dozen assorted items that was on the table, my throat closed up and my ears started itching. The thing is, I’m not sure whether the food was too hot or whether I am allergic to shellfish. I’m too young to give up crustaceans. There’s still so much I haven’t tried - like scallops, lobster, crab, and shrimp! Am I missing much? Is there some kind of drug I can take for this?

—Psychosomatic about seafood



Psychosomatic, you’re right! Food allergies are nothing to laugh at! I suggest you start carrying an EpiPen and an inhaler, so your friends do have something to laugh about.

Yours in good health,

Sara



Dear Sara,

I have a really hot...actually, this is awkward. Never mind.



—Awkward in Adams



Awkward, your TF would get fired. Find someone your own age.

Love,

Sara