{shortcode-3910a17124e47deb645869e3b5f011c48e1f11e3}

Dear Freshmen,

Let’s get something out of the way first: Harvard is not a party school, despite some well-respected efforts. As much as you hope that dorm party you were invited to will be a rager, or that the CEB-hosted parties will rival those at state schools, trust us when we say it all goes downhill once some couple making out pins you between the wall and a Harvard-issue standing lamp. When you manage to escape (and you eventually will, once your valiant friends respond to that urgent “HELP” text message), it will take you 45 minutes of squeezing through a sea of sweaty people chatting poli-sci before you even reach the “bar” (which is actually just a dresser). We’re not trying to kill your mood, we’re just being honest.

So, here’s a few things to keep in mind when you’re searching for a place to sport your new crop top or Vineyard Vines salmon shorts, (but, Dean Dingman help us, not your lanyards).

In essence, every final club is the exact same arrangement of individuals a little too dressed up for a glorified frat party and music that stopped being good two months ago. Also, you are not special for getting in. If you loiter outside the Spee for 35 minutes, you’ll eventually find a window to sneak in. That is, unless you identify as a male, then good luck kid, it’s not going to happen. Don’t you dare consider skewing the ratio. You can find Citrus-flavor Rubinoff somewhere else.

If you think this dorm party is going to be different, it won’t be, especially if it’s hosted by your freshman entryway’s resident bros. After the 40th person crams themselves into a closet-sized double, the dreaded proc-knock is only moments away. Not to mention, you’ll have to keep running into that kid you made out with on the First Chance Dance floor and you’re not very good at avoiding eye contact. If—no, when—the party inevitably ends at 11 p.m., stop by El Jefe’s to at least end the evening on a positive note.

You will go to the quad for a party, and the round-trip travel time will amount to more than the actual time spent partying. This is a guarantee. Also, the shuttle is an urban legend that cannot be trusted.

Freshman Fall is when you will have the most motivation to go out. As it gets colder, your tolerance gets higher, and classes get harder, your will to party will die a slow, painful death. So, don’t get too frustrated now. Take whatever dubs you can get. Remember, it’s not the parties you go to, but the friends (or mobs of fellow party-thirsty freshmen) you meet along the way.

Godspeed,

Flyby