“Wise Wasian Women Give You Life Advice” is a biweekly column by Irene Kim and Josephine Buruma, where they review—and advise on—the many troubles of first-year life. Read to reminisce, commiserate, and seek enlightenment. Reach out to them with your issues, qualms, and general maladies at irene.kim.irk24@yale.edu and josephine.buruma@yale.edu!
Eyecontactships . . .
I’m engaged in an intimate eyecontactship with a guy in my English 1020 class. We’ve never spoken, but when we look at each other, it feels like we were lovers in a past life (Celine Song, anyone?). I think it’s even starting to affect my performance in the class; I sometimes get so lost in his gaze that I forget to participate in the group discussion. How to transform flirtatious games of eye tag into something real?
We feel you—eyes are the windows to the soul, after all! Our advice: bare yours. Your soul, we mean. Really dig deep in your next essay and volunteer to workshop. Hopefully he’ll be so inspired by your prose that he’ll be scrambling to talk to you about it after class. Secure that date, and get those participation points! Two birds, meet one stone.
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Missing the Ex . . .
I know everyone says that you’re supposed to leave all remnants of your high-school self behind once you start college. But I have spent one semester at this institution—one that my Instagram Reels never fails to remind me is ranked fourth in the nation for long-lasting undergraduate couplings—and I’m beginning to think my future husband isn’t lurking anywhere on this campus, but a thousand miles away. What to do?
Nothing in life is linear—especially the path you travel away from your high school ex. The antidote? Keep going back until you don’t want to! It’s just that simple.
Who knows, maybe the love of your life truly is the person you met hitting the vape in the handicap stall during seventh period. We personally doubt it, but will you ever really know if you don’t return? Run it back, and don’t believe what the internet—or all of your concerned friends—may say!*
* We claim no responsibility for the consequences of this advice.
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On the Ethics of FroCo-Groupcest . . .
I know that your FroCo group is supposed to be the functional family that eases your transition into Yale, and that romantic relations in such a domestic setting are probably a bad idea. Still, I can’t help but feel some type of way for one of its members when I sit down for my hungover post-Leo Sunday family brunch in the dining hall each week. What should I do? Is keeping it in the family a first-year sin?
This pickle is only as big as you make it! Let us ease your mind with a reminder that freshman fall is long behind us. The seasons are a-changin’. The ice on the ground is dissolving, and so, for better or worse, are your FroCo ties! If you’re gonna let a little thing like mild familial implications hold you back from locking it down, do you even really like him that much?
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Post-coital Bruising . . .
I’m not going to apologize: I like to get down. But these twin XLs are restrictive… Every night of first-year fun inevitably results in a morning-after physical where I realize my midsection is patterned with bruises I don’t necessarily remember getting. It’s getting serious: I’ve had to call my grandmother and ask for the stretch routine I remember her doing after her hip replacement surgery. Help! At this rate, I’m worried a tendon will rip. Do we move it to the floor?
Unfortunately, there’s no facilities request that will repair the sex-negative sizing of the dorm beds. Instead, we suggest embracing this hardship—turn it into an opportunity for self-improvement . . . surely, you and your partner’s flexibility could be enhanced by some yoga! Ever heard of pilates? Barre? Dare we say a split routine? And, sadly, if a twin-XL-induced stretch routine doesn’t appeal, there may be no other option than looking forward to the day of off-campus living. A queen bed (and kink-free neck) is in your future!
Irene Kim
