“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 second-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!
Class of 2030—we know this is the first-year advice issue, but we think you’ve been given plenty of real estate in this week’s Herald. Move over; it’s time for the jaded sophomoric woes to be heard!
Who goes there? Since my return to New Haven, I’ve realized my memory is not as strong as it was a mere year ago. I feel beleaguered by the hordes of smiling, waving bodies whose faces I vaguely recognize but whose names, throughout the summer, have escaped me entirely. How do I discreetly recover the memories of these friendships past without committing a grave social faux pas?
We don’t doubt the seriousness of your problem, though dementia we think it may not be. Perhaps we should reconsider this issue of forgetfulness as an opportunity for reinvention. As the old adage goes: fortune favors the bold. Call these semi-strangers by the names you think they ought to have. If they’re really your friends, they’ll assume you’re joking—acquaintances are for the meek, after all. Go forth, o confused one, and christen…
I guess Thaler and Susstein were right ( #nudgetheory)… As I’ve switched from Full to Flex and renounced my unfettered access to the dining hall, I’ve entered a dire meal-swipe-scarcity mindset. Every time I swipe into a meal, I fear that I’m locking myself out from food for the remainder of the week. I doubt my 600-point budget can accommodate this daily Elm trip–how to go to the dining hall fear-free?
To be free, you must first escape the prison of your own thoughts. We do not dismiss the impact of this phenomenon, though we may question its actual grounding in reality. Culinary anxieties aside, we suggest that you confront this problem head-on by simply heading to the dining hall and chowing down. And, if anything, this may be a fruitful illustration that those fake economic theories of choice do actually matter.
Fabio, how I miss you… Call it my Roman Holiday: this summer, the great love of my life was delivered unto me by the six-story techno club I frequented with my Italian study abroad group. Though I was ready to lay my heart on the line, he—hindered by the heavy responsibilities of inheriting his father’s cobbling enterprise—was not. Alas, I’m unmoored at Yale among a sea of unwelcome peacoats and unflattering Adidas track pants. How to overcome this transatlantic heartbreak? I can barely even bring myself to wear the leather sandals his dad made me.
We truly sympathize. What agony it must be to be trapped in a lecture hall when you could be on the back of a Vespa, clinging on to your olive-skinned whirlwind romance. Nonetheless, it seems his family shoe business isn’t going anywhere, and sadly neither are you. But… you can change that. Wake up and strap on those sandals! Ride that chariot all the way back to Rome, because this campus likely holds nothing for you unless you’re in the market for a DKE brother. When one is lucky enough to meet a Fabio, one must hold on for dear life… and we’re not talking about the Vespa anymore.
The memories unleashed… After my nine months served in L-Dub last year, my body shudders at the faintest thought of stepping foot on Old Campus. I still get phantom pains from the countless times I banged my head on the ceiling from my top bunk. The issue is, my Applied Quantitative Analysis lecture is in LC, and right now I can barely make it past Phelps Gate. How to move past these old ghosts and fulfill my major requirements?
We too lament the inability to walk through Old Campus unencumbered by the Ghost of First-Year Past. We are tempted to suggest… not going back! We validate this fear and are here to tell you it is more than justified: in fact, it would be strange for a non-first-year to want to step within five feet of OC’s perimeter. But it seems circumstances have made this difficult for you. We encourage you to have faith in the newfound air of wisdom and maturity that distinguishes you from those unlucky shrimps who now occupy our past residence. Chin up, you courageous soul, and have confidence, if only because you are one year braver!
Irene Kim