Asking for a friend: Two of my best friends just started dating, and nobody has seen them since they became official. What should we do?

This is a tricky one. As much as you may want to put an end to their disturbing cohabitation, you must let it run its course. The honeymoon phase is ephemeral enough. But that doesn’t mean you forgo the responsibilities of a good friend: Get some proof of life, ask when they last did their laundry (especially sheets), and for the love of God, get them away from each other for one meal. The last one of these is the hardest, especially since you know both parties. I’d recommend a divide-and-conquer approach: On an auspicious day (Wednesdays usually have the right vibe for this kind of thing), you and another friend must text the relevant parties, clamoring about advice-necessitating emergencies, and call for requisite impromptu dinners. Make sure the emergency is complex enough, but once the Driscoll peach cocktail has run dry, get to the point: the unholy shack-up. No need to be judgy; just recommend they consider whether turtlenecks and hoodies will be in this summer. 

Love me a darty but can’t pretend to like borgs anymore. What’s the move for the rest of spring?

What you need, in my humble opinion, is a break from all things you. It’s great that you love to make the best of a sunny Saturday morning, but is crawling your way up Hoxsey towards Wachenheim after totalling that Poland Spring gallon really the move? The sun is shining in the quad (“nature is man’s inorganic body,” or whatever Marx said). Take advantage of the one livable season we have by going for a hike, swimming in the Green River at Linear Park, or being one of those people who sits on Chapin steps so everyone can see what a diligent, sunkissed student they are. Lay off the day drinking, and if you can’t enjoy the great outdoors elsewise, hit Sawyer — finals are on deck. 

I’m quietly excited about pre-registration, but none of my friends seem to be. How can I get them to take classes with me?

To be completely honest, I feel like you might have read the wrong version of the course catalog. But regardless of your preferences, the best way to get your friends going is a classic scare tactic. It’s not about getting them to classes with you — it’s about convincing  them they can’t take any others. COMP 111? Uh yeah, those books are different. Congrats? CSCI 136? Don’t you remember having to use that Pass/Fail last spring? ENGL anything? You know what, get that unemployment certificate. 

After spring break, everyone in my friend group paired off into situationships, but I’m still solidly single. How am I supposed to stay sane?

This is a real phenomenon. After months of the oppressive weight of New England winter, people go feral at the first opportunity. What you have to remember is that this exact same thing happened last year, and, despite that, we’re back at it again. It’s almost analogous to Rainbow-Loom making that weird comeback in your early teenage years: Everyone wants a piece of what they’ve been missing since they were last happy. That said, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. If anything, it’s the balanced outlook. Like Rainbow Loom, a situationship is weirdly expensive and only really begets a temporary accessory — trust me, I had a Rainbow Loom for five years. Hold your ground and watch the world spin around you: Come reading period, you’ll be seen as the very pillar of sanity as the friend group turns to you for a meal and some advice. When that happens, the answer is always the same: Move on. They’re going abroad in the fall.

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