There’s a boy in my entry who shares my bathroom, and I find him really attractive. What should I do?
Ah, the age-old question. Back in my day, there was a tragically handsome Belgian Blue bull calf on a neighboring pasture, so I understand the appeal. The solution: bathroom rizz. Leave your retainer case out on the counter so he’ll notice your appreciation for orthodontic perfection. Strategizing is key!
My roommate keeps eating all my snacks, even after I asked him not to several times. I tried hiding them, and I don’t know what to do at this point.
Oy vey. Tricky roommates can get you into quite the pickle, huh? I would usually recommend using Sharpie to write your name in all-caps on each snack packet, but your fellow foodie doesn’t seem to respect boundaries. You could tell your JAs, but there’s the risk they’ll jump on the bandwagon and steal your snacks, too. The solution? Make your roommate snack-phobic. I’m talking toothpaste in your Oreos, mayonnaise in your jar of marshmallow fluff, the whole shebang.
My suitemate does it really loud with their boyfriend and it keeps me up at night. Help!
We’ve all been there. I’m sorry, honey. Really, you need to tell your JA/HC about that. Your suitemate’s proclivity for procreation is one thing, but you shouldn’t have to hear it while doing your chem p-set. But I’ve got just the solution: fight fire with fire. Trust me, it always works: moo nice and loud. I know your voice is not as powerful as a 1500-pound terrestrial mammal, so get a megaphone from Amazon and channel a great guttural MOOOOooooo straight into the thin walls separating you from your next-door neighbor. Hell, dial that machine to maximum volume and really go at it. Your suitemates are, after all.
I’m applying to be a tour guide for admissions and a Goodrich barista, though I’m not sure which I’ll get. They’ve both asked me to describe myself in the application, but I keep overthinking. What should I say?
Don’t worry your little hooves; I used to work in college cowmissions. I feel like the Sorting Hat but for resumes. What you need to do is differentiate yourself from others. Nice, hardworking, smart? Pfft, boring! I’m sensing some special adjectives… Ah! “Pleasantly elusive.” Seems to fit you well. Plus, it gives you that anti-hero image. Who could resist?
Dear Ephelia, how do I stop myself from doomscrolling on LinkedIn?
Dear reader, the only solution here is to embrace the idea that you don’t compete, you set the standard. As much as reality is crushing, (remember that time you got rejected from all those a cappella groups that said “It’s okay if you’ve never sung before”?) focus on what you actually care about. Don’t invent a fake club to make your profile look better! You’re young and figuring out how to live and make the world into a greener pasture.
