Feel free to do this out of spite.

That’s right. Paper. How is this possible, you may ask? Well I’ll tell ya, back in the day, paper was everywhere. In your printer trays, your newspapers, your course guides. Today? Not so much.

When I was a freshman at this fine institution, there was so much paper that we didn’t know what to do with it all. Some days I’d just see people wearing it around all over their bodies, just for the hell of it. Silly? Sure, but we were young and stupid.

These days, those displays of youthful innocence and exuberance are gone. We’re taught to treat each piece of paper like it’s literally part of a tree and the “environment.” That’s all well and good. I like the environment. I live in one. It provides me oxygen and other useful things like that.

But this paper deal? It’s a problem. The University has decided to limit each student’s printing capabilities (capped, I believe, at 2,100 sheets per year). While the limit may seem rather high, just think of the seniors (like me). Theses! Transcripts! Résumés! It all adds up.

Moreover, I’d prefer to enjoy the notion that my learning capabilities will never be restricted by printing limits. Ever try to read more than 50 pages of an e-reserve on your laptop? If so, you’re probably not reading this right now because your corneas have been burned out of your skull.

There’s also something nice about printing something out, and really attacking it with a pen and a highlighter. Underlining, taking notes. It’s perversely satisfying. Also, studies that I’ve just made up in my head indicate that a student absorbs material 87% better when reading on paper than on a screen. Isn’t that 87% something worth valuing?

The other main paper gripe really grinding my gears these days? Course guides. If you’re a freshman, you’re probably asking yourself, “What’s a course guide?” Good question, Timmy, Course guides are these wonderfully useful booklets that contain all the essential information about every class being offered next semester. Professor, requirements, meeting times. The whole nine yards. Sound’s lovely, doesn’t it?

Well, sh**, son. Should’ve been born four years earlier. It was almost like it was too convenient, too student-friendly. After all, why present information to students in an easy-to-read, easy-to-digest manner when you can make them jump through the hoops that dozens of checkable boxes provide?

Also, there was nothing quite like the excitement that you’d feel twice a semester when you’d open your mailbox, and there it would be — a brand new course guide, all for you! It was like the semi-annual Christmas for nerds (that’s all of us, by the way).

Now? No paper and no Nerd Christmas. Oh, my sweet, sweet paper. I thought we had something special. Now all Princeton lets me do is wipe my ass with you. I’m sorry. You deserve better. We all do.

(image source: thedailygreen.com)

3. Poor Seating Options (Biggest Offender: Whitman)

Probably shouldn’t have left this one off the initial entry, since this is the most egregious dining hall oversight on campus. Whitman — possibly the most popular dining hall on campus (at least over the last couple years) — has the most limited seating of all the residential colleges. A few booths, a bunch of round and square tables of various lengths. Tons of open space, just begging to be filled with larger tables and more chairs. Instead, it’s filled with hungry students looking for those things. I know, ridiculous, right? How is this possible, you might ask. I don’t know. All I know is that unless I feel like playing musical chairs before eating, I don’t go to Whitman.

4. Trayless Dining (Biggest Offender: Wu/Wilcox?)

I’ll admit right from the beginning that this is pure rumor, because since I heard it, I’ve avoided the locations listed above like the plague, but I hear that these dining halls have… No. More. Trays. Ouch, it’s actually painful to type. I don’t know about you, but when I look back on my dining hall days, some of my finest memories are of piling my tray high with so much food and drink that I could feed a small army for a week. It was glorious. The best part was that once I got my food, I wouldn’t have to get up again. Possibly ever. And by “ever,” I mean for ninety minutes.

See, dining hall serveries tend to get very crowded. They aren’t the kind of place I want to spend a lot of time. I just want to get my food and eat it. And with trays, I can maximize my eating efficiency. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s why trays were created. We are literally spitting in the face of Mr. Tray-Maker. I’m ashamed for all of us. You should be too.

5. No Food for Saturday Dinners (ONLY Offender: Forbes)

It’s below freezing out. You’re sick. You’re tired. You’re busy. You’re hungry. You live a million miles from everyone else on campus and their conveniently located dining halls. You just want to eat food in your delicious Forbes dining hall. Last year? Two years ago? Three years ago? Cool.

Now? No one gives a sh**. Move your lazy ass to a dining hall or pay up at the ‘Wa. Shameful.

I may not eat in the dining halls as much as I once did, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed some of the big changes that have taken place since I was a freshman.

Here are a few “improvements” that have taken place in the last few years…

1. Healthier Food (Biggest Offender: Whitman)
Maybe I’m way off base here, but I thought the point of being in college was being able to clog my arteries for four years without any repercussions. Back in the day, I could have sworn that there were at least two fried options every night, in every dining hall. Delicious. I could have fried chicken, with a side of French Fries, and a fat-full bowl of ice cream. I wouldn’t need to eat again for at least another hour or two.

These days, though, fried food is frowned up. Apparently it’s “bad for you,” or some such nonsense. If it were so bad for me, then why does it taste so incredible? You really just can’t get the same sort of satisfaction out of a tofu steak or a wheatgrass burger. Don’t even get me started on the salad bar.

2. No Breaded Chicken Cutlets (Biggest Offender: Forbes)
Freshman year, this was all I ate. Every day, probably twice a day. You top this bad boy with some cheese, maybe even double-stack it? Like an orgasm in your mouth. (That came out funny, never mind). Let’s just say it can make you believe in a food God. So you can only imagine my reaction when I returned for sophomore year and the deep fryer had been removed from the Forbes Grill.  Actually, you don’t have to imagine. Someone was on hand to videotape it (ignore the intro).

As you can see, I was not thrilled. Now I venture far and wide to find Dining Halls that can satisfy my breaded chicken cutlet urges. They are frequent. In fact, I’m going to get one right now. Part Two coming next week…

This guy? He's not here. He won't help you.

When you’re young, being sick is awesome. About 90% of the time you’re only kind of sick. Only mostly sick. You’re sick enough that all you can do for the entire day is sit around, watch TV and drink soup.  On occasion, there’s that rare 10% where you’re actually in some sort of real pain, which sucks. But most of the time? Awesome.

Back in elementary school, you run a little fever, have a bad sore throat, or spend the night vomiting, you’ve got yourself an automatic Get-Out-of-School-Free card. Congratulations. Everyone feels bad for you, your mom waits on you rather than nagging you to clean your room, and you don’t have to do ANYTHING. Ah yes, those were the days.

Now? Not so much.

You get sick now, there’s no sympathy. Not from friends, family or teachers. You get sick at my age and you’re just a nuisance — a leper, even. People don’t want to hang out with you, they don’t want to see you. Why? Because they know that if they’re in close proximity to you, they could get sick and they’ll have to endure the same treatment that they’ve been giving you.

And that treatment — it’s no fun. You can still sit around all day, you can still watch TV, and you can still drink soup. So what’s the difference, you may ask. Difference is, when you’re young, missing things doesn’t mean shit. You have no real responsibilities. Miss a week of school? Who cares? All you were going to do was read a couple books, do some more multiplication tables and push Sally off the swing set. That shit isn’t going anywhere.

These days, we have responsibilities. Most of the time, responsibilities aren’t so terrible, because they’re accompanied by things called “privileges,” which we usually take for granted. Things like drinking, and girls, and cars, and staying up as late as we want. But along with all those good things, there’s also grades that mean something, theses to write, and job applications to complete. And guess what? When you’re sick, people still expect you to fulfill those responsibilities. It’s ridiculous.

So while all you want to do may be to sit around, watch TV and drink soup, you must — in your weakened state — keep up with the responsibilities of daily life. Unless you’re dying, nobody cares that you’re sick. Suck it up, son.

That’s the other thing. When you get sick at my age, it’s always an actual sickness. Nobody really fakes it anymore because it means you can’t go out and enjoy all those privileges that we’ve waited years to obtain. So not only are you really sick, but the world has the nerve to keep rotating on its axis. Fuck you, world.

This year, on Princeton’s campus, things are even worse. Why? The Swine. It’s a disease that’s gripping the nation like “So You Think You Can Dance?” except with fewer celebrities in funny outfits.

Back in the day, when you got sick, you could go to McCosh Health Center and be treated for your illness. Now? Self-diagnose, self-isolate is the official policy. If you go into McCosh, they will yell at you. And it’ll be all your fault. Stay in your dingy dorm room, you selfish miscreant. And you get no Tamiflu. None.

So not only do you end up sick, but now your only source of medical assistance comes from WebMd and a friend who’ll go to CVS for you. (This may actually be a plus for the roughly 85% of students on campus who consider themselves burgeoning versions of Dr. House.) On the upside, the new doctrine has rendered McCosh the nation’s first university-run alcohol rehabilitation center. So we’ve got that going for us, which is nice.

Still, none of this changes the fact being sick just ain’t what it used to be. Stay healthy, my friends.

P.S. Yes, I was sick during the writing of this post. And I still had to write it. See what I mean about responsibilities? Sucks.

On the other hand, it sounded kind of cute. All you had to do — from what I was told — was show up to the office of your choice a couple months after graduating, present your Princeton diploma, and voila, instant job (six-figure salary to be determined)! Sure, it wasn’t going to be college, but it didn’t seem all bad.

Now? We’re all fucked.

What nobody bothers to tell you is that senior year isn’t all about having fun, spending time with your friends, or even toiling away at your thesis. No. Instead, senior year is all about the year after senior year. For most people, that means a job. More importantly, it means finding a job.

This didn’t used to be all that difficult. You’d go into the basement of one of the 19 Career Services buildings on campus, spin the Wheel of Fortune™ wheel, and land on Bain, Lehman Brothers, McKinsey, or Barclays. You’d make a mental note, put your boat shoes back on, and head out into the abundant sunshine to enjoy the rest of senior year.

Sounds great, right? Well sorry, Mr. John Q. Senior, times done changed. Now when you get on campus, you’re not supposed to enjoy freshman week (I know, the inhumanity of it all). Instead, you’re supposed to be working on applications, cover letters, and interview preparedness (whatever that means). And it’s a lot harder to do all of that if you plan on spending the first few weeks of school in the same drunken state that you spent them for the previous three years.

I have one friend who said, as of last night, he’d written 40 cover letters. 40. I didn’t even know what to say to that. I can’t even name 40 companies that haven’t gone bankrupt in the last year (although you can probably name 40 that have).

To make matters worse, all of these companies are barely even hiring. The days of prospective employers fighting over you are finished. Now you have to fight your friends to get to them.

When we were freshmen, it was all living in the moment — meeting new people, trying new activities, enjoying new experiences — but now it’s all about looking forward, beyond the present time. Of course, to a certain extent, this has always been the case for seniors, but the discrepancy is even more dramatic now than it was three years ago. And it sucks.

What does this mean for you, Ms. Jean Q. Young-Person? I’ll let 20th century philosopher Billy Madison explain: “Stay here. Stay as long as you can. For the love of God, cherish it.”

Because jobs really suck. Especially now.