Hey Princeton! The prefrosh activities fair was hoppin’ on Friday afternoon. It was a sea of orange lanyards, Princeton drawstring backpacks (why didn’t we get those last year??), and, of course, the overwhelmed prefrosh. Oh, and a bunch of crazy people yelling at the prefrosh to join their club/activity/sports team/[insert group here].
Here are some DOs and DON’Ts, for both prefrosh from this past Preview weekend and those coming next weekend:
DO: Sign up for a lot of clubs you’re interested in.
DON’T: Sign up for every single club because you’ll regret the 5,000 emails later on (although you can always unsubscribe).
DO: Ask club members questions to find out more information about the club.
DON’T: Be overwhelmed when all the older students attack you so that you join their club. It’s Tiger love.
DO: Keep an open mind. Always wanted to learn about hypnosis? Sign up for the Princeton Hypnosis Club (yes, this club really does exist).
DON’T: Belittle your abilities. If you like to sing but only your shower head recognizes your talent, please don’t be afraid to try out for an a cappella groups anyways.
DO: Stay on a club’s email listserv for a bit, even if you decide not to join that club. It’s always interesting to know what other clubs are up to, and you may change your mind about not joining.
DON’T: Be that kid who hits “Reply-All” saying, “Please remove me from the list.” Don’t do it.
DO: Sign up for the University Press Club.
DON’T: Not sign up for the University Press Club.
With its gothic architecture and stately dining hall, Mathey (prounced ‘Maddie’) looks just like Hogwarts. That, and the fact that it boasts Blair Arch, the largest arch on campus and home to regular a capella concerts, means that Mathey is the most featured dorm in Princeton brochures. Mathey-ites also brag about their location right next to Nassau Street, Princeton-town’s main thoroughfare, lined with ritzy clothing stores and restaurants.
Most would argue that Forbes is at once the most hated and most beloved of the residential colleges. Depending on who you talk to, Forbes is either that sad, cinder-blocked building in a distant zip code or, alternatively, the best thing that ever happened to them. For every mainland critic who argues that Forbes is socially removed from the main-campus scene, there are steadfast Forbesians who contend that their residential remoteness actually forges a more “close-knit community.” After two years of living in the 08540, it’s become clear to me that, polarized views aside, Forbes is what you make of it. Here are the facts—we’ll let you be the final judge.