Dear Diary: An '18's First Winter Carnival
The commentary below is entirely fictional and does not represent the true diary entries of an anonymous member of the Class of 2018.
Avid readers of the Dear Diary series can catch our first installmenthere.
2/6/15:
Dear Diary,
It’s me again – still bitterly cold, still unable to walk outside anywhere without my snow pants, but doing pretty well overall! Now that my pesky midterms are over (ugh, really wish Bio had gone better) I can’t wait to tell you all about the weekend my floor mates have been chatting about nonstop over the last few days: the beloved, esteemed, infamous Winter Carnival.
Next thing I knew, I was standing outside at Occom Pond in my sports bra and shorts and questioning the meaning of life. George was nowhere to be found, and I figured I should have known any activity involving a drilled hole in thick ice wouldn’t be great. As a rope was wrapped around my waist to make sure I wouldn’t drown, I said a small prayer and squeezed my eyes shut. When it was finally time to jump, I almost couldn’t do it. But I thought of the Instagram photos I would gain and then leapt. For a moment, I felt more alive than I had ever felt in my life. Then, all I felt was cold.
After spending the rest of my day in bed — with roughly forty-seven blankets covering me, if I had to estimate —I decided to brave Dartmouth’s picturesque campus to admire an ice-sculpture my friends were working on for some contest. It looked great, even though they complained that the contest was rigged, and after grabbing some hot chocolate from Collis we all made it out to check out the big snow sculpture up close, which was admittedly pretty cool. I had never seen anything like that in California. My spirits were restored.
Now I am all decked out in a swimsuit, headed to what my friends say is a legendary party involving a beach. Do you think the sand will remind me of home, Diary? I’ll let you know tomorrow!
Love,
An ’18 from LA
2/7/15:
Dear Diary,
Too many things to say right now. I guess I’ll start with last night…
My friends brought me to the “beach” party before the band have even started playing, since they said there had been long lines at a “punk” party the night before. We spent about an hour awkwardly standing around —and debating whether to head to LNC early and then come back —before the music finally came on. That was great, but then things went south. As I stepped away from the mass of people dancing, I bumped into a stumbling guy, and before I knew it, he had thrown up all over me!!! As I stared into his unfocused eyes, too livid and disgusted to move, he muttered “Big Weekends, right?” and then turned to find a bathroom. But that’s not the worst part, Diary! As I moved into the light, trying to find a place to change, I got a good look at him. It was George! Well Diary, that crush is sure over. Livid, I braved the cold and headed back to my dorm room, where I showered off the grime and then went to bed.
I woke up this morning to several missed texts from my friends, who had made me promise the night before to compete in the human dogsled race with them. Quickly pulling on my tutu, some stripped leggings and a pair of Cat in the Hat earmuffs, I ignored a text from George the Abercrombie guy.
The dogsled race was fun for the first two minutes I was there, but then the inescapable cold set in. As the smallest one in my friend group, I was also designated to be the one on the sled. Fine with me, I thought to myself. What can go wrong if I’m stationary?
Once again, I was horrifyingly wrong. About two seconds after my friends began pulling me, as my face was sprayed unpleasantly with ice and snow, I did a mid-air back flip and landed face-first in the snow. Dragged back onto the sled by my hyper-competitive friends, I held on for dear life as melted snow obscured my vision and my face felt dangerously close to frostbite. Once the race was over my friends half-picked me up so we could go take a picture at the snow sculpture. We hadn’t won.
Well, that’s about it for today. I’m headed out again this evening — I’ll let you know if tonight is any better!
Love,
An ’18 from LA
2/8/15:
Dear Diary,
Well, it’s 8 PM on Sunday and I am still too hungover to function. Just getting to FoCo this morning felt like a struggle, but at least my friends were all in the same spot and supported me. After a full FoCo breakfast —complete with lemonade, which the internet told me was the best hangover cure available —I trudged back to my room to finally tackle the chores I had neglected all weekend. To be honest, it was quite soothing to be putting my room back in order, until I took a quick glance at Canvas and realized I had a ten-page paper and a problem set due on Monday!
Rushing into the library, I saw that it was as packed as I had ever seen it. Walking from floor to floor trying to find a seat, I noticed that everyone was wearing the same exhausted expression as me. Diary, if their work is anything like mine, there are going to be a lot of bad essays turned in tomorrow.
Maybe work isn’t going well, but Diary, I do have some great news for you! As I headed down from 4FB to KAF this afternoon to get my 20th cup of coffee, I ran into George the Abercrombie model! I gave him a glare to let him know I hadn’t forgiven him, but before I could blurt out how angry I was, he apologized profusely and asked me out on a Valentine’s Day date! Diary, I wanted to stay angry, but I found myself saying yes! He really is smart —he already has two citations –and did I mention he’s a model?
All in all, there have been some ups and downs. But I think Winter Carnival turned out ok after all!
TTYL, Diary. I’m heading back to this essay.
Love,
An ’18 from LA