Reporter should probably know when to keep things to himself

This is my first time writing for the humor section, and I’ve decided to use this opportunity as a safe space to get some things off my chest. As senior year rolls on I continue to embarrass myself on a weekly basis. Like most of you, my list of embarrassing moments began with a freshman year Mug night, but no one wants to hear about that girl/guy from middle school’s Mug night or lost V-cards. No, we crave the type of stuff only whispered about in Noyes basement and subterranean womp-womp tunnels. The type of confessions that would make Roman abandon caps lock, and send whoever writes the Midnight Question into an existential crisis. So, without further ado here are a few of my darkest secrets.

1. Throughout my time at Vassar I have been an outspoken adversary of Twitter despite using hashtags in all of my texts and Facebook messages. One night I finally caved. I created a Twitter and shook with anticipation for my first career Tweet. At 3:07 a.m. on Saturday morning, I wrote “Joseph-Gordon-Levitt is unbelievably charismatic, #mancrush.” I deleted my Twitter three minutes later and never told anybody.

2. My parents have been Like-a-Littled more times than I have (1 to 0 for anyone keeping score at home). And to answer your question, yes my dad has a mustache that defies both time and space.

3. I have definitely spent more time sending Snapchats than writing my thesis. #SorryProfessorAntelyes #JustGotASmartPhone

4. One Friday night sophomore year I was feeling particularly joyous and I decided to purchase a Chipwhich from the vending machine in the Jewett basement. In my exuberant state I bought five and proceeded to hide them in obscure places around the quad. That night, while lying in bed, I shed a single tear imaging the joy of the strangers who would find them the next day.

5. I have never been on a date in my life that was not at Thai Spice. Sorry for partying.

6. Throughout my career at Vassar I have been telling fellow students that seniors throw secret parties at the Kiosk every Saturday night. I became so enveloped in the idea that I began telling even my closest friends I was at the Kiosk when they texted me on Saturday nights.

7. Freshman year I was hanging out in Jewett with a friend when we decided to head to the Deece. At the last moment I checked my e-mail and saw something with the subject line “Free Pizza Lathrop Parlor 7 p.m.” It was already about 7:15 so my friend and I rushed over to Lathrop, burst in the door yelling “PIZZA PARTY!” and ran directly into Cappy engaged in conversation with about twenty students. We stayed for the next hour in silence and shame. Utter, utter shame.

8. I didn’t access my Moodle page until November of freshman year because I somehow had it in my head that Moodle was a blog for this new thing called dub step.

9. I still have no idea what block my TH is in. When people ask me I just say B block and act condescending.

10. I’ve been to the gym to lift three times in my three plus years at Vassar. Each time I just end up showing up and gazing in admiration at how many people are more athletic and motivated than I am.

11. One year I had an Econ class in the basement of Blodgett Hall. On some unfortunate Monday morning I went to the bathroom and got lost for 35 minutes. When my professor asked me where I went I said I was on the phone with my parents and that there was a family emergency.

12. I miss the Deece.

13. I was eating at the Retreat one day when I heard rumors that Meryl Streep had blessed the fine dining establishment with her presence. Apparently she was sitting right behind me, but I never saw her because I was too invested in a How I Met Your Mother episode. I missed the opportunity to meet one of the most decorated actresses of our time to find out whether Ted kissed Robin. This is my life.

14. I promised myself I would write this column without a Meryl Streep joke.

Wow, that felt good. Now comes the tough part. Will I wake up tomorrow with no friends? Will a passing freshman take pity on me and give me a shout out on Like-a-Little? Is it possible that seniors actually throw kiosk parties, but I have never been invited? In one sentence can my fingers hit enough keys to make enough words to give me eight hundred in total so that Lily isn’t mad at me?

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