To my fellow upperclassmen: Do you remember college during those first few days after Mom and Dad dropped you off to start a new life free from that disaster called high school?
It was a rare chance to reshape our image and show that we learned from our social mistakes. But have we accomplished anything since then? Or is history repeating itself, weekend after weekend after weekend?
Some of my friends suffer from the common disorder called HSA - High School Amnesia. They talk about the good old days, the magic of prom night, their simple, mutual breakups and the quarterback passing them love notes in class.
Unless they went to high school on some parallel, endorphin-infused universe, that is not what I remember.
High school as I recall involved an awkward grunge period, making a fool of yourself daily, and a quarterback who would never notice you. Boys seemed to be eating testosterone for breakfast, and the girls made it their life to ruin yours.
During that first week as a first-year, I resolved to be a new person who would not succumb to social pressures, would not fall for the smooth-talking guy and would always be herself.
But somehow, packing for school this year involved a trunk of emotional baggage. It has piled up like those pairs and pairs of jeans I never wear. Thayer Street has turned into a field of landmines that are constantly blowing up in my face.
How bad has it gotten? Let's be more specific. On my first night back at Brown, I hid behind a trash can to avoid some not-so-nice girls.
Various houses on Barnes, Benevolent, Governor and George streets are off-limits because either my "flings" or their friends live there.
And, worst of all, my ex - I will call him Mr. X - and I have partitioned off sections of campus as his and my territory.
I thought I was done with all this in high school, but it seems that the freedom we have been given in college has merely increased our opportunities to screw up. And we are taking full advantage of it.
We aren't adults, I realize. But we could do better, and it should start by realizing what we are: college students.
We have all recently survived high school but are not yet adults. Making mistakes is an integral part of college, but there is no excuse for playing the village idiot every weekend.
You do know something about dating. Think. Hard. The worst track records can prove the most educational.
And so next Friday night, remember that drunk-dialing your Mr. X is not going to make you feel better, that Miss Douney & Bourke can't stop you from going to a party and that you deserve a date, not a "walk home."
About this time every year, the first-years show up on the weekend wearing little Abercrombie tennis skirts and tube tops.
Instead of criticizing their underdeveloped fashion sense, let them remind us of how we were as freshmen, how terrible high school was at times and how college does not have to be the second act.
College is a time to happy, not a time to be hiding behind trash cans.
Lacey Gray '06 is an Old World Archaeology and Art and business economics concentrator.
