DoolinoIt has been just two weeks since spring break, and like the cockroaches in the Dobbs University Center (DUC), the student body’s feelings of hopelessness and depression still live on without any signs of going away. With midterms fired at a faster rate than Goldman Sachs employees and paper due dates as ubiquitous as pseudo-political analysts on Facebook, the people of Emory are rightfully under a lot of pressure.

Dear Doolino,

I got screwed by housing. My time was supposed to be March 15 at 6 p.m., so here I was thinking that I could at least get Harris Hall if Few Hall or Evans Hall is out. Yeah, that didn’t happen. Not only were all the Harris rooms gone, but the only room that was available was a double on the sixth floor of the Woodruff Residential Center (WoodREC). Two words: kill me. The WoodREC Cafe is awful, the sixth floor is going to be horrible on move-in day and all of my friends are in Evans. What do I do to make this situation even remotely bearable?


Sincerely,

WoodREC’d

Dear WoodREC’d,

It must be hard for you to “de-Turman” what to do in this “Complex” situation. You must be thinking “what do I ‘Evan’ do now?” If it “Means” anything to you, I have a “Few” solutions that I “Wood” like to “Point” out.

Firstly, the community and spirit of the people within your “Holme(s)” determines the tolerability of the living space. With its diverse cast of people, Woodruff will provide you with a range of fun and exciting people to befriend, all bonded over your shared sense of isolation from the rest of the school. You may be away from your friends but they are not gone forever. Surely, you’ll build a new circle of buddies at Woody, so don’t “Raoul” over and die just yet.

You may have to walk a lot and your room might be old, but the vibrant Woodruff community and presence of the useful (albeit slightly worse) WoodREC Cafe gives you a living experience that will definitely make your sophomore year unique. Every res hall has flaws (be it Harris’s puny rooms or Clairmont Tower’s everything) so rather than focusing on the bad, think of the multiple good things that can come as a result of your life at Woody.

Sincerely,

Doolino

Dear Doolino,

OK, so the course atlas is out and class selection is right around the corner. I am a neuroscience major but the only slot for NBB 201 is at 8:30 a.m. Either, I take NBB 201 this year or the year after, which is unappealing for a variety of reasons. How do I take this class at the crack of dawn and not fail?

From Brain On My Parade

Dear Brain On My Parade,

The Gods of the Course Atlas believe in perpetual zen and balance. While they are sometimes benevolent and grant undeserving freshmen free Fridays and such, at other times they curse poor souls like yourselves with a schedule that reminds me of my short stint in hell (it was a phase).

My advice to you? Drink espresso. Drink a lot of espresso. You need this class and you would be dumb to delay it since it may prove useful for your future endeavors in NBB. It’s a tough pill to swallow but you’ll thank yourself in a year.

Sincerely,

Doolino

Dear Doolino,

This is a little awkward. In order to immerse myself in the upcoming “Dooley’s Galaxy” theme of Dooley’s Week, I engineered my roommate’s alarm clock and a bathroom door hinge to become a fully functioning space shuttle. When my roommate woke up one morning for his early morning QTM class, he impulsively smacked my masterpiece out of muscle memory and was promptly blasted off into orbit. How do I get him back?

From A Clockwork Door Hinge

Dear Clockwork,

You honestly think I would believe this ridiculous story? Seriously, engineering  at Emory? Get real.

Sincerely,

Doolino

Dear Doolino,

I’ve gotten myself in a bit of a mess. After chemistry class, I decided to stand and admire the eagle statue outside of Cannon Chapel. I liked it so much that I decided to inspect the wings. Unfortunately, earlier I’d accidentally taken a bottle of concentrated hydrochloric acid from the Atwood Chemistry Center, and it slipped out of my bag and spilled on the statue, corroding the beautiful bronze into nothing more than a moist powder and effervescing hydrogen gas. In fear of being apprehended for my unintentional vandalism, I painted myself in copper orange paint and glued some feathers to my arms, standing in place of the fallen eagle. At this time, Emory officials have not yet caught me. How do I get myself out of this mess?

Sincerely,

Copper Orange is the New Black

Dear Copper Orange,

They say fate works in mysterious ways. Perhaps your entire life has been leading up to this moment, where you will grace the Emory campus with your sterling performance as that Eagle statue. You are fated to stay here forever but do not fear, because you have finally found a purpose in life. Consider yourself lucky and embrace your experience. It may seem unimportant, but it could be worse! You could have been fated to become an investment banker, a generic account or a guy who pretends to be a skeleton since that is the only way he can ever get anything published by the Wheel.

Sincerely,

Doolino

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