Low standards, more happiness

We’re all pretty grown up now — I’d say that most of us are adults here. Is there a need to go back to middle school and rate people on their physical attractiveness? Perhaps we really do go out to the Street for a couple of hookups. Perhaps we actually do want to dance (hey friend who likes to get that grind on). And perhaps we do have more than a few undesirable hookups. But — and I’m just going to blindly take a stab at it here — is everyone really that unattractive in their drunken glory? Is it really necessary to smell like a perfume counter while partying? Do girls really have missing teeth at the age of 18?

At this point, some of you may be saying, “But we have to have a reason!” To which I reply, “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” Perhaps those who have to go to the Street to nurse their egos probably have a bit of hidden jealousy or angst. We’re Princeton students — is it really necessary to make fun of fat people in order to make ourselves feel worthwhile? Is it really necessary to judge so harshly? Besides, who wouldn’t want some “cushion for the pushin’”? We sit in tiny desks at uncomfortable tables for at least 15 hours a week and stress about internships and jobs and grades and life constantly — what’s wrong with something soft?

The freshman boy who maintains that it was really cool to be on the debate team in his high school? He may think it is actually pretty cool — heck, I think it’s pretty cool that he may be the best debater in the country. He may choose his words with a much higher standard than normal students — perhaps he wants to hook up, but doesn’t want to lower his standards and listen to drunken students groan about how many shots they’ve had. However, he doesn’t have to. He can choose which pregames to go to; he could go to a debate pregame with his friends and meet a kid who has something in common with him and be comfortable with smiling at him the next day. He doesn’t have to run around looking desperately for passes — he’s content with the friends and the club. It’s a night out, it’s fun, it’s with friends, it’s a bit hazy. It’s fine.

The crew girl who doesn’t fit into spandex? No worries, she’ll be gone from the Street soon, too busy kicking Harvard, Yale or Brown’s ass every weekend at one of the hardest sports in the world. She’ll keep her NCAA Championship title, so feel free to go out to the Street then and boost that ego by hooking up with people who don’t juggle a varsity sport and five classes everyday.

I have no defense for the grad student on the Street. You probably do just want to black out to make the pain go away.

Finally, it’s unfortunate that Prince Charming or Megan Fox isn’t on the Street for us to hook up with. It’s not necessary to judge people so harshly; we’re not all perfect, and, even as Princetonians, we probably will never be. We go out to the Street to have fun — who cares why or what happens? We overwork that noodle in classes, so should we have to analyze the few hours every week we lose our worries? Why should we pinpoint every fault of every person around us, when we are intoxicated ourselves? If any experience is difficult to enjoy, next time do as D.A.R.E. says — just say no.

Some debaters have to deal with people with nasty beer breath. Some curvaceous people have to hook up with a bag of bones. And some crew girls have to hook up with guys who are just not big enough.

Jaime Ding is a freshman from Baton Rouge L.A. She can be reached at jpding@princeton.edu.