Much like college itself, The Fast and the Furious franchise, and the unsettling calm preceding the End of Days, Sophomore Summer is almost halfway over. That means it’s high time for a pointless and unhelpful critique of the term so far, along with some ill-advised, if not outright dangerous suggestions for how to make the most of what’s left of it! So here’s 06X’s mid-term report card, as graded completely arbitrarily by me, without consulting any experts on any of these subjects.

Water Sports—A. This one’s a no-brainer. For impressing those sunbathing sorority gals and dozing lifeguards, there’s nothing like trying to jump off the swimming dock onto a floating styrofoam block—it always works, and you never fall off it and hit your face or groin. And if you really want to turn heads? One word: floaties. Not just for toddlers anymore. For the more adventurous, venture on down to the rope swing for a terrifying and welt-inducing good time. Did I say “rope swing”? That is not what I meant: there is no rope swing, it is a myth created by the Jew-run liberal media. For additional thrills, try jumping into the river off a bridge, or an airplane, or an endangered Harbor Seal. They can take away Tubestock, dammit, but they can’t take away Hurting Yourself In Other Ways On The River: Die Free or Die.

Hooking Up—B. Sophomore Summer has basically been hyped as the time when hormones soar and inhibitions fall to stateschoolesque proportions—the most play you’ll ever get for the rest of your life, ever. Obviously, such expectations are bound to cause disappointments, but though few will ever feel as loved as they did during their pledge terms, don’t complain, because next summer will be worse: all the girls are saying J.P. Morgan’s a total prude and one of the Lehmann Brothers is secretly gay. But if you’re still trying to cross a few off that summertime to-do list, try out some of these tactics to impress:
1) No one wants to hear about your boring major—so why not make up a totally new and awesome one instead? You don’t have to be “Econ modified with Govy” anymore; next time you bring your A-game, your major is Extreme Photography, Led Zeppelin Studies, Huge-Inheritance-Management, or Sweet Lovemaking. GPA? A perfect 4.0, baby.
2) Comparing study-abroad experiences? So Spring ’06! Try instead comparing bruises and abrasions suffered from reckless hurting-yourself-on-the-river activities.
3) Don’t forget to mark your territory! Nothing says, “I am the mate you want to choose” like urinating all over your room to keep competition away!

Academics—W, which stands for Withdrawal—withdrawal from classes, withdrawal from responsibilities, withdrawal from early-onset alcoholism, etc. If you do go to class, and do avoid soiling every aspect of your life, though, see if you can spot these fun summer characters: Dude Who Is Clearly Stoned And Totally Gets Hegel Now, Sweaty Girl Who Is Still Wearing That Heartbeat Counter Thing You Wear When Jogging, Professor Who Cares Even Less About Bullshit Intro Class 101 Than You Do, and, of course, The ‘07.

Home Life—B+. Chances are, you’re living this term in a dorm room, in a Greek house, in an off-campus apartment, or, if you’re anything like me, in a delicate, mythical realm of willful self-delusion completely untethered to reality—with either your freshman floor buddies, your sweet frat posse, or the noble fairy-people, Santa Claus, and evolution. This is probably a fine arrangement, though you may find yourself in squabbles over food, shower length, and eggnog that somehow keeps disappearing.

Hanging Out—A-, but it should be an A++. As the old adage goes, “Hang out one night a week, shame on you. Hang out two nights a week, also shame on you, though marginally less.” Hanging out during Sophomore Summer is a tradition as old as the Hill Winds themselves, a practice nearly mythologized in the perorations and writings of many of Dartmouth’s luminariest luminaries. Daniel Webster closed his case before the Supreme Court with this exhortation, “This, Sir, is my case! It is the case not merely of that humble institution, it is the case of every college in our Land! Verily, a crisis has beleaguered the youths of this great Nation, a crisis of competence, and action, and doing stuff—I must lay down this, my ultimatum: hang out or hang out.” And Robert Frost committed to the eons these lines, which still echo timeless:

“I do not see why I should e’er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track,
For I tread the path of many errants,
Woooo yeeeeah; Collegggge! NO PARENTS!”

And this from the man who invented Sophomore Summer when he accidentally blacked out at the end of spring term and didn’t come to until two months later, having lost his pants, but having gained four volumes of critically-acclaimed poetry and crudely-drawn penis on his face.

So remember those words of Dartmouth’s most-beloved dropout and, if nothing else, thank your lucky stars you didn’t have to work at Frost-E-Treat again!