Thank god: These seven ideas will save your four day

Ann Karneus

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With Four Day looming, we know you’re scrambling to figure out a plan. But never fear — these travel tips will elevate your break from a solid four to a soft six. 

Go to Portland. Carpool with a random Whitman student and make uncomfortable conversation for four hours. F**k a voodoo donut! Buy a used book that you’ll never read from Powell’s. Get your first tattoo. Bonus points: go to a house show and get a shitty stick-and-poke tattoo from some guy with a beard and a small following on Bandcamp. 

Go to Seattle. See BROCKHAMPTON or Post Malone in concert. Go to Pike Place and post about it on your Instagram. Get a bouquet of flowers, you wasteful bitch. They’ll be dead by the time you get back to Whitman. Go to the top of the Space Needle to see the skyline and ask yourself: where’s the Space Needle and why do I care? 

Go to an acquaintance’s cabin. Do acid. Stack some rocks on top of each other and admire trees. That’s about it. You won’t be friends with these people next year. 

Go camping and realize the only thing your Scramble prepared you for was pooping in a hole. Take your friendships to the next level by watching each other poop in holes. If you’re camping with a current flame, make sure you have unfulfilling tent sex before you leave. 

Visit your state school friends at UO or Gonzaga and realize you have absolutely no hope of keeping up with them. While those four tequila shots you once took in a row made you think you were a seasoned party animal, they mean nothing in the face of state school party culture. You will begin drinking at 11 a.m. every morning, exclusively eat quesadillas and be destroyed emotionally and physically when you get back. 

Stay on campus and regroup. Go to church, recenter yourself, love yourself. Get Graze! Or just get wasted every day. You won’t catch up on work either way. 

Visit home and lie in bed, feeling like a husk of a person and finally reckon with the fact that school has stripped you of everything, and that you’ve completely lost sight of who you are from being a social animal by necessity at every waking moment. Tell your family you love them. Promise them you’re doing fine at school. Then go back to school and completely forget about the revelations you had.

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