Photo by destinelee on Flickr, licensed under Creative Commons.

Do consider alcohol delivery. EV1 is kind enough to deliver alcohol to you, which is much appreciated. There’s a delivery fee built in, but don’tskimp on the tip. The delivery guy is freezing so you don’t have to be, so the least you can do is kick in another couple bucks.

Do wear a coat. Yes, there’s a chance you’ll lose it at the party but you’ve got to at least try not to die. If you’re that worried about losing it, wear a coat you don’t care about. But don’t wear a hat, mittens or a scarf; you don’t really need them, and they’re going to get lost or stolen within minutes of your arrival. Do put your coat in a more specific place than “on the coat pile.” Stowing it under furniture, in a different room, etc., will save you precious minutes searching when you could be hooking up with the hottie waiting for you at the door.

Don’t leave anything in your pockets. And I mean anything. For as rich as half of Northwestern kids are, we sure are fond of stealing wallets and cigarettes from coat pockets. Kleptos, all of you.

Don’t let the weather dampen your regular party-going outfits. You’ll probably look dumb in a dress, high heels or any other really-dressed-up-for-no-reason attire, but a party is still a party. With tons of people exchanging body heat in a small space look forward to some sweaty times if you insist on wearing that turtleneck. Plus, how will you ever find that pseudo-special someone to keep you warm in bed if your goods are flying under the cable-knit radar? If you must wear a sweater, at least wear a short-sleeve number underneath.

Do get rides wherever you can. SafeRide’s a good bet, but it takes forever and is technically not a taxi service (whatever, administration). Don’t get stuck waiting an hour for SafeRide when you’re ready to go. Cough up some cash and split a cab. It’s under $10 to get home from party central. Pile four kids in the car and get ready to pay two bucks in order to refrain from freezing. Your friends with cars probably do not want to drive, but if the wait for SafeRide is too long, you have no cash for a cab and you don’t care about getting wasted, then do offer to DD.

Do choose your parties carefully. Even the walk between Ridge and Davis, and Ridge and Church, can seem too far when we’re in the sub-zeros. Consider doing some research before you leave the house to see where the most party potential lies: where your close friends are going, where you’ll feel the worst about not attending, where your secret crush may be at — stuff like that.

If you really don’t see a point in going out, don’t feel bad about staying in. A lot of people make that choice, making most parties less crowded once the wind chill kicks in. Catch up on TV, read a book or follow the first piece of advice: get alcohol delivered and get drunk with your roommates instead. Major bonding time, guys.

1. The Creepy Older Guy
Entertainment Factor: Medium. Very low if you are a girl with big eyes/boobs.
Description: The COG is the Trip McNeely, the Wooderson of the party scene. No one knows how he got there, who he knows there or whether he was even an alum; but sure enough, he’s there. You hardly ever see a Creepy Older Girl, and for good reason — girls know not to chase younger ass. Even though the word “creepy” is built into his name, the COG is still good for a laugh now and then. Making him feel as old as possible is the only real way to get him to vacate the premises. That, or forcing one of your friends to take one for the team and sleep with him.
Hookup Probability: Technically high, but seriously, don’t do it. Sleeping with the COG is almost as bad as sleeping with a prospie. Almost.

2. The Loud Girl with Questionable Self-Esteem
Entertainment Factor: High.
Description: This girl is wasted, guaranteed. She’s probably drinking away some feelings, and is always six decibels louder than everyone else at even the loudest of parties, and has literally no idea. She wants you to think that she can drink you under the table, but during those all-too-frequent trips to the bathroom, she’s pouring half of her drink down the sink so she can continue to flirt with the guy by the keg. She listens to Kelly Clarkson, natch. Some may find her annoying, but she’s always good for a laugh because she’ll probably fall at least once.
Hookup Probability: Very high. Because of that questionable self-esteem, you can probably take her home. Where you’ll listen to more Kelly Clarkson, natch.

3. The Beer Pong Enthusiast
Entertainment Factor: Low. High if you, too, are a Beer Pong Enthusiast.
Description: He means business. If there’s no beer pong, he’ll set it up. Some people carry a pack of cigarettes; he carries a pack of ping pong balls. No table? No problem. He’ll probably just practice against a wall or, better yet, work on his accuracy by sinking into cups of whatever people are drinking. Let’s be honest, he’s probably in a frat or wishes he were, but didn’t have his “game on” during rush. The BPE can often be spotted — no joke — praying over his ping pong ball before the last cup.
Hookup Probability: Low. He can’t be disturbed, and if he loses the game, he’ll probably be too depressed to go home with you anyway. Although, you might have better chances if you shave your pubic hair into a cup triangle. He might be down with that.

4. The Fighting Couple
Entertainment Factor: Medium.
Description: They’re your on-again-off-again friends, but the on and off changes every hour or so when they’re drinking. Sometimes, they’re fun to watch, but if you make eye contact with either one by accident — even for a second — you’ll probably get dragged straight into that drama. They’re best left to their own devices: Screaming at each other in the alley, or making up with a little make-out sesh in the corner of the dance floor. Tears abound.
Hookup Probability: High. If you pounce during an “off” phase, you’re the perfect warm body to dry his/her tears and kiss away his/her pain. Ain’t nothing wrong with being the innocent half of revenge sex. Try not to ever run into the other half of the couple though, because they won’t be as kind to you. Also, get ready to hear a lot about the other half before, during and after your hookup.

5. The Uncontrollable Bodily Function
Entertainment Factor: High. Extremely low if you are hosting the party.
Description: The UBF is not for the weak of heart or the strong of mind. This is low-brow comedy at its best. This lad or lady is that barely-standing reveler with slurred speech and spastic movement — you can even make a quick buck guessing just when they’re going to pass out. Unfortunately, the UBF comes with a high price to the hosts of the shindig, as both pee and vomit smell for days and leave a weird sort of stain that has to get explained away with an “Oh, that stain you’re sitting on? Actually, it’s kind of a funny story…” As always, make sure this kid has a walking partner to get home. The bushes start to look awfully comfortable when you’re three steps from puking your lungs out.
Hookup Probability: Don’t even bother. Even after they’ve made it through the darkest of their times, they’ll probably still smell bad and have a little crust on their person.

A product of drinking in our New Jersey basement circa 4 a.m. in late December, “Innies and Outies” could have been brushed off as a drunken, confusing fluke. But after several rounds between myself, my brother and our friends Aron, Gina, and Zuz, the game became more than just a fluke. It became a straight-up battle.

Game: Innies and Outies

Similar to: Beer Pong

Supplies:

4 people – 2 per team (plus one optional “Backboard Kid”)
1 table
1 chair (or other table. or the ground.)
19 Solo cups
2 ping pong balls

The setup. Illustration by North by Northwestern.

Setup:
1. Each team sets up their seven cups in a honeycomb formation – one cup in the middle (the innie) and six cups surrounding it (the outies).
2. Two cups go in the center of the table, about two cups’ width apart in a line – these are your bonus cups.
3. Another two cups serve as standard water cups.
4. Finally, one cup goes on a chair far from the table. This is your Endgame Cup. Fill all the cups halfway with beer, besides the water cups, obvs.

Gameplay:
Like beer pong, each team takes turns shooting at the cup formation opposite them. However, in this game, you only want to get the ball in the center cup. If you hit the innie, your opponent must take one of your outies out of play and drink the beer. If you hit any of the outies, you must drink down that cup, put the cup back into formation and then fill it with beer again. Thus, if you continuously sink the innie, you’ll get all of your outies taken out of play and win the game. If you continuously sink the outies, you will keep drinking and drinking until somehow, you start hitting the innie.

Now, for the bonus cups. Every time you miss the table without your ball even touching the cups (referred to as “rimming” or “teasing”), you must drink one of the bonus cups in the center of the table. Play continues if there is one bonus cup in the center, but when a team misses and has to drink the second bonus cup, the other team gets 4 shots on their next turn as opposed to 2. After taking the bonus shots, both bonus cups come back into play and the game continues. Having those extra shots comes in handy though, if you want to…go for the Endgame Cup.

The Endgame Cup is extremely hard to make and you shouldn’t bother wasting a regular turn trying to hit it as you will most likely miss completely and end up drinking a bonus cup. However, if you have an extra shot, you can take a no-penalty try for the Endgame Cup.

As the name implies, if either team sinks the Endgame cup, the game ends and the other team drinks all of the remaining beer on the table. If you’d like to shoot for the Endgame, you must turn to your Backboard Kid and say, “Zuz, I’d like to end the game, please.” The Backboard Kid then completes his sole function – to retrieve the ball should the Endgame shot go haywire (note: The Backboard Kid is only necessary when playing in a space with lots of crevices, like a basement).

After one team clears all their cups, the other team has one chance to hit the Endgame Cup. If they are able to, the game starts over. If not, the game ends and they drink everything left in their cups.

It’s slightly confusing, but I think you will find it superior to beer pong. You can’t leave this to pure luck — if you’re not a sureshot, you’ll be drinking twice as much as planned. The game is best suited for smaller parties because it can keep going for a long time.

“Innies and Outies” in a nutshell: Hit the innies, eliminate the outies, don’t whiff the table and take a chance on the Endgame cup.

You’ll get used to it.

There are no good parties for you because there are too many of you. For each frosh invited to an off-campus abode, another five show up. No one gives the host cash flow, everyone makes a mess and resentment goes both ways when the booze dries up. So why even bother?

This is the the only piece of knowledge that I want you to absorb, right now: It is not Northwestern’s fault that there are no parties. The problem lies, as usual, with money. Upperclassmen don’t leave you out in the cold because we don’t like you. We leave you out in the cold because we don’t want to pay for you. This goes for not just purchasing actual liquor, but paying off the po-po when they come to bust the party.

Don’t let NSW be the litmus test for your entire year. Sure, you have much more time to drink now, but you have much less means to drink. NSW is really only fun for upperclassmen (or is it?).

If you still really need to party it up, there are several approaches to take:

1. Meet upperclassmen to buy you booze.

Since they probably won’t invite you to places yet, get to know them well enough that if they’re on their way to EV1 or Jewel anyway, they won’t mind picking you up some goods while they’re there. The true Northwestern partier creates their own party: in dorm rooms, in the basement of Tech, in parking lots, etc. I don’t think I’m supposed to advocate it, but drinking in your dorm room is better than not drinking at all, right? Besides, your CA is probably just a jealous, boohoo-I’m-not-21-and-I-still-live-on-campus student on a power trip. So you’ll get written up: one or two times won’t kill you. Just keep your drinking quiet.

2. Meet already-drunk upperclassmen who will invite you where they’ll be going.

Smart upperclassmen will ignore groups of frosh on the street. Drunk ones will befriend you, thinking themselves saviors to the under-imbibed and guiding you in the right direction. Their alcoholism is your alcoholism. Embrace it. A good place to start with this phenomenon is the upperclassmen siblings of freshmen you meet. They feel close to the freshmen already and are more likely to give a crap about your untainted livers.

3. Don’t stress the point.

Seriously, you have four years to get shithoused. You don’t need to be the girl who got wheeled out of her dorm on the second day of NSW. (For serious, this happened already this school year. To quote Superbad, “People don’t forget.”) Don’t go to a party one night? Who cares? You’ll make up for it later. The only thing worse than a vomiting girl is the kid who constantly talks about how much they wish they could drink right now.

In short, get over it, guys. It’s going to be a long four years if you spend it wallowing in self-pity when you’re not drunk. And if you must keep trolling for parties, good luck. Enough people drink on this campus that you’ll probably find one eventually. Just make sure it’s not a frat party — you already know how I feel about that.

People have requested that I offer an explanation of beer pong. I too was surprised, but apparently there are plenty of kids on this campus that do not know the rules, thus disrespecting the true wonder that is beer pong.

Granted, beer pong rules are different almost everywhere you go, as there are endless alternate rules that can be added. Because of this, it is absolutely integral that you are aware of the “house rules” before you start playing anywhere. People get pissed when their house rules are dissed or ignored. Really pissed.

Let’s start with the basics:

Find a long, smooth, flat surface. Pingpong tables are always recommended, but really, anything about that long that’s also wide enough to support 10 cups on each side will do.

Collect your materials. You’ll need 22 party cups. That’s 10 for each triangle and one water cup each. You’ll also need a ton of beer. Two beers per side will do it, though a lot of people play with three. Real champions (read: alcoholics) play with full cups, but that’s not recommended. And, of course, you’ll need two pingpong balls. A partner is optional, but much appreciated.

Now that you’re all ready to go, you’re going to need to figure out who throws first. A common way: the stare down. One person on each side of the table takes a pingpong ball and stares into the other person’s eyes. On the count of three, you throw your ball towards your opponents cups without breaking eye contact. If no one lands a throw, keep alternating between partners until someone does. Whoever sinks it first gets to go first; however the cup you hit doesn’t count.

Basically, all you have to do is throw a pingpong ball into a cup. When the ball goes into the cup, the other team takes the cup away and drinks it. Once all of the cups are gone, they are drunk and you have won. Easy peasy. Here are some popular rules to spice up the game:

1. The Re-rack. After you start hitting a lot of cups, they end up in a weird formation that’s tricky to aim at. So, periodically during the game, you can ask for a re-rack and your opponents will put them into a different formation. Generally, you only get two re-racks a game, but I’ve also seen it played that you can get one at six cups, four cups, three cups, and two cups. Popular formations are the six cup pyramid, a “Princess Di” (4 cup diamond), the three cup mini-pyramid, the three cup vertical or horizontal, and the two cup vertical or horizontal.
2. The Bounce. Occasionally, your opponent will be too drunk to exhibit functioning motor skills, or they just won’t be paying attention and you’ll have the opportunity to bounce your ball into their cup as opposed to just throwing it. If you do bounce it in, the other team has to take two cups away instead of just one. However, the opponent is allowed to swat the bounced ball away before it reaches the cup, which leads to a lot of shouting.
3. The Blow. Sometimes, the ball will be circling the top of the cup before it goes in, leaving doubt as to whether it will actually sink. If you notice a ball circling the cup, you are allowed to blow directly into the cup so the ball will bounce out instead. Be careful though – if it is deemed that you are interfering with the ball, you may lose an extra cup. Them’s the breaks, kid.
4. The NBA Jam Rules. Many people play with rules derived from the video game, NBA Jam. If you hit a cup twice in a row, you have to announce that you are “heating up.” If, after heating up, you hit a third cup in a row, then you announce that you are now, in fact, “on fire.” Once you are on fire, you get to shoot until you miss a cup. Awesome.
5. The Rebuttal. It’s the end of the game, your opponents have one cup left, and you still have a bunch because you suck at beer pong. Way to go, ass. Here’s what’s going to go down: if your first opponent hits the last cup, his partner has a chance to throw too. If the second opponent also sinks the cup, the game’s over. However, if only one opponent hits the cup, you’ve got a chance for a rebuttal. You now have the opportunity to shoot until you miss and finish the game. Once you miss, your partner has the same opportunity. If you don’t clear all of the cups, you’ve lost the game. If you do clear all of the cups, then you go into overtime with three cups in and play as before.

There you have it. A quick guide to some beer pong basics. There are tons of other ways to play, including Recovery Pong, Full Contact Pong, etc. There’s lots of rules that can be added to speed up the game as well: you lose a cup if you overshoot the table, the game ends if you and your partner hit the same cup before the opponents have a chance to clear it, the game ends if you sink the ball into the cup your opponent is drinking out of, stuff like that.

So go forth, my budding alcoholics. And don’t let anyone tell you beer pong isn’t fun. People who say that are just bad at team sports. And drinking.

How is this possible? Now that I’m legitimately not doing anything illegal, I’m getting in more trouble than ever before. Something’s not right.

I will tell you about two instances that took place within a few days of each other, since I assume talking about them will help me overcome the depression they spark inside of me.

On a Thursday last week, we were all sitting around, drinking some beer and wine, playing some drinking games at my friend’s apartment. Nothing rowdy, nothing out of the ordinary. Ten people tops.

Out of nowhere, the police are called to the apartment not once, but twice. And not one police officer, but three. Three Evanston police officers sent to deal with ten kids sitting around doing hardly anything exciting? That’s higher than the faculty-to-student ratio. I think even the police officers were embarrassed to have to write a ticket for practically no reason. Freaking asshole neighbors and their reporting of “noise violations.”

That hurt. But it was no where near the devastation we would see just two days later at the hands of the Indiana law enforcement.

My friends and I decide to go camping on a whim. Sounds like fun: cooking out, drinking beers, telling ghost stories, s’mores. A wholesome family night really. We drive out to the dunes in Indiana and set up shop. Everyone gets there by 9 p.m. and, of course, everyone brings alcohol. And nice alcohol, as we were away from Northwestern and could afford to be classy for once.

But our classy camping adventure got shut down.

Apparently, the quiet hours start at 10 p.m., so either the grandmas on one side of us or the Boy Scouts on the other side of us were angry as we yelled about penises and what not (we were camping — lay off). A Forest Ranger approaches our campsite, let’s call him Ranger Dick, and he is not amused. Turns out, you are only allowed to have two cars (we had three), eight people (we had 11), and you are not allowed to use sticks from the woods to start a fire (really?). But worst of all: Alcohol is not allowed.

This was devastating enough. What was the point of camping if we weren’t going to drink? I thought just maybe I could get through it. Until Ranger Dick said we had to pour it all out. Every bottle, every can, every box of wine. Couldn’t we just pack it up and drive home? No, we had to learn a lesson. So we did it. In what can only be described as a travesty, we drained $150 worth of alcohol into Mother Nature’s mouth. That greedy bitch.

Once Ranger Dick also started throwing sticks further from our campsite so we wouldn’t be able to start fires with them, half of us decided it wasn’t worth it and drove home. We drove back and ended up going to a Ridge and Davis party. Those who stayed said that when the wind changed directions, all you could smell was the alcohol. It sucked.

But let’s not linger. Let’s instead think about some tips about how to deal with police so that you don’t have to face the devastation that I have recently faced.

1. Be polite. So simple, yet so often ignored. You will get nowhere with snide comments to a man who will enjoy fining you hundreds of dollars. My friend Dan described the police in an interesting way: It’s one of the only jobs where, no matter who you are or what you look like, you will inspire fear in someone just for being around. Police know this and like this. So, be nice to them. Especially the little cops: They’re the worst.

2. Party-proof your house. Avoid the police altogether — if you think it will be beneficial, warn your neighbors before you have a party. Close your windows, even if it’s going to be hot. Keep people off your porches and fire escapes and decks, which are probably the biggest cause of police presence at parties.

3. Don’t lie. Now, I’ve never had to speak directly to a police officer, and I’ve heard some mixed opinions on this one. But it seems to me that straight up lying to an officer of the law is probably a terrible idea. You can still feign ignorance or not bring your ID to a party so they can’t find you in the system and prove that you aren’t 21, but if you end up getting caught in a lie, I think you’re in for some major problems.

4. Offer them food. Usually a last resort, but I’ve seen tickets get avoided from cheese and crackers alone.

5. Don’t panic. Being calm, cool, and collected will be much better than starting to cry, guaranteed. If the police show up at a party you’re attending, don’t run away. That’s lame and obvious. Just put your drink down somewhere. I don’t think you can get in any immediate trouble if there’s nothing in your hands, although your jungle juice stained mouth may or may not give you away. Either sit quietly to wait it out or, if possible, walk quietly out of another exit.

In general, just play it cool. Most of the police are pretty nice and don’t really want to be spending their time busting up parties when they could be chilling at White Hen.

Drink whenever…

1. Derek mentions sex. Admit it. The man has got a problem. A sexy problem, but a problem at that.

2. Meredith rambles. Voiceover counts, because damn do I hate Meredith.

3. Meredith gets “McDreamy eyes”. You know what I’m talking about. This is usually coupled with the mouth-half-open Meredith signature. Any time she is looking at, thinking about, or having sex with McDreamy, she probably has the “McDreamy eyes” going on.

4. Sandra Oh makes a “monster face”. This one is a little harder to explain. Every time I look at Sandra Oh, she reminds me of the big blue monster from Monsters, Inc. That is not a judgment on her character, her acting ability, or really anything about her except for the fact that she sometimes makes crazy faces. Basically, any time that area between her eyebrows scrunches in thought, or she’s angry about not getting a certain surgery, she’s probably making a monster face. Drink twice if she also shows a complete lack of emotion while doing so.

5. Izzie becomes too emotionally attached to a patient. Drink twice if she even thinks about mentioning Denny. During any Denny episode, basically just drink straight through.

6. George is a whiny bitch. George is adorable and all, but the kid’s got to man up sometimes. Come on!

7. Callie looks longingly at George. I guess he’s man enough to be doing it with Callie. Similar to Meredith’s McDreamy eyes, Callie’s got some wistful looks of her own. Drink twice if Callie looks like she’s twice the size of someone while she is looking longingly.

8. McSteamy or Alex make an inappropriate comment. Because both do so often.

9. Bailey doles out some sass. If those interns would only listen. Drink twice if Bailey shows an uncommon moment of empathy.

10. Addison rolls her eyes. Drink twice if she’s wearing some salmon-colored scrubs at the same time. Why is she the only one that doesn’t wear green or blue?

11. Someone takes off their shirt. If you need to drink away some feelings, then patients also count in this.

12. Patients offer up more attitude than the doctors. There are some testy mofos on this show.

13. Anything about Seattle is referenced. The name “Seattle Grace Hospital” is a twofer. Derek’s mentions of ferry boats should also be noted doubly.

14. Unnecessarily complex medical jargon. Drink twice if for some reason or another you understand said jargon or have had a medical condition referenced on the show.

15. Blood, sweat, and tears. Drink twice for urine or vomit.

A toast to those who, on a daily basis, deal with us, the alcoholics of Northwestern. I’m talking the employees of White Hen, the patrons of Burger King, and the paid-a-lot-but-clearly-not-paid-enough students who drive SafeRide.

There are not enough drinks in the world for me to drink in your honor.

As previously mentioned, I do know what it is like to be the only sober person in a ten mile radius. In a nutshell, it sucks. Drunk people are emotional, loud, and unable to control most of their bodily functions. Though I’ve only taken SafeRide maybe twice in my career (a drunk person knows no fear) I have frequented White Hen almost daily, and BK perhaps two to three times a month. The only thing worse than acting a fool at one of these locales when you’re drunk is going in the next day and knowing that they’re judging you.

Let’s start with White Hen. The employees of White Hen are not only understanding to your plight for the perfect drunk snack or the perfect box of cigarettes, they are only too willing to help you out. Something gives me the feeling that they’ve been there before. Or that they are there right now and are just trying to help a fellow inebriated person out. Mohawk Guy (who is leaving next week for Colorado! What will we do!?) will give you a good sandwich recommendation and tell you about whatever show he has coming up with his band. Beard Guy will listen to you drone on and on about whatever happened to you at the party while silently laughing at you. Dreadlocks Guy will terrify you with stories about how the world is going to end, which is actually not very helpful when you’re drunk.

The best part about going to White Hen drunk? All of the cops. It gives you a sense of danger and urgency, making sure you get home quickly, lest you get arrested while they help themselves to some White Hen coffee. In reality, these cops are also just laughing at you, chuckling to themselves as you buy three sandwiches “for your roommates,” even though you’re going to eat them by yourself. My absolute favorite part of White Hen is trying to pretend I’m sober, even though no one (except for the employees and the cops) goes to White Hen between the hours of 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. if they’re sober. I go to White Hen because for twenty minutes, I can feel like I am laughing with the employees and cops, even though I wake up in the afternoon and know they were laughing at me.

Here’s to you, White Hen. Thank you for your delicious sandwiches and overpriced food items. Even though you may soon be a 7-Eleven, I’ll never forget you.

Next, of course, is Burger King. They put in a lounge and TVs, which was probably the nicest thing they could do for those of us who don’t count calories because we can’t remember eating. The employees of BK should really be used to the drunken hoards that invade every night after about 1 a.m. and yet they always seem surprised to see us. Not only surprised, but annoyed. They don’t have the twinkle in their eyes that the White Hen guys have. No, the BK guys have disdain for the drunkies. Even though I’m sure half of their income is made from drunk kids who order two separate meals because they want to taste the difference between a Whopper and a Stacker, they do not appreciate the drunk kids. The security guard on the other hand, has a field day. He’s not like a regular mom, he’s a cool mom that lets you drink in his house and doesn’t give you a hard time about it. He’ll talk to you about your major and your life plans and even about the skank who stole your man. Yes, the security guard outshines the BK employees by a long shot.

After parties get broken up, BK becomes the social event of the evening — a veritable “who’s who” of campus celebrities. Slurred words don’t matter because you can order food based on numbers alone. People hook up in the bathroom. People hook up in the lounge. Hell, I’ve seen people hook up in line before their mouths taste like burgers and grease.

So thank you, BK. For giving us a cheap and easy afterparty. Even though I still contend that there should be more people working at night so we don’t have to wait as long, I understand that it’s a lot to ask. Maybe next year.

And finally, SafeRide. Though I’m not really a patron of SafeRide, I salute them for doing what no one else wants to do: DD. According to the school, SafeRide is not actually a designated driver service, but they might as well be. With new regulations and rules, it’s less possible to jam a ton of your friends into a car to get a ride somewhere before you all throw up on each other. Still, the chance that these drivers will have to clean up vomit is a risk they take on a daily basis. One time I saw a SafeRide driver at Jewel Osco picking up a case of beer. I doubt that the driver drank during his/her shift, but the idea really keeps me grounded. These kids also want to be out drinking, but they’re sacrificing their nights so that we can engage in our own buffoonery.

It should probably be named “Moderately-SafeRide” based on the number of near-collisions that I’ve witnessed in my day, but at least they’re trying. I’ll always think that they should up the number of SafeRide cars and drivers, and that people should be allowed to flag down a SafeRide, much like a taxi. I just spent all of my money buying shots, so I don’t have enough money for a taxi. Why not let a fellow student help me out? They should also have a tip jar, because drunk kids love parting with their money in out-of-control ways. But what do I know? I’m just a drunk kid.

I was wrong.

I went to Hundo within the first 10 minutes of turning 21. Granted, I was already really drunk. Granted, it was my birthday so I got a lot of free drinks. But after I woke up, I felt a little disappointed. Was that it? Did we just pay six dollars for tablespoon-sized shots in a crowded little bar with hardly any dance floor? The answer: yes. I will probably get excommunicated from Northwestern for saying so, but I don’t think Hundo is that great. Of course I will still go there, but I thought I’d use this column to tell you about the better bars I’ve been to recently. I’m the first to admit that I have minimal bar experience, but take what I experience I do have and apply it to your own life.

Celtic Knot

Well known on campus, but far underrated. Two words: Irish bartender. There’s a good chance that someone in there will have an adorable Irish accent. When we went in on my birthday, the waitress brought me a cake, unprompted. If that’s not good service, I don’t know what is. They’ve got a great assortment of beers and Irish-themed drinks for a decent price. The food is a little on the expensive side, but it’s worth it. The atmosphere is pretty much the best in this whole town, but I might just be saying that because I am Irish and these are my people.

Bar Louie

Also a little bit expensive, but they have really great bar food for when you don’t want to get fall-down drunk. I highly recommend the pretzels — they’re practically the best thing I have eaten in my entire life, besides my mom’s macaroni and cheese casserole. Their shots are gigantic compared to the shots at Hundo. They also have “Dollar Burger Night” on Tuesday, where you get a huge hamburger for a dollar with your drink order. An inside source tells me that the burgers are getting even bigger, too (and by “inside source,” I mean my roommate Pat). It’s a great bar to go to sit around at for a couple hours with friends while the friendly staff gets you drunk. As a bonus, they have sweet coat hooks attached to the bar itself, so your shit won’t get stolen!

Bat 17

This bar opened pretty recently and I’ll have to be honest, I didn’t even notice it at first. It’s kind of a deli-slash-bar, and while the food is out-of-control expensive ($15 for a ham sandwich? Get out of here) they have RIDICULOUSLY cheap drink specials every single night. Cheap drinks even on Friday and Saturday? I approve. It’s pretty small, but you can follow in the footsteps of my roommate Pat and orchestrate the following: Pat had a party at Bat 17 called “Pat Seven-Teeming with People.” He got a bunch of his friends to fill the place, which made the bar seem totally happening, but it was only filled with fun people that he knew. The bartenders loved it and we loved it, so everyone was happy. Also, their bathroom walls are entirely lined with toilet-paper rolls, so you never have to worry about awkwardly drip drying in public.

Star Gaze

This was the highlight of my birth weekend: a lesbian bar in Andersonville. After 15 or 20 minutes on the El and about a 3 minute walk from the platform, Star Gaze was the most open and fun bar that I’ve seen. Flanked by three gay men, I was probably the only straight person in the entire bar, but no one cared. We bought drinks for others, others bought drinks for us and everyone talked to everyone — no judgment and no cliques at all. Plus, half of the bar is a sports bar and the other half was a huge dance party. If you are comfortable hanging out with relaxed people going out to have a fun time, then you will love this bar. Drinks were pretty cheap, plus the unisex bathroom really sped up the line. Thursday is “Salsa Night” and Sunday is “Karaoke Night,” which is also added hilarity. Plus, I got free drinks and a phone number. Also, if your name is “Choppa”… then thanks for the tequila.

There are many more, and I’m sure I’ll write about them once my bank account refills and I have time for more exploring. The moral of the story is: Hundo sucks. Branch out.

I was a sophomore in college at this point, so I knew my way around a liquor cabinet, but I had never tried my hand at familial drinking. Encouraged by another cousin who insisted that “everyone is twenty-one at a wedding,” I descended into a state of drunkenness rivaled only by Susan’s sorority-sister-type bridesmaids.

Although the next morning was extremely painful (due to the fact that it was a wedding in Martha’s Vineyard, and a full oyster bar plus a six hour car ride the next morning does not end well), I considered it a success. My dad had even taken to ordering me “that Mexican beer that Sarah likes” from the bartenders. But the question arose — was this a one time thing or did this mean that I was always allowed to drink at family events?

When my cousin Tim graduated from college last June, I tried my luck again and asked to have some beer at the party. The statute of limitations from Susan’s wedding had passed, so I figured that everyone had forgotten about the fact that I puked all morning and missed the Sunday brunch. After several hours of drinking with family members again, it was all they could do to remind me. This time, I didn’t just drink with my family. I played flip cup with my family, smoked cigarettes with my cousins, and stayed up until 7 a.m. drinking wine and playing guitar on the back porch. Still, this could be just a fluke.

The ultimate test: a family party at my own home. Not only did I get drunk, but I invited all of my friends to get drunk. Dozens of kids passing out on the couches, all the while relatives regaled us with tales of their own youthful misadventures. My mom even bought me a bottle of terrible wine that I had requested (I couldn’t bring myself to share the fact that I love Franzia boxed wine).

Now that I’m 21, these stories don’t matter much anymore because I can drink without my parents’ permission. But the point is, you’ll never know until you try. I’ve been to some great parties, but a lot of my favorite drunk semi-memories have been from family parties. There’s no risk of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a family party (unless it’s a REALLY good family party). There’s little risk of the police coming to break up your party (unless you’re a Hayden, because that has happened to us). There are people who love you and are looking out for you every step of the way. And usually, there’s home-cooked food instead of Burger King for when you get hungry.

So give it a try. Open up a beer with dinner. Ask your parents to go double-or-nothing over a game of flip cup. Start a full-out beer pong tournament. Get Grandma involved. You might find that your parents are better at drinking than you are. My parents are pretty good at it, although they’ve had years and years of practice. Hell, you can even start a facebook group about how awesome your parents are, if you’re (un)lucky enough to have cousins and parents on facebook. There’s no harm in asking, and if your family is like mine — gigantic, loud and Irish — you’ll probably find that you like drinking with your family more than drinking with your friends.

Unless you are, in fact, an orphan. Because then you’re just drinking alone.