I gave the question of “why do we drink alcohol, given all of its negative consequences” some thought, and realized that it was a matter of framing: It’s very easy to paint an undesirable picture of many things that we, as humans, find fun. It’s especially easy when the person painting the picture doesn’t enjoy those things the way others do.

I stayed up far too late a few nights ago, talking with my friends, venting some frustrations and laughing about Napoleon (ambiguous jokes are always the best kind). There I sat, crunched against the wall, knees pulled into my chest, when a group of loud and obviously drunk freshmen stumbled past my withdrawn feet, shouting about finding a friend of theirs.