Emily Nussbaum is the TV critic for The New Yorker and she’ll be giving a Master’s Tea tomorrow at 4PM, Branford College. Attendang.

I follow her on Twitter and am consistently pleased by it. Once she tweeted lyrics from an Elton John song and I re-tweeted them. Over the summer, she wrote this amazing piece on “Sex and the Shitty,” and the last paragraph brought me to actual tears. I was alone in my room in a foreign country, drinking Sauv Blanc, and I’ll never forget that night. Here’s hoping for a similar experience tomorrow. Join meh; get Nuss’d.

Freshman year was really hard for me. I ate breakfast alone in Commons every morning at 7:30. Most days I cried; everyday I read the Yale Daily News.

I have nothing personal against the YDN. Occasionally I make jokes at its expense—I’ve called it the YD”N” a few times—but I have a soft spot for the paper, because its my university’s news daily. I’m a lover, not a fighter, and a sympathetic reader of campus news. After I spent a year working on another campus publication, I only grew more understanding of the YDN and its occasional missteps. Student publications are flawed, because we’re flawed. I’m so flawed. Sometimes I say mean things about people I don’t know. Sometimes I curse. It’s been a while since I’ve meditated and I text in section.

But today in the YDN’s annual prank issue, shit got so lame, and I’m here to say YDNever again, you guys. TYHFFE, YDNever again. Right now I’m back in bed and  listening to the new Drake, because I have no patience for hatred, no patience for bad jokes about mental health, no patience for little battles, tiny wars. Today in the YDNever Again, the Yale Herald‘s former editirix-in-chief, 1 of my main homegirls, and a deeply sympathetic reader of campus news got relentlessly shamed. YDN, we will never Blacklist you again; we have bigger fish to fry. It’s absolutely over. Games are for children and I’ve got my Bain interview and a waxing appointment tomorrow. I’m just not a child anymore.

To reiterate: the Yale Herald is over it. To anyone out there who’s ever felt like a “BLACK HOLE OF DESPAIR,” the Yale Herald is here for you. YDNever again.

I just texted Erap and this is what she’s gotta say: “You can be the biggest assholes on campus or you can be the biggest losers on campus, but you can’t be both.” That’s the final word, y’all. We’re outtie.

CHECK YO EMAIL AND SNAP YO FING-AHS, DO YO STEP, YOU CAN DO IT ALL BY YO-SELF.

In an e-mail sent today, Yale Health announced a series of immensely huge changes to student coverage.  Among them:

• Prescription coverage is now included in Hospitalization/Specialty coverage.
• There is no longer an annual dollar limit for durable medical equipment.
• 60 days of inpatient mental health coverage can now be used consecutively (removal of 180 day waiting period).
• Mental health coverage for outpatient services for enrolled children increases from 16 to 25 visits annually.
• Expenses in connection with a medically necessary sex reassignment surgery will be covered, subject to pre-authorization based on widely accepted standards of care. 

Yesterday someone told me it’s Bulldog Days, which is really great news for a single dude like me, ready 2 play. You may think I’m trying to get w some pre-frosh hotties like you are. You’re wrong.

This year, 1260 pre-frosh from around the world (idk if that’s true or not, I’m just going for it) have descended upon our campus. You’ve seen them in line at Blue Hate looking at the menu, you’ve seen them asking where LC is, you’ve seen them sitting on a bench looking through little blue books that will inevitably lead them in the direction of some people you hate.

You’ve also probably seen their parents, because it’s estimated (thx Alisha) that 1200 parents are also here for Bulldog Dayz. That’s a lot, I think. It got me thinking. Given how prevalent divorce is these days, at least 75% of those parents are probably divorced, and I bet 50% of those people are probably single…

Though it’s not listed on the official Calendar of Events, tonight I’m hosting a mixer for Single Parents of Accepted Students in my apartment. The acronym for this group is SPAS(m). The mixer starts at 10PM and goes ’til late night. This is a mixer w/o mixers — hard stuff only. There will be a DJ and Shades will be performing. The first 25 parents will get a gift baggie (don’t look inside *___*). Text me when you get here and I’ll come get the door for you. Pre-frosh forbidden. <3

Readers of the Bullblog, get pumped. It’s Tap Week! Tap Night’s on Thursday! We know you wanna read about sum secretz. We know you’ve read the Collegiate secret societies in North America Wikipedia page eight times this week. Get ready for us to get real communicative (as opposed to secretive) right here on this website. Keep checking back for more Society-related posts — maybe we’ll leak secret photoz, secret tap listz, news and dramz, secret Tap Night confessionalz. etc.

But for now, join me in subtweeting the shit out of this really strange experience that we’re all being subjected to right now.

If you’re a n00b like I am, a subtweet is a subliminal tweet — a tweet that obliquely refers to a person (or a senior society at Yale) without mentioning his name or tagging him in the tweet itself. It’s a way to very conspicuously talk shit about people, to have the sweet pleasure of hoping they read it, but to never actually get in trouble. It takes swag (the kind of swag I like) to subtweet. Hottiez, let’s subtweet togeth.

In light of Tap Week and Senior Societies (how odd it is that these archaic institutions exist, how peculiarly it structures this university’s social life, how strange of a spectacle Tap Night is, how accepted the transgressive nature of it all is — i.e., it’s probably illegal for someone to be “watching you”), I wanna take back Tap Week. I want to take back my voice in this process. I want to hear you take back your voice. I want to read not only some subliminal tweeting, but some subversive tweeting. I want to see you get raucous on your Twitters about Tap Week and Tap Night. (And I also just want to hear what your Tap Night is like, so pls tweet about it.)

Basically, this is a call to arms. Here’s some examples of the sort of tweets I’d like to see:

“Ugh so many body shots happening”

“Blindfold blues — get this shit off my face”

“am i in the trunk of a moving vehicle rite now?”

“I’m supposed to do WHAT on the woman’s table???!?”

“1st time in tomb tonight, declining my tap bc it’s fuckin ugly in here”

Please subtweet! Let’s do this big!

Earlier today, 2016′s Freshman Class Council proudly announced the first ever Yale Day of Relaxation, taking place this Thursday, April 4th (cf. an e-mail you probably received at 12:24PM, subject line: Yale Day of Relaxation).

In the email, the FCC says: “Over the last few months, we have been working hard to create what will hopefully become a yearly tradition: A day dedicated to mental health awareness, stress-reduction and relaxation.” A cumbersome sentence, but I like that built-in oxymoron — working hard to create relaxation — because contradictions always work for me.

I’m also excited to receive this e-mail because, as you may guess, I kill it at relaxation. I relax like it’s my job (another contradiction). In my room, I have a candle that has three wicks and I have a lot of bath salts. I’m happy that 2016 is on my level and that they’re bringing relaxation to all of us with a v helpful “Relaxation Schedule.” Here are some events I’ll be at, getting my very contradictory (but very great) organized, scheduled relaxation on:

Cookies and Coloring: 4 PM, Breathing and Relaxation Space (Welch Entryway C Basement, Old Campus)

Cookies — very helpful for relaxing. Coloring — very relaxing. Whoever came up with this event, please e-mail me. I’m feeling a connection.

Aromatherapy Workshop by Student Wellness: 5-5:30 PM and 5:30-6 PM, WLH 119

Aromatherapy is very important to me. Once in the 7th grade, some girlfriends and I burned so much incense that my friend Kynsey’s bedside table caught on fire. We poured Diet Coke on the flames and it started sparking, smoking, and flashing lights. Actually.

ALL DAY Facebook Fast, with “Write Yourself a Finals Week Letter”: 7 PM in the Chaplain’s Office

I’m confused about this, but I like it. I like thinking about what I’m going to write myself. Probably stuff like: “You are smart. You are beautiful. You are important.” and “Whatchu know ’bout me?” because affirmations work.

Yoga with Yogis at Yale: 9 PM, Silliman Dance Studio

Alliteration is shit I do like.

If you have a campus job, you know how sweet Thursdays are. So long as you remembered to log-in to your eTimesheets and submit your hours for the week, the Yale Student Employment Office sends you a nice courtesy e-mail every Thursday, letting you know that you’ve received payment for your hard work. I love that e-mail a lot. I usually go straight from opening that e-mail to my Amazon cart or (if it’s been a long week) bedbathandbeyond.com.

But I REALLY loved the e-mail that came from the Employment Office two days ago. It sounds like someone new is in charge of the e-mails. Usually, the subject line reads: “Payment Issued for Student Employment.” This week it read: “You been paid.”

HYFR I been paid. I also love bad b*itches and it’s my f*cking problem. Yale Student Employment Office is keeping it 100 and I like it.

The Harvard Gazette announced this morning that Oprah Winfrey, a.k.a. Oprah, will be the principal speaker at the Afternoon Exercises of Harvard’s 362nd Commencement later this spring.

I’m pissed. I’m heartbroken. I might have to take the rest of the day off, which I had half a mind to do anyways when I woke up this morning and remembered that I hate everything.

It’s hard for me to explain to you how important Oprah was to my childhood. I watched Oprah everyday with my mom, all throughout pre-school, elementary school, and middle school. I’ve read an embarrassing number of Oprah’s Book Club books. I own an embarrassing number of Oprah’s favorite things. At one point, I think I may have had a personal subscription to O Magazine. I once told someone that, someday, I hope to be Oprah’s assistant. Oprah turned me on to Maya Angelou. When I found out that Oprah bought the rights to Toni Morrison’s Beloved and sat on them for a few years, just so that she could eventually herself play Sethe in the 1998 movie rendition, directed by Jonathan Demme, I liked that. I told people I thought that was ballsy in all the ways I like. I think it’s a great way to spend a fortune. It inspired me to tell people that when I have my own talk show and multi-million dollar corporation, I plan on using my money to buy the rights to Catcher in the Rye just so that I can play Holden Caulfield. Get at me. I will sit on the rights for a few years and it’ll be great. This is America.

Harvard’s president, Drew Faust, seems to agree with me. She told the Gazette, “Oprah’s journey from her grandmother’s Mississippi farm to becoming one of the world’s most admired women is one of the great American success stories.” Indeed, it’s a success story that I love so much. Ugh.

Harvard, I hate everything about you and I hate that you got Oprah to speak at your commencement. R.I.P., all of my dreams. This is that shit I don’t like.

Tonight I sliced an eggplant down the middle, rubbed it down with EVOO and garlic, and baked it at 400 degrees for 40 minutes. Added cheese and halved cherry tomatoes when there was 7 minutes left on my iPhone timer. All served on a bed of mixed greens. The mozzarella kind of took over, but otherwise, decent eats. Not my favorite thing to do with an eggplant. Couldn’t eat both halves so I plan on cutting the whole thing up tomorrow and eating it on Wasa crackers.

What’s cooking? is a new series brought to you by the Yale Herald Webmaster. Stay tuned.

A raucous Bullblog shout-out to Lauren, Annie, and Carolina, three ladies who are reviewing restaurants on a blog they’re calling Chew Haven. I’m real into it. They begin their About section with, “we’re just three girls who like to eat.” I like that honesty because I also usually feel like I’m three girls who like to eat, and I’m only one boy!

Anyways, these ladies are doing some important work. And they’re doing all of us a real fatty of a favor. “We want to tell you all of New Haven’s food secrets,” they claim, and it’s about time someone helped this brother out. It also couldn’t have come at a better time, girls, because today I promised to never eat or tweet about another bagel from Blue State again. I’m ready to Chew Haven.

I’m most impressed by the number of restaurants these girls have covered so far––it seems I have my work cut out for me. They’ve also done some pretty curve-ball reviews, like Sababa (on Whitney, I’m going tomorrow) and a real spicy Indian Food Faceoff: Zaroka vs. Tandoor. I like that when they reviewed Basil, they called the post “Basil (Round 1).” They get me. They’re kicking ass.

I’mma bookmark this, I’mma see what they have to say about Shake Shack, and I’m gonna muster up Bullblogger swagger and ask these ladies if they’ll take me out to dinner. I have opinions, I’m also three girls that like to eat, and I’m ready to mingle.