By CHRISTO ELIOT
If you have ever read my column before, you probably understand that there is a basic recipe I follow: Describe some anecdote that may or may not have actually happened (couch burning and rape van? Real. Making things up on Wikipedia? Not real.) and then somehow try and tie it back to a larger — and usually clichéd — theme that is probably pretty obvious to basically everyone. (Sidenote: If you have not read my column before, you’re likely in good company but don’t get to read as many John Stamos-related jokes as you usually might.) If you have ever talked to me about the genesis of most of my columns, you know that I typically start with a sentence that I want to use and will build the entire column off of that. Sometimes, though, it is really tough to crank out 800 words based on a silly sentence I want to get published. Sometimes it is a lot easier to just type a bunch of them in a bulleted list and make it easier for you, my beautiful readers, to see what I actually want to say. With that said, here you go: an honest column about nothing.
Despite the incohesive nature of this column, I am a live person, so I’m going to end on a pro life tip: It is easy to look at your life and think that if your GPA were better, you had a significant other or you could grow a beard like you always wanted, your life would be better. In my opinion, that is unfair. Buddhist meditation master Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche defines maitri as “unconditional friendliness to oneself.” You’re kind of stuck with who you are, so rather than worrying about making yourself better by someone else’s standards, it is probably in your best interests to just befriend yourself. Or in other words, don’t let the haters get you down.
Christo Eliot is a junior in the College of Engineering. He may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. The Tale of the Dingo at Midnight appears alternate Wednesdays this semester.