Dillo Day. It’s that time of year in late May when it may or may not be snowing. The free pizza tastes great, but so does all the other shit you may or may not have eaten. One thing is so certain that even Heisenberg wouldn’t question you: if you are from around here, you’ll see all those people from high school you thought you’d never see again. You know, the kids who don’t know who Heisenberg is.

They’ll act all surprised to see you, which is strange because you go to Northwestern. You’ll say it’s nice to see you too and regret not sneaking in alcohol taped to your uppermost, innermost thigh like your friend did. (Friend. An interesting word, no? I think friend can be defined as someone you would be happy to see on Dillo Day.)

Then they’ll want to know where the alcohol is. You are stuck like a freshman scared of jaywalking on Sheridan. Of course you know where alcohol is, that is an inane question. It is Dillo Day. But you don’t want to lie. You’ve already lied once by saying you’re happy to see these numbskulls. You’re worried about karma — and unlike that kid from your high school, you still have finals.

You sigh. “Yeah,” you say, “just go up to the SigEp house and say Morty Shapiro sent you.”

You part ways. The spring returns to your step as you realize that if Nelly couldn’t ruin Dillo Day, your loser classmates don’t have a chance.

EVANSTON – On April 22, members of Northwestern’s Happiness Club dissolved their organization due to the 34 degree weather. For some context, it was 78 at Emory, 84 at Rice, and 69 at Vanderbilt at the time the decision was made. Just saying.

“It just wasn’t worth it anymore,” said former Happiness Club president Ben Ulman. “I don’t even know if there is such a thing as happiness when it’s grayer outside than the area in the Protess situation.”

The Happiness Club’s last event involved putting their yellow smiley face stickers on the ground as it rained. According to Ulman, they wanted it to look as if the smiley face was crying.

“Northwestern still has a lot to offer,” said former Happiness Club member and tour guide Alyssa Novasad. When asked to elaborate, Novasad paused, said something to herself that sounded like Parseltounge or Xhosa (it’s hard to tell the difference; both languages use clicks and trills), and then said, “Well, umm, half our student body doesn’t really like to go out.”

But the Happiness Club appears to be as dead as Nietzche, leaving a bright spot that… Oh, brightness! What I wouldn’t give for some warmth, for the smell of tulips in the soft summer breeze, the feel of hot asphalt on the sole. That, my friends, is happiness. I would join that club.

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony,” Ulman or Ghandi or maybe Novasad said.

Rain or shine, says Ulm… You know what I think? the rain is not God crying because He feels bad for us, but Him laughing so hard He cries at the notion that such smart people would actively choose to live in Evanston. When it thunders, it is God keeling over at the idea an educated group of mortals would choose to live this far from the equator when they could live in such places like Orlando or Mexico City or even Nebraska.

EVANSTON—Registration for Winter Quarter begins this week at Northwestern, and students are absolutely thrilled.

“I hate all my classes!” joyfully exclaimed Weinberg freshman D.J. Grunthel. “I’m tired of them and ready for new classes that I will learn to hate!”

Upperclassmen concur that classes never get any better.

“I’ve had my share of quarters here,” said Medill junior Sarah Shamara. “I can’t remember enjoying any of them. But I am super psyched for a change in my classes! There certainly is some truth to that old saying, ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire is what in college you shall acquire.’”

In addition to a new round of rigorous courses, students are also happily awaiting subzero temperatures, fierce winds, and an onslaught of ice and snow.

“I love Northwestern so much,” said Communications sophomore Daniel Tho. “I could have gone to school in California or Florida, where classes are easier and I could sleep and have a life, but I am just so happy here. Midwestern weather builds character, and a Northwestern education looks great on your resume.”

Daniel then proceeded to pull out his smartphone and post ten new submissions to fmylife.com.

CHICAGO—For you, I made it seventy degrees. Now you can wear that new skirt you’ve been waiting to show off since, oh, late August. I mean, seriously, that low cut is really cute and everyone is looking at you, babe.

What’s that you say an hour later? It’s raining and fifty? My bad. I can’t help but make it rain on them slightly flirtatious but ultimately shy NU girls. If it makes you feel better, I’ll throw in a little hail tonight.

Doesn’t it feel great to sit out by the rocks enjoying the sun while various couples make out around you because their love is too vast to be withheld inside and in private? I just wanted you to know how it feels so I can take added pleasure when I make it forty and raining next week. This is sadder than Kyle Rowley transferring from Northwestern.

You’re in my world now. If you don’t like it, you can move to Pandora. Oh, it doesn’t actually exist? That must make you clinically depressed.

There is nothing I enjoy more than giving you a taste of the good before I make it snow in April. Well, except for notifying the annoying census workers they will be jobless by the end of the year. That is something you can count on.

EVANSTON—Members of the Northwestern University student organization Coalition Against Climate Change announced today that they were “satisfied” to see the return of wintry weather.

“We are pleased and happy to report that the cold weather is back,” said senior Mike Daly, president of the Coalition. “You guys don’t understand how freaked out we were last week.”

Daly is referring to the flash of warmth Evanston experienced last week, when high temperatures reached mid-40s.

“Seriously, we were freaking out about global warming. I mean, it’s January. It’s supposed to be icy cold, not moderately chilly. For a while we thought we were too drunk to realize it was cold, but as it turns out, that had nothing to do with how warm last week was.”

Other members of the club shared similar sentiments of relief.

“We didn’t even need our thick jackets and mufflers. I saw a guy walking down Sheridan in a hoodie. A hoodie!” reported junior Wendy Frost, a member of the Coalition against Climate Change. “I’m just really glad to see all the people around with winter gear on again, especially those big, goofy hats.”

“I almost died last week,” said the snowman residing behind the Norris student center, an active member of the Coalition. “It was just too warm.”

However, not everyone on campus is happy that the frosty weather is back. Freshmen April Lim was overheard muttering, “I could have gone to Berkeley,” during a particularly strong wind gust.

The biggest loser in this entire situation seems to be freshmen theater major George Lebow, who mistakenly thought winter was over and sold all of his warm clothing in exchange for beer money. While Lebow will probably suffer the consequences of hypothermia, it is likely that he will not feel anything at all.