Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

In defense of Greek Life...and of Dartmouth

Dartmouth has got some problems.

Eight months out of the year, the weather kind of sucks. The new meal plan is all but highway robbery. The administration is often unresponsive to student concerns. The college laid off 76 workers to cut the budget but then proceeded to needlessly redecorate Baker Main Hall (before / after)and install a bazillion flat screen TVs in the newly-renovated dining hall (most of which display only one or two alternating screens...why not just get signs made?!). Most of these issues are only noted by members of the Dartmouth community, but recently one of Dartmouth's bigger problems has made headlines.

I'm talking of course, about hazing.

After Andrew Lohse's article in The Dartmouth was leaked the night before its publication, it was simply everywhere. Jezebel, Gawker, and The Boston Globe have all run stories about it, and an exclusive Rolling Stone article was published today. So it's safe to say that everyone in the world now knows that Dartmouth is hellish hotbed of dehumanizing criminal activity. Down with the frats! Down with the Greek system!

Except wait. I've been in a sorority at Dartmouth for the last three years, and the horrors described in Lohse's article could not be any further removed from what my own Greek experience has been.

Look, I'm not saying that hazing is not a problem. It is. It's a horrible, ugly, pervasive problem and it is one that the Dartmouth community must solve sooner rather than later. Our Greek system is flawed. Our sexual assault rates are far too high. Let's be blunt: our campus has a reputation as an alcohol-saturated breeding ground for privileged dumbasses. And to be sure, I have met people in my time here who do such a good job of confirming that stereotype that they seem more like cartoon characters than real people. But the truth is that the majority of the people I have met at Dartmouth--and, more particularly, through my Greek experience--are kind, conscientious, thoughtful, driven, intelligent, community-oriented, and genuine.

Greek houses on Dartmouth's campus are not just bizarre underworld dens of debauchery and sin. Fraternities, sororities, and co-eds co-sponsor panel discussions and community events; they fund raise for different charities; they put on events for the campus and the community. Yes, some of these houses do have a much darker side once it's a Friday night or a big weekend. That's unfortunate, and I'm not going to pretend that Greek houses are all pure as the driven snow. To do so would be an insult to those who have been adversely affected by hazing or by the other not-so-admirable aspects of the Greek system. The atmosphere surrounding Greek life certainly needs to change. But fraternities and sororities (and co-eds!) are not just one-sided forces of evil.

It seems that Greek organizations only get press when they've done something wrong. I've seen no major news articles picking up stories about AZD's White Rose Benefit, or APhi's Red Dress Gala, or Tri-Kap's holiday parties/carnivals for local kids. When my sorority raised $3,300 for the prevention of child abuse last year (and the governor of New Hampshire issued a proclamation to be read at the event), it didn't make headlines. When we raised almost $3,000 this year for the same cause, I didn't see any bloggers patting us on the back for a job well done.

Last spring, when Dartmouth's eight sororities drafted a resolution that punished fraternities for ignoring assaults that involved either their brothers or their houses, there was no media firestorm. The article was picked up by a few off-campus publications, like Jezebel and the Chronicle of Higher Education, but no national news outlets were offering Panhellenic officers an exclusive interview deal. No one really wants to see houses taking a stand and combating the stereotype of Greeks as irresponsible, shallow partiers. The sensational stories, the ones that make people shake their heads and say "I told you so"--those are the stories that make headlines.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that this article is entirely wrong: the discussion about hazing is one that needs to happen. But it is not a problem that plagues only Dartmouth. It's not even one that affects just Greek houses. Hazing is a problem that is pervasive throughout our society, from adults right down to young kids. It goes hand in hand with bullying, sexual assault, hate crimes, and other acts of violence. It is one symptom of a larger problem in our society--indifference. Indifference to the feelings of others, indifference toward the consequences of one's actions, indifference even toward one's own self-worth or self-respect.

And this is perhaps one of the things that upset me the most about this article: the way it portrayed Dartmouth students. I'm not talking about the ones involved in this whole hazing scandal, or even those involved in Greek life. I'm talking about the thousands of undergraduates who weren't exclusively interviewed by Rolling Stone.

True, most of us have never struck a deal with a major media outlet to dish on our Dartmouth experiences. But just because we haven't managed this feat (yet...?) doesn't mean that we don't have anything to say. Because if I could choose one word to describe the Dartmouth student body, "apathetic" would not be it. In my nearly four years at Dartmouth, I have discussed the College's many problems in a variety of contexts: in classes, at dinner, over drinks, and even in sorority meetings. When a violent or demeaning event occurs on campus, student initiatives often spring up even before the administration can respond. This could easily be read as a damning statement on the College's administration (and maybe, in some ways, it is) but it certainly isn't a condemnation of student activism. The people I know here care. They often care even more than I do myself, and let me tell you, no one in my life would describe me as apathetic about social justice.

But the part of the article I found even more ridiculous than the alleged apathy of the student body was the needless attack on freshman trips. Dartmouth's pre-orientation program consists of (completely optional) five-day long trips into the wilderness. The trips all end up at the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge, which is owned by the College, where members of different trip groups all come together and meet each other. Pretty innocent stuff. Not if you're Rolling Stone, though:

This is a Dartmouth tradition, where students hike, kayak, mountain bike or otherwise explore the White Mountains for a few days, winding up at the Dartmouth-owned Moosilauke Ravine Lodge, or the "lodj," where they gather for a communal dinner, followed by song-and-dance routines, and they are even asked to sit on the floor and listen to ghost stories.

Wait. You're kidding me! They're EVEN ASKED TO SIT ON THE FLOOR AND LISTEN TO GHOST STORIES! The nerve! You know what else freshman are EVEN ASKED to do? They're even asked to wake up before 10 am to attend Matriculation! They're even asked to get involved in campus activities! Would you believe it, these kids are even asked to show up to class and turn in work for grades! What kind of a toxic environment is this?!

Look, my freshman trip was fun at the time. It's not the shining memory for me that it is for some people, and I'll even grant that Lohse has a point when he remarks that "[t]here is a very specific message you get on Trips...which is 'We're all your friends, you're part of this awesome new world of Dartmouth, and if you're not having the absolute best time of your life, then there's something really wrong with you.'" Yes, the tagline of Trips could be "OMG, you guys! Isn't this just SO FUN?!" but honestly, I doubt that freshman orientation activities at any other school are really any different. You're trying to get a bunch of eighteen-year-olds to bond with each other. You're going to have to play some of those awkward ice-breaker games that everyone hates, but it's a bit of a stretch to call that hazing. From the perspective of someone who's been through Trips, this unnecessary digression did nothing more than weaken the article's argument and trivialize the ACTUAL hazing issues on campus. Serving freshman a Green Eggs and Ham-themed breakfast is not a crime. Eating a "vomlet" and eating some scrambled eggs dyed with green food coloring are two completely different things. And, in the interest of setting the record straight, I ate green eggs (but no ham) two weeks ago at a Saint Patrick's Day brunch. Quick, alert the presses, I've been hazed and I want to share my exclusive and heartbreaking tale!

That last snarky sentence aside, I don't want to comment on Andrew Lohse personally. I don't know him. I can't tell you anything about him other than what I've heard from news stories or word of mouth. He might be an upstanding crusader for justice; he might be the devil himself. Experience has taught me that he, like most of us, probably falls somewhere between those two extremes. Whatever his life story, I'm not really interested in him. I'm interested in the issues he's raised--both the legitimate and the non-legitimate ones.

At the end of the day, Dartmouth has its problems. So does any other school. When I graduate in a few short months (!!!) I will not be planning my immediate return to Dartmouth. I'll never be the alum at all the football games, hanging around town, partying on Frat Row. (Yes, there are alumni that do that. It's a Dartmouth thing, I guess.) Basically, I'm done with Dartmouth. It has not been the greatest four years of my life. But despite my problems with Dartmouth (and, as you can tell, I do have a few), it would be unfair to pretend that my time here has been miserable and unproductive--quite the opposite is true, actually. The Rolling Stone article is terrible PR for Dartmouth, but what's worse is that many of its accusations and implications are largely unfounded or grossly overexaggerated.

Dartmouth used to be the Ivy no one remembered. Now it's the one that will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. And for a school that, despite its problems, has so much to offer, that's truly a shame.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Abridged Timeline of my Finals Preparation

9:45 am: Wake up.
9:50 am: Realize that "the little tickle in my throat, probably from the room being too dry" is actually my second cold of the term.
10:45 am: Have roommate change my facebook password to help me avoid the temptation to procrastinate.
11 am: Errands
Noon: Research
1:45 pm: Take break from studying to watch roommate have a hilarious finals-induced breakdown centered around the word "punchy."
1:47 pm: Get camera to record the remainder of said mental breakdown.
2 pm: Work
2:45 pm: Realize that I missed yesterday's deadline for an important piece of financial aid paperwork. Call home to incoherently blubber apologies and beg for forgiveness.
3:25 pm: Go into hallway with roommate to send Slinky down the stairs.
3:26 pm: Stairs are too wide. Go in search of more suitable stairs.
3:28 pm: All stairs in building are too wide. Damn this grandiose dorm architecture.
3:30 pm: Build makeshift stairs out of books and boxes of cake mix for sole purpose of watching the Slinky walk down them
3:35 pm: Disassemble Slinky stairs, go back to doing more work
5:38 pm: Order Indian food
5:40 pm: Shower
6:38 pm: Food was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.
6:39 pm: Food is here!
6:40 pm: Have awkward conversation in hallway with food delivery guy vis-à-vis how much I will be tipping him today (too much, considering the fact that he was late)
6:42 pm: Inhale naan and aloo mattar sitting sprawled out on the floor, since all table space is taken up with books, research materials, and empty cans of iced tea (not mine).
7:00 pm: "Time to get back to work!"
7:05 pm: Play "Eye of the Tiger" to psych self up
7:07 pm: Epic "Don't Stop Believin'"air-guitar/sing-along session with roommates
7:09 pm: Roommate's friend enters, is enticed to join in
7:10 pm: Okay, seriously, back to work.
8:30 pm: Sinking feeling that none of research is relevant to paper topic
9 pm: Nope. Not at all.
9:15 pm: Study break to cheer up!
9:45 pm: YOUTUBE!!!
9:55 pm: Back to work. For real.
10:19 pm: BLOG!!!
10:39 pm: Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap, another 20 minutes wasted.

Did I mention this thing's due Monday?

I hate finals.

Friday, October 22, 2010

My mind is a pretty weird place.

English notes 10/22

The Canterbury Tales: The Wife of Bath's Tale
Wife is actively trying to find her voice
- But she is forced almost necessarily to draw on all the preexisting discourses that shape her because that's the language she has at her disposal
- Has to give a sermon in defense of her idea of marriage

Turns around one of the fundamental tropes of antifeminism by accusing her husbands of lecturing her when she's drunk (it's all a lie, though).

Wife as proto-capitalist subject --> understands her life and position in the world as fundamentally economic and based on consumption
  • She desires because she lacks, and she lacks because there's been a "cut" of some kind (symbolic castration)

Prologue, line 509: Middle English "glose" = gloss, interpret. Her fifth husband knows how to read her/interpret her, and that's why she's attracted to him

DAMN IT, IT IS SNOWING OUT. WE ARE DIGRESSING ABOUT THE SNOW. I AM WEARING LEGGINGS AND A CARDIGAN.
oh, no, wait. it's stopped. thank the lord.

but SERIOUSLY. there are still leaves on the trees.

okay, back to work.

but it was just so FUNNY. an entire room full of people got distracted and prof was like, 'what?' and someone said, 'snow,' and he went, 'oh, well, you know. new england.' and then told us how when he moved here from LA he thought snow was "volcanic ash falling from the sky." ha.

NO, IT IS STILL GOING. WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG. bad hanover. bad. snow is only pretty between thanksgiving and new year's. everyone knows that. except skiiers. but they're crazy. they strap sticks to their feet and whiz downhill at speeds that no unaided human should ever achieve. crazy. we shouldn't use them as our authorities on desirable weather.

i can practically hear this snow taunting me. "wee-hee, i'm a little snowflake, i'm here a month early! not for any real reason, since i'm not even going to bother to accumulate, i'm only here to freak you the hell out about how it's almost winter and another year is gone by and you're still broke, single, and lacking definitive direction in life! tee-frickin'-hee! aren't i adorable?!"

no, snow, i hate you. with your stupid mickey-mouse-y voice and the taunting way in which you swirl outside, as if you're circling me going, "c'mon, take your best shot. oh-oh-OHHHH, missed me, suckaaaa! i'm SNOW, BITCH. y'all can't touch this!"

whew. coast is clear. yes. a good long stare out the window has proven that the sky is barren. ha-HA, sky. HA. HA.


language of choice = attribution of sovereignty to old hag that rewards knight's fantasies ROGUE FLAKE SPOTTED. okay. we're good. we're good. that's right, RUN AWAY! i will break out my roommate's hair dryer and BLOW DRY you, fools! y'all will MELT!
--> tale consists of wife's fundamental fantasy: man listens to his wife, and then she gets to be young and beautiful again.

male fantasy rather than female fantasy? --> why does a wife who is both true and beautiful have to be a fantasy at all?

possible sighting: it was either a distant leaf falling or a close up snow flake. i'm gonna go with leaf for my own sanity.

?!?!?!?!

Monday, August 2, 2010

Cette petite écolière n'aime pas son travail

So here I am, studying in the library, ostensibly because "I can focus better here." Hogwash. I've just found other ways to put off doing work, including...ba-ba-da-BAAA!! blogging. (That was my trumpet fanfare. Just so you know.)

I have to admit, the library was pretty effective at first. There's no one here to talk to, so there's no way for me to read something interesting, comment on it to whoever happens to be nearby (usually Madison, poor soul), then launch into a long verbal reaction that ends up only vaguely related to the original topic. So, with that being the case, I did manage to power through two chapters of engineering reading (and all the comprehension questions associated therewith), along with a three page paper analyzing a primary source I looked at this morning in the Special Collections library for my WWI history class. After that, however, I started on my paper for engines--an analysis of the History Channel documentary (if you could call it that) Life After People, which you'd think would be right up my ally, being that I haunt the TV listings for interesting History Channel programming (often in vain, I might add, seeing as the History Channel seems to be more interested in airing ridiculous shows with ridiculous names, such as Pawn Stars, instead of actual historical programming like The History of Sex or The Dark Ages). But anyway, it's not that Life After People was bad. (The show, not the concept in general. I'm not a huge fan of the general concept of a life without human beings.) But yeah. It wasn't bad. But I just don't know how to spin a five page paper out of it that doesn't sound like a book report.

I took a study break to go get some water and a ciabatta roll from Novack and then came back up to my seat in the Tower Room, which I'd clearly staked out by surrounding it with roughly 50% of my earthly possessions, including my laptop, my tote bag, my notebook, my Chinese calligraphy midterm project, my engines book, my charger and its supplementary extension, etc. I then proceeded to uphold my resolution to "jump right back into work" by checking blitz obsessively and looking at my iCal again to see if I'd almost reached the end of my blocked-out library study time. (Nope, I'm here 'til five and it's just past four. Darn.) Then an engineering stroke of inspiration hit me and I banged out a paragraph of my paper. So far, so good. Then ANOTHER stroke of inspiration hit. Unfortunately for my productivity, it was a blogging-related rather than engineering-related stroke of inspiration, so here I am.

I wouldn't say that this particular turn in my library time has been devoid of accomplishments, though. For example, I did use the word "therewith" for quite possibly the first time in my life, and most certainly for the first time in this blog. (In any blog?) So things are getting done over here. Just not the right things. You know how it is.

So I should really get back to my Life After People essay. And I should probably try to finish it with as few references to the [cock-and-bull] theory of Rapture as possible, since it's probably not terribly relevant to whether or not the Golden Gate Bridge will rust and fall apart in one century or two. But it's gonna be really hard not to. I mean, in the show, the humans just DISAPPEAR! They leave their housepets locked in the house, their cars in the middle of the street, their alarm clocks set. Where did they GO?! For a special that claims not to be concerned with how humankind came to disappear, Life After People pretty tantalizingly dangles a bunch of unspoken morbid possibilities just out of reach. And come on. People want the morbid stuff. That's why we watch horror movies. And Access Hollywood.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Dear Lord, I love the English language.

So. Today. C'etait pas mal. But it certainly wasn't good either.

Class lasted forever. FOREVER. We got there at ten and didn't leave until quarter of four, except for our hour-long lunch break. I went with five other people to a little café. They all got croque monsieurs, which looked delicious. (For those of you not familiar with French café food, a croque monsieur is a buttery ham sandwich with cheese melted on the top, served hot. It's probably the only sandwich you eat with a knife and fork.) I got a cheese sandwich. It was Swiss cheese, which is probably one of my least favorite cheeses, so that wasn't so great. But the bread was DELICIOUS. Toward the end I contemplated just eating the bread and leaving the cheese, but I didn't know if that would be some kind of terrible French faux pas. Oh, well.

After class, I went to the store (I forget the name, but it was a super-store type: clothes, groceries, cosmetics, stationary, etc.) to get notebooks and folders for class. After that, Amanda and Kelly and I went on an unsuccessful quest for chocolate. (I know, you're saying, unsuccessful? In France? How can that be? Well, I didn't want to pay like €4 for a piece of chocolate, that's how.)

I returned home, once again struggled with opening the front door, managed to open it this time, and gracelessly blundered into the apartment to find that there was company. I probably made a fantastic first impression, what with my hair all crazy from the strong wind and my face all red and sweaty from power-walking from the opposite end of the Presqu'île, but whatever. At any rate, I went to my room to do some work. That was, oh, four hours ago, and I still haven't managed to accomplish much in the way of homework. To be fair, some of that time was taken up by dinner. The company I mentioned earlier included three young kids who are staying here through next week. They're really cute, but they totally own me in terms of the French language. (Sorry, Nicole, if you're reading this. I know you hate that phrase - "in terms of" - and I totally didn't use it on purpose, I swear.) The oldest, Edgar, corrected me at dinner. It's depressing and inspiring at the same time - depressing because this nine-year-old speaks both French and English and can correct my French grammar, inspiring because if he can by bilingual at the age of nine, then by God, I can accomplish it at age 20.

The two girls are younger and SO CUTE. I was sitting in my room doing work and they came in to see me. Brune, the six-year-old, was enjoying making the cursor move on my laptop, and she was having a ball when I let her type letters onto my desktop stickies. (If you aren't familiar with Macs - hi, Mom - stickies are like virtual post-its on your desktop.) Anyway, Brune was loving that. She also seemed to enjoy asking me who the people were in the pictures on my desk. Meanwhile, Olympe (4) climbed right up next to me on the chair, and both girls recited their full names for me. It was adorable.

As far as improving my French goes, I'm still trying. At Corinne (my host mothers)'s suggestion, I write down new words every night - sometimes things I heard during the day, sometimes things I wanted to say but didn't know the words for, and sometimes things I just find while flipping through the dictionary. It's come in handy a couple times already, but my reading last night nearly doubled the size of the vocab list and I can't remember half of the words. Or, worse yet, I see a word and realize that I know what it means, but for the life of me, I can't remember. Of course, then I just look in my notebook again, so ce n'est pas grâve, I guess.

This weekend (Easter weekend), I'm traveling to the south of France with Kelly and Amanda, two other girls in my group. (Amanda is actually one of my sorority sisters; we were in the same pledge class.) It sounds like my family in the States will be having nicer weather, though - the forecasts for Arles and Avignon call for rain and temperatures in the 60s. Temp-wise, it's not bad, but the weather could be nicer. But the forecast has said rain for the past three days, and while it does rain hard at times, it's just cloudy for most of the time and sometimes the sun even comes out (sometimes at the same time as the rain, which is what happened this afternoon. I looked for a rainbow, but no luck.). Either way, it's gonna be roughly ten degrees warmer than Lyon, and I can definitely get on board with that.

Unfortunately, it's looking like pretty much all the hostels in Arles are booked up, what with it being a holiday weekend (a long weekend here in France - we get Easter Monday off. Hooray for Catholic countries!) and Arles being famous for its bullfights (particularly its Easter bullfights, I understand). We've got Friday and Saturday covered, but we still need one for Sunday night. Got any ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

I'm not sure how I feel about the bullfights. It would be cool to see one, I guess, but I'm pretty sure I'm morally opposed to them. Plus, I don't want to make Amanda go by herself (Kelly's not sure she feels up to seeing the bullfights, either). But still, moral opposition is a pretty legitimate trump card, right? It's why I've gotten away with not trying any meaty food here.

Besides, Amanda says that the Arles bullfights don't kill the bull (which I definitely would not be able to handle), but still, the idea of antagonizing some animal just for fun...I don't know if it's something I can get behind/monetarily support (with my €16 admission fee).

Arg, it's 23:03 (11 pm). I should really get to work on my grammar homework and then go to sleep. As a reward for getting through another day without any major incidents, I'm going to allow myself to read one chapter of my book. I was reading 2-4 chapters a night, but I realized that at that rate I'm going to run out of fun (read: English) books really quickly. So one chapter it is. I doubt I'll stick with it. I was thinking of maybe trying to find a French translation of a familiar English book in a librairie (here, a librairie is a bookstore and a bibliothèque is a library) and reading that. It would be educational but kind of fun, since I'd already have a basic idea of what I was reading and I wouldn't be getting graded on it.

And my English books are pretty much the only bedtime chill-out activity I have these days. Journal-writing is more of an exercise than a relaxing activity now that I'm journaling in French, and it takes me so long to look things up in the dictionary (yes, I'm old-school, no online-translator journaling for me - I learn better this way) that by the time I've done all the set-up for the anecdote I'm about to tell, I'm too tired (lazy?) to finish up. And then I proceed to read four chapters of my book. Bof.

Anyway, that's why I'm really liking the blog right about now. It's a nice outlet for my feelings/thoughts and a good record of my time in Lyon (more dependable than my journal, considering how terrible my French is). But now I really need to get to work, since there's only an hour left in the day and I still have some grammar work to do. (It's not a heck of a lot, but I should probably get started on my Thursday reading as well. And we still have to find a hostel for Sunday night. And I need to get back to Amanda about the bullfighting. Argggg, too much to do, too little time!!!)

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

An Update for Kelly

Things I Suspect My Upstairs Neighbors of Owning, Based on Noise Level Generated
1. An anvil
2. Bowling balls (yes, plural)
3. Clogs (the big honkin' wooden Dutch kind, not the hippie Birkenstock kind)
4. A dorm-room-sized Mack truck
5. Many trophies recognizing the resident as International Foot-Stomping Champion
6. A pet elephant/rhinoceros/yeti.

Things My Upstairs Neighbors Will Soon Own If They Don't Knock It Off and Go To Sleep Already (For Pete's Sake, It's Two in the Morning)
1. Several mildly threatening notes
2. An ice pack for the black eye they don't have...yet.
3. My high-heeled black pumps (since I assume they won't give them back after I hurl them through the doorway and run).

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down

Today sees the introduction of a new feature to this blog (possibly the only feature on this blog) entitled Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down. It's pretty self-explanatory.

THUMBS UP: I finished my Jewish studies paper and my proposal for the final paper.

THUMBS DOWN: I have a history paper due Monday at 10 am. I haven't really started it...ish.

THUMBS UP: But Monday at 10:01 will be the most glorious moment of my life, after which I only have my final Jewish studies paper as far as intense assignments go. And that'll be much easier than my history paper.

THUMBS DOWN: There are approximately 3 days, 17 hours and 51 minutes between me and the sweet glory of 10:01 on Monday.

THUMBS UP: Some people's bodies respond to stress by losing weight.

THUMBS DOWN: My body's response to stress is, "OMG!!! Eat your feelings!!! Look! An OATMEAL CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!!!"

THUMBS UP: It was a really good cookie. Mrs. Fields...mmmm.

THUMBS DOWN: The sheer amount of work I have to do precludes my going to the gym to possibly feel less guilty about eating said cookie. Plus, there that whole "lacking endorphins when I most need them" thing.

THUMBS UP: My prof gave me a lot of good tips on paper-writing when I went to his office hours today.

THUMBS DOWN: It was totally intimidating hearing about all this stuff I didn't know to begin with.

THUMBS UP: Amrita did a project on the same topic in high school and she has offered to be my sounding board/editor of sorts.

THUMBS DOWN: WHY AM I SUCH A PROCRASTINATOR?!

To sum up: kiddies, no matter how quickly you usually work and how much you usually procrastinate, DON'T anymore. Or, if you must procrastinate, comment and let me know that you have been similarly screwed over by a class assignment (read: yourself).

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Odes to College Life (So Far)

I'm feeling poetic today, so I figured I'd go back to my true literary calling: haikus. I did them once before (about working at the MB) with great success (honk honk*), so why not do some more?

(*the sound of me tooting my own horn)

Of course, I haven't worked at the Basket in, oh, four weeks on account of the fact that I now live two hours away from it, so I needed to find a new topic, and that new topic is college living. So, without further ado...

Ode to the Drunk People Outside
I know you like beer
I know you like to party
But I want to sleep

Ode to My MacBook
It took me awhile
To learn how to copy/paste
But it's all good now.

Ode to the Weather
When I don't have class
Sun shines. When I do have class
I walk in the rain.

Ode to Drill
Seven-forty five:
"Parlez français avec nous!"
Shoot me, s'il vous plait.

Ode to My Mini-Fridge
You make weird noises
But you hold all my junk food
So I love you lots.

Second Ode to My MacBook
I procrastinate
But now with my new MacBook,
I do it way more.

Ode to Febreeze Extra-Strength Spray
Without you, Febreeze,
My dorm room would still smell like
Dust and sweaty feet.

Ode to My Parents
I love you so much!
Life's not the same without you!
Please send more money!

Thursday, September 18, 2008

The Joys of College Living

1. My college ID picture is far more flattering than my drivers' license picture.
2. Free food everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
3. Free stuff, too - key chains, magnets, pens, clips, mini flashlights, drinking cups, bags, tee shirts, condoms...you name it, someone is giving it away.
4. With the miracle of mini-fridges, one never has to make the grueling walk from bedroom to kitchen in the middle of watching TV.
5. New MacBook!!! (Fun fact: My MacBook's spellchecker keeps telling me I'm spelling "MacBook" incorrectly, which is funny because I just copy it directly off the logo under the screen that says "MacBook.")
6. Skype! (Although this is also a downside, because if all my friends and family were still around there would be no need for Skype.)
7. Always something to do. I usually opt to go chill in my room, but should I ever feel the need to play pong at 1:30 in the morning, I could.
8. I can drink orange juice straight out of the carton (and not just when it's almost gone...today I opened a brand-new orange juice - Tropicana, the only good kind - and unapologetically drank it straight from the carton. Sorry, Mom.)
9. Added perks for me: giant room to myself in a quad with a common room and full bath. My suitemates are all wicked nice, too.

Now, if only I could figure out what to do about those pesky classes...