Syllabus Week – There is joy in its infamy. A light drizzle prior to the impending downpour of daily classwork, commitments, and responsibilities. As the hordes of students return to campus, they begin a week without care, in which beer cans and solo cups crowd dorm room desks, denigrating textbooks and notebooks to the role of coasters. It might be a Tuesday, it might be a Wednesday, but 9 a.m. classes and healthy sleeping habits will inevitably be disregarded. If it were a film, one might call it: The Silence of the Lounges. The concept of the weekend becomes obsolete, blurring the line between a good time, and all the time. Here is to pretending everything doesn’t matter for a little while, as if we hadn’t just had a month long break. College students tend to overextend, but no one ever said you could have too much fun. Well, maybe someone has, but they probably hate small animals and live in a cave in somewhere in Turkmenistan. Who cares what they think.
No Longer Destroying Your Family’s Data Plan – The freshman whipped out his iPhone as his Dad drove out of the gates to Upper Campus. As his thumbs pinned the screen, they entered the usual routine. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, repeat. Only something was different. The familiar pair of thick semicircles above a smaller triangle in the top left corner of his screen had been replaced by a posse of circles, some plump, others empty. Unknowingly, the freshman had sewn the seeds of his demise at family dinner that night. His habitual social media surfing was chewing through data faster than a beaver with a cocaine problem when given a fresh log. If only data could be replenished as easily as a tray of mozzarella sticks.
Sophomore Housing Lottery – March 14. Destiny day. Eight freshmen awake with hopes and dreams heavy in their hearts. They wait for the dreaded email, crowded around a single laptop. The freshman’s rhythmic clicking is the only sound that pervades the air as the group all stare intently at the screen. They’ve refreshed one, two, 27 times. Suddenly, an emboldened email appears at the top of the freshman’s inbox. It has come. Before they even read the message, two of the freshmen scream, and another faints in agony. One can be heard down the hall running to throw up in the bathroom. The bravest of the bunch takes a deep breath, and opens the message. He gasps, and slowly stands up from his computer. The others drop their heads, and begin to weep. The news is unspoken, but it is clear. Their dreams have been crushed, and now two of them must be excommunicated. They’ll probably select fainty and pukey. That was weird. Definitely don’t want to live with that.
Featured Image by Zoe Fanning / Heights Staff