Finals, BFD

It’s finals week.  Which means everyone has turned into big scary dragons.  And the first thing you need to know about Hogwarts is that you “never tickle a sleeping dragon.”  Coincidence?  I think not.  I’m not saying WAC is Hogwarts (‘cause that’s just outlandish).  I’m saying everyone turns into a fire-breathing monster.  Especially if you accidentally wake them up during designated napping times. 

I on the other hand, do not turn into a dragon.  I am a chilled out bunny hanging in the grass and eating some carrots.  And by carrots I meant left over peeps from Easter, I fucking hate carrots.

Here’s the thing about finals that people seem to not understand: they are just tests.  In fact, they’re just glorified midterms.  They just happen to take place all in one week.  You don’t freak out and scream when you have a French test one day and then an English paper due the next during midterm week do you?  No.  You just get it done. 

Why is it that everyone completely looses their shit during finals?  You’re given months notice, and then you have a whole week where maybe, you have one test a day, sometimes two.  And if you have more than three, you can change it!  Incredible!

Finals are built up in people’s minds to be this giant mountain that you can’t conquer.  Well guess that, you can.  It’s called CHILLING OUT.  It’s a test.  Do you really think you’re going to remember the grade out got on a Chemistry test your junior year of college when you’re 36?  No, you’re not.  I don’t remember a single grade I got when I took it in high school.  (But then again I went to progressive hippie school that didn’t give grades, but I digress). 

Finals will not determine your life.  And even if you fail, if you’ve done a pretty good job so far in the semester, you’re not seriously going to screw up your final grade outcome.  And if you do?  You’ll survive.  Your life is not based upon A’s and B’s or even F’s.  F’s, though scary and ego crippling, are learning experiences.  Maybe that astronomy class was not your strong suit; maybe math isn’t the major for you.

People on the street are not going to hand you report cards for how you well you can walk on a sidewalk or how well you did on your blind date.  (Just remember that no matter what you do, blind dates always end in F’s, they are complete bullshit).

So do what I do.  Study.  But not until you’re so tired you can’t keep your eyes open or until your brain hurts.  Just study, and breathe, and sleep.  When someone offers encouragement, take it.  Don’t say “YOU’RE DISTRACTING ME.”  Kind words go a long way and when someone offers support give it back.  We’re all miserable, so you’re gonna want your friends to lean on, not a pile of ashes that were once your friends but you burned them to a crisp with your fiery temper.

If that doesn’t help do what I do: think about summer.  It’s three days away.  Just get trough it.  You have a four-month reward waiting for you at the finish line.   

Room Draw

There are a lot of crappy things about college.  The lack of money, the food at the dining hall, that time where they increased laundry prices.  (I mean seriously, what the fuck).  But worst of all: room draw.  Now I know some time has passed since its occurrence, but I believe this time has allowed our minds to clear and we can look back on it with new perspective.  Actually, no.  It was still bullshit.

I’ve seen more people cry at room draw than I have at a frat party, and that’s really saying something.  Going to a quad party is like watching The Notebook and taking everything away except for the crying – by the way, I really hate that movie.  As in I purposely stole my best friend’s copy to save her poor and rotting brain.  At times I fear I was too late. 

Now, I understand everyone is not going to live where they want to live.  But I also grew up with the mentality of seniority.  You don’t take grandpa’s chair because he will beat you with his cane.  Or you know, he’s old and that’s the only chair that doesn’t hurt this back, but whatever.  The point is: you don’t take a western shore dorm if you’re a rising junior.  You do not deserve it.  I don’t care if you have enough class credits to make you a rising senior; you’ve still only been here two years.  Ergo, I have seniority.  I will smite you with my mighty fists of justice.  Or my Ecology in the Chesapeake Bay bio book.  Which by the way I did not open once this semester. 

Room draw is like walking into a den of lions.  You walk in thinking you’re a lion too but it turns out that you’re an antelope.  A soon to be very dead antelope.  And if you still don’t understand my analogy think of it this way: You’re Mufasa and room draw is Scar.  Oops, still stuck on the lion scenario.  My apologies if the Lion King reference made some repressed memories resurface.  It’s ok to cry, I still do.

One of the worst parts of room draw is having to watch the big red X cross out where you had planned to live.  But it’s still ok, you have plan two!  Only to watch plan two get the big red X.  Why’s everything gotta be red with you people?  Does my F on that math test really have to be written in red and then circled multiple times?  I’m kidding about having taken a math…and the F.  But wait, you still have plan three!  No, that’s gone.

It’s ok.  Just pitch a tent between Chester and Sass.  Don’t like camping for long periods of time?  That’s ok, there’s always Reid.  That gone too?  Well shit, back to Minta with you.  I’m just thankful that’s the last time I will ever have to endure that crap, and my apologies to those of you who still have some time left here.  Here’s one more analogy before you go: It’s like voluntarily boarding the Titanic even though you know it’s going to hit an iceberg and sink.  Had to.