This morning I had a hair appointment with my amazing hair stylist Jamie. She dyed my hair blue again, blah blah you don’t care about the details. I then proceeded to the grocery store to get the ingredients to make one of my father’s favorite sandwiches because the AUBURN! game is on and heaven forbid if anything bad happen the day of the AUBURN! game then someone somewhere will surely die. Then I came home, spent a large portion of the afternoon with my brother watching The Big Bang Theory (an amazing show, but that is another post for another time). Later I headed back to campus, and as I turned onto the street before the street on which my parking garage sits, I passed a bunch of houses students rent out for the year. There were large groups of people walking here and there and I noticed the majority of girls in black shirts, jeans, and black boots. I thought nothing of it really; these bimbos don’t hold my attention for long. However, as I pulled into the parking garage I noticed quite a few more girls all wearing black shirts, jeans, and black boots. And that got me thinking. Is there some sort of event held where you had to wear a black shirt, jeans and black boots?
And THAT got me thinking about all of the random things that run through my mind on a typical basis. My university is quite peculiar, whether it be the signs posted everywhere for the appropriately named WOODY’S bar that is only open for men of the homosexual nature to signs saying “how do you know it was a good night if you can’t remember?” So here are some random observations about my university.
First let’s start off with the freshman. The freshman (girls mainly) do what we like to call “instabond.” The know each other for five seconds and are already best friends FOR LIFE. Give them to the end of the semester and I guarantee they will be exchanging measurements because, duh! They are going to be bridesmaids in each others weddings! You didn’t get the memo? After they have a few heart to hearts in class they will slowly drift apart and split up into smaller groups who are suddenly FURIOUS with the other group. Eventually they all hate each other and the next semester they do it all over again. It is a tragic tale that I am currently observing every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday in my French class. If you care to know the status, they just split into two smaller groups. Let the entertainment begin.
Next we have our bikers. No, I don’t mean the cool motorcycle bikers. I mean people who ride bikes from one end of the campus to the opposite end of the campus in a desperate attempt to make it to class on time while the rest of us only have fifteen minutes to get from Memorial Hall to Willard Hall and since we have shorter legs we practically have to run to make it to our psychology of education class. Or you know, something along those lines. Well these bikers are MEAN. They are so mean, that I don’t really think you can call them mean until you have been hit by one, but don’t worry! That should happen any day now. Obviously since I made up that rule, you can gather (correctly) that I have, in fact, been hit by a bike. His handlebar WHACKED my elbow while I was walking to class. And then there was that one time where I was walking in a perfectly straight line to class and this bike, coming from the opposite direction, just sort of decided he wanted to go where I was walking, even though he had enough room on the walk way, so he starts veering directly in front of me and I have to dash out of his way to avoid having a collision. Stupid bike people.
While the bikers are mean, they are nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING compared to our gems in student health. I think the term “mean as snakes” is too nice, and for once I am not exaggerating. The receptionists, nurses, doctors- all of them! Mean, mean, mean ladies. I try to avoid this building as much as possible, but sometimes I have to go and it makes me die a little inside. It is like they don’t want you there but they can’t really do anything about that because if we weren’t there they would be out of a job so they go out of their way to make us miserable, which isn’t really all that nice seeing as we are in student health because we already are miserable from being so sick. I went because I had to get a TB test in order to observe at a high school and I was really sick (going on two weeks) so I told the nurse and she was all YOU! YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR NOW! (Okay even I have to admit this was the nicest lady I’ve ever encountered there.) She completely disregarded the rules and got me an appointment with the doctor that day. Then I had to spend the next hour listening to every stinking nurse and receptionist and doctor tell me “DO NOT EXPECT THIS NEXT TIME. IT IS VERY RARE THAT YOU GOT TO SEE THE DOCTOR TODAY. IN FACT, THAT NURSE USED AN APPOINTMENT TIME SHE WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO. DO NOT EXPECT THIS EVER AGAIN.” After the eighth or so time of hearing this I was growing irate. (I was already extremely angry at the mean ladies, so irate is the next step in Lauren Land.) The doctor then said it for what would be her third time, and I could no longer hold back the irateness. I looked at her and said, “Oh don’t worry I don’t plan on coming back here. I have a normal doctor in town but I couldn’t get an appointment with her until next week and this has been going on for two weeks now so this was a last resort.” After that, she was quite decent.
Next we come to what I like to call the “Gap Ad Effect.” This happens during the start of school as well as the end when the weather is nice enough for the girls to hike up the shorts and wear as little clothing as possible. My university holds preview days for a few weeks and people from all over come to visit the campus and go on guided tours and watch us walk by and gawk at real college kids! During this extended period of time students crawl out of their hiding places and sit on the grass outside, strumming guitars, holding hands, gazing at the sky, playing frisbee, playing football, all in crisp clean (at least I hope) clothes. I kid you not when I say during these weeks my campus looks like a non-stop gap ad. It is hilarious.
Lastly we have the frisbee lovers. Now, I don’t know what it is about this place, but these kids sure do go crazy for a game of frisbee. I mean you can’t walk from one side of the campus to the next without seeing at least five different games going on (it is a very long campus). And these people take this stuff very, very seriously. There is a girl in my grammar class who is on the ultimate frisbee team, and you would think that this is some government operated mission that they are sent on. I can’t even begin to imagine the rules of ultimate frisbee. Are there any rules? I mean, how much harder can you make throwing a frisbee to a member on your team? I don’t particularly care for frisbees, in fact I sort of have a fear of them because at the end of senior year three of my classmates and I were in our school’s lunchroom and we were bored (my computer teacher let us out of class to go empty our lockers) and so we decided to play frisbee with Evan’s plastic tupperware container lid thing, and then Neil hit me with it STRAIGHT in my chest and it really hurt and he was really embarrassed but I was more hurt than embarrassed so now I have a genuine fear of them. And I was walking to class one day and these northerners are playing frisbee outside IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WALKWAY and there is no way on earth I can avoid walking past them because I chose to go left that day instead of going right and I’m forced to walk in the middle of their game and this huge white frisbee almost hits me in the head. Terrifying stuff I tell you.
And those, my dear readers, are some observations about my university.