December is here, which means that the quarter is almost over and Christmas is fast approaching. The sad thing is: I wouldn’t have even remembered Christmas was coming if it hadn’t been for those spam emails alerting me of every “door-busting” deal out there.
A friend once told me that, in an attempt to shame people into saving water, her summer apartment-mate suggested that they each “clock in” and “clock out” of the shower. Needless to say, the idea was quickly vetoed. “Read receipts” for Facebook Messenger remind me of this invasive, military-like idea — with timestamps displayed on your messages, you automatically feel pressured to respond more rapidly.
Once again, I will be bumped down to the bottom rung of the ladder: Out of all of my apartment-mates, I will be the last to turn 21. My roommate will be reaching this milestone birthday in a few days — even my Forever-Lazy-wearing apartment-mate will be able to buy a celebratory drink at Porter’s Pub after her last final.
Two Thanksgivings ago, while most students were at home diving into freshly-roasted turkeys and swapping stories with their families, I found myself staring across a restaurant table at two complete strangers I had just met at a bus stop. We didn’t even entirely speak the same language.
If there’s one place on campus I hate, it’s Solis 107. No, it’s not because of some past dispute with a professor over getting a B+ instead of an A-, or because the clock there sometimes lies that class is over when there are still 10 minutes left — it’s because of the chairs. I cannot bring myself to sit on them.
Either I’ve been thoroughly missing out over the past two years, or UCSD students just excel remarkably in creativity. “UCSD Confessions,” created last week, is a Facebook page that posts students’ anonymous confessions, which are submitted either through SurveyMonkey or email. But, I am finding it hard to believe many are entirely true.
In elementary school, someone told me that if my hand was bigger than my face, I had cancer. Falling prey to this line is akin to excessively heeding the “experts” who report that all things good and normal in this world are potential cancer hazards. You’re just setting yourself up for lavish panic attacks.