Even though I don’t sit very front and center anymore (don’t worry mom, I’m still near the front), I still manage to observe bizarre things all over the classroom. If you know me, my eyes are constantly rolling, wishing I could blurt out something rude and sarcastic, but alas, I must pay attention in lecture. Fear not — I have saved them for you in Volume 4 of Front Row Views!
Someone in the front row tried to silently pass gas, hoping no one would hear them. They failed. Miserablly. The next 20 minutes of laughter were proof. #whatwasthatsound
My genetics professor just hit his own bum while pretending to be DNA polymerase. Hey. Whatever makes it stick in your noggin, bro. Also, now I’m scarred for life.
It’s an hour later since Sound Gate and my friends are still losing their minds. They are currently in the bathroom howling in the stalls. I need new friends.
Before our neuroscience final, my friend sitting two seats away was talking to me. Problem is that I can’t lip read. I guess I’ll just keep smiling and nodding. This can’t be important, right?
I decided to tell her I couldn’t lip read. After a quick laugh, she kept whispering to me so I went back to the good ole smile-and-nod. Hopefully I didn’t just agree to a night out.
A few guys behind us were debating the concept of chest hair, with one saying very adamantly that having chest hair is what girls like. My friends and I beg to differ.
We have a new rule where we can’t have water bottles with us during exams. My friend accidentally brought hers in and the proctor reacted as though she just smuggled illegal narcotics through the TSA.
The students from the British program are finally joining us on the island. They are all so kind and happy and optimistic. Oh you poor, poor souls. Welcome to hell.
I’m starting to like these British kids. We have a mutual pastime of picking on one of my favorite people, Queen B. I’m starting to like these guys.
Also, to Queen B (I know you are reading this): if THREE separate groups gave you a nickname, all different variations of ‘queen,’ it probably means you’ve been acting like a royal brat. Just sayingggg (please don’t kick me out of your kingdom).
A guy just played the most vicious prank on someone by switching two of his highlighter caps around so they would be mismatched. How dare he. He was very proud of his work.
The British kids have been here for a month and they are still cheery and loud. How do they maintain so much joy? Are we even on the same island?
I had to be tech support for four people and their TVs. I don’t know if it is because they actually trust me or because I’m Indian and thus remind them of a tech support center.
We have an intruder in the row. Do I ask him to leave or glare like a child? The answer is simple.
Ok so the glaring didn’t work. I guess he is here to stay.
Intruder seems like a nice person so we have accepted into our melting pot of brown people. He is now the third white chocolate chip in this multicultural cookie.
In class we were learning about physician boundaries and mentioned how hugging was a violation of said boundary. Clearly my friend missed that part because she is still hugging me.
Someone just came back from the States and was selling Taco Bell on Facebook. There was a bidding war. I almost participated. Almost.
The professor started to explain a dominatrix in great detail. So much so that I am starting to think this is all from personal experience. TMI, bro.
Queen B didn’t know what a dominatrix was and decided to look it up. In the middle of class. To say she was mortified would be an understatement.
Tonight I am studying for abnormal psychology by watching case studies of individuals with various personality disorders. The documentary? The Bachelor.
Our professor went from discussing the fear of elevators to sex therapy in less than two minutes. That escalated quickly.
To celebrate our one free weekend, we decided to trick Queen B into thinking we were drinking alcohol. The look on her face when she saw the ‘champagne’ bottle was priceless.