How To Fail Your Finals Gracefully: An Urgent Letter From Your Exceptionally Well-Prepared Classmates

Hey there. Hi. Yes, you.

You, the person we’ve never seen in this class before. You, the one who tried to cram 7 equations and 168 pages the night before (160 pages because you skipped the real-world example blurbs). Let us introduce ourselves.

We are the members of the class that make up that 100-level distro you thought would be easy but woops you forgot at Northwestern every class is weed-out.  You may not know this but we hang out a lot. Where ,you may ask? Only every single one of the professor’s office hour session, and we haven’t seen you at a single one. In fact, we can’t even remember seeing you at one of the professor’s intimate home-cooked dinner parties either.

The Perks of Being a Wildcat

Dear friend,

I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in a couple of weeks, but I have been trying to “study” like my advisor said. It’s strange because sometimes, I read a textbook and I think I actually understand what I have read. Also, when I write notes, I spend the next two days trying to figure out what I have written in my notes. I don’t know if this is good or bad. Nevertheless, I am trying to study.

In terms of my grades in classes, I am trying to go to fewer social events that I get invited to at school. It’s too late to try and get any A’s or anything like that, but I still try to stay in sometimes and do the work I can. Things like the assigned homework problems that don’t count for points and actually reading the textbook, even if I don’t have a fucking clue what it’s saying.

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Dealing With a Terrible Roommate

I’ll kill you in your sleep.

Before I left for college, I had a heart-to-heart chat with my Dad.  There were many things that made me anxious, but my fears about my future roommate exceeded all others. I was terrified that my roommate would be a serial killer, a poltergeist, a hater of Harry Potter, or a fan of Fox news. Thankfully, none of those things came true. At least, to my knowledge. Although I did once catch my roommate, who shall henceforth be referred to as Phyllis, watching The O’Reilly Factor. But I THINK she was doing it ironically.