of starting college into perspective - and offers tips and tricks of the experienced for next year. It happens every year. Once the first 10 days of school are over, gaggles of freshmen can be seen running around saying, "Jesus, what the hell have I let myself in for?" Well, picking on frosh is a poor sport, like shooting ducks in a barrel. They're little fish in a big pond just like we "big fish" upperclassmen were at one time. But just this once, I'm going to arm the ducks; I'm going to let the little fish in on a few secrets. OK, so you're going to college. We'll let a moment pass for all the sudden giddiness to well up and burst out of your veins. "I'M GOING TO COLLEGE! TO PENN, NO LESS!" Big deal. What do you think happens? Life is a fresh start? You think the "college experience" is what you've been looking for because you had to put up with high school garbage or immature little minds. You, of course, had grown up and away from that sort of thing. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but you'll find soon enough that this isn't utopia. We're not adults here, just kids a couple of years older. But look pal, you can't just stand around holding your sneakers and high school report card and wait for everybody to applaud because you made it here. This may come as a shock, but with just the least effort, you can work out a schedule better than any advisor. They have to deal with God knows how many frantic pre-meds, and they can't really know more about classes than you do. So that puts you in charge. Frightening, isn't it? Also, I don't want to say that the University has been padding its curriculum or anything, but I understand there is a Folklore course that examines the development of American music from 1940 onwards -- read "rock n' roll for credit." Add that gem to the various film courses (referred to as "Monday Night at the Movies"), Astronomy 6 ("Search for Extraterrestrial Life"), and "Chemistry, Alchemy and the Modern World," and you get the idea that college can be really fun. As an American Civilization major, I know. [Editor's Note: Am Civ was so much fun that the administration eliminated the department in 1994.] The Specifics: Never sign up for an 8 a.m. class. Never sign up for a 9 a.m. class. As a matter of fact, don't sign up for any class meeting before noon. Don't worry about any outside reading. Don't worry about any required readings -- too much. Simply learn to bullshit with confidence. Don't question any of your professors' fruitcake theories. You're not old enough yet, and everyone will think you're a smart-ass frosh, which, of course, you will be. Study, if you must, during the weeks of the semester, but not excessively. And besides, you've got three "reading days" during finals week to catch up on a semester's worth of lecture notes. The disclaimer at the beginning bears repeating: We're the overbearingly snotty, cliquish, small and mean-minded types you allegedly left behind. Except now, when you're disconcerted by new surroundings, we've really got you over the barrel. How can you tell who and what are on the level? Answer: You can never be sure. Even your older friend from home will ridicule you solely to gain laughs at your expense. It's tough, but then life's tough. The Rules: Women (and I shouldn't be revealing any of this), you are in the driver's seat. For this year only, however. Freshman women possess the enviable power to turn upperclassmen, graduate students and even professors to putty. Once branded by the stamp of sophomore, though, it's all downhill until you become seniors, the social lepers of the University society. Meanwhile, enjoy life while you can. By several days into the semester, if you haven't been out on five dates, hooked a steady boyfriend or had sex under the Button, hang it up. Guys, stay loose and wait for your turn at bat. Unless you are a jock of considerable worth or have gotten hold of last year's Econ exam, it'll be a long year. Frosh females are considered prime material for steady relationships by guys having that one impressive quality of older age, and it's rumored that Nabokov did some research here for Lolita. But while your female peers lose appeal, yours is building. And as a second-semester sophomore or first-semester junior, you should have a laughably easy time of it. Never wear your Kiss t-shirt. Ever. Not even as a joke. Try not to walk around in packs. I know, frosh seek security in numbers, but Locust Walk gets jammed up enough without impromptu cattle runs. Yes, it's cool to smoke anything -- even banana skins -- on campus, but don't try it in front of a Philly cop. These boys thrive on brutality raps. Don't take garbage from sophomores. They were freshmen last year, hated it and will never miss the chance to drive home the fact that they are veterans. Don't worry, though; sophomores are universally despised. Treat juniors and seniors gently, especially seniors. They are not well.
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