They're all I hear anyone talking about right now -- that last hurdle before summer. Holed up in bedrooms, libraries and study lounges, the student body is preparing for finals week.
They have notes (their own or another's), textbooks, open minds and an assortment of caffeinated beverages. No one seems to escape this fate: from those majoring in electrical engineering to wood products, from seniors more concerned with finding a job to freshmen yet to lose their naive sense of optimism and hope.
The campus has fallen silent as all turn to the noble pursuit of knowledge. That is, nearly everyone except for me.
I have no finals this semester.
I don't know if it's because my professors want the week off as much as I do, because the other class work I did (and didn't) do was sufficient or because half of my classes are single credit courses.
Still, it's an odd feeling. I'm certain I'm losing grasp on a portion of my sanity. I'll find myself in my dorm's study lounge, holding a book upside down and scribbling illegibly into a notebook in a desperate attempt to conform. My body, too, is telling me I should be stressing. In the middle of the night, I'll awake in a cold sweat, thinking I slept through my accounting exam. Then I realize it's 3 a.m., pause for a moment and decide I want Pokey Sticks.
The finals process is a natural part of the college experience. After relaxing all semester, it gives students a chance to completely flip out for a week before heading home for the summer.
To compound the problem, all of my friends have abandoned me for their studies, and frankly, I have no idea what to do with myself. You can only play so many hours of Rock Band by yourself until your fingers start to cramp, and two marathon viewings of Freaks & Geeks is about all I can take.
When I call them up, no one seems to have time to play a round of ultimate Frisbee or sit outside the dorm listening to Craig Mack on my Sharp GF-777z, Fresh Prince style.
In spite of these setbacks, there is one gigantic upside to this whole experience: rubbing it in my friends' faces.
What? You have two finals on Friday? That sucks. I'd stay and listen to you complain, but I'd rather go watch this Viva La Bam marathon on MTV2. They're showing that episode where Margera gives his Lambo a sunroof with a chainsaw and Billy Idol is there too. It's so awesome.
Still, have fun studying for organic chemistry. I'm sure there's a chance you won't fail. Maybe we'll have time to talk when you realize you've ruined any shot you have at becoming a chemical engineer.
It may sound harsh, but come on, they're the ones who ditched me. And frankly, I'm disappointed in them. College is not about studying and tests and grades ¾ as the ever-wise Asher Roth tells us.
It's about other things: skipping class after a pointless all-nighter, selling your textbooks for tickets to see T.I. and painting yourself blue to stand out in the cold for four hours in mid-November.
I believe a key element in what makes all those "extracurricular" activities enjoyable is the escape they provide from the daily grind. If I really didn't want to worry about GPA's and exams, I'd have gone to a school like Hampshire College, rated as one of the top "hippy colleges."
At Hampshire, instead of grades, you get "narrative evaluations." There are no distribution requirements, so you can truly major in basketweaving. Best of all, you get to spend your free time protesting socioeconomic injustice around the world instead of, you know, that other stuff that happens here at Penn State.
If you happen to finish your finals early, or decide you're going to lose it if you read one more essay on Albanian history from 1912 to 1939, join me on the HUB lawn for some Ultimate Frisbee to celebrate your freedom to slack-off every once in a while --and so I don't have to keep playing all by myself.
It's really hard -- seriously.
