Alas, you've made it. Your 'rents are gone, you're already sick of Broward Dining and you may or may not have thrown up in your pillow case last night. (R.I.P. Fall 2006; I haven't eaten pad thai since.)
Welcome to the University of Florida. The Princeton Review was wrong in naming UF as the second-most raging school in the U.S. You (and your liver) will soon learn this.
But despite our penchant for parties, we Gators know how to study. Or, at the least, we can cram like hell. The following is a list of rules to live by during your four (or five) years studying at UF.
I know you're probably not 21, but that's okay. Neither am I.
Rule 1: Keep a day planner.
This will prevent you from feeling like a dumbass when you get to your Age of Dinosaurs class and realize you have a quiz. Unless, of course, you are a dumbass, in which case you shouldn't be at UF.
Rule 2: Don't sleep. Seriously.
Cramming from midnight until 5 a.m. for tomorrow's exam? Well, you can't call it an all-nighter if you're not up all night. Keep your eyelids peeled back and grab a coffee at Deja Brew (oh, wait), or God forbid you wake up two hours after your 11:45 Law of Mass Communication exam. Ignore your pillow, even if its talking to you, and remember this advice: Sleep is for the weak (and the weekend).
Rule 3: Attend the exam review session.
It will likely be scheduled at an ungodly hour. (8 a.m. on a Friday? No me gusta.) Regardless, you should go. Or be like me, and wake up in fetal position at the foot of your friend's bed wearing a hot pink N*SYNC shirt that looked sooo cool the night before, wondering why you drank that Steel Reserve and what time you were supposed to be at your review.
My B+ in American History that semester would have been an A.
Rule 4: Go to class enough.
How much is enough, you may ask? Well, do you know your professor's name? What period your class is? No? Time to go.
Rule 5: Don't take too many online classes.
Initially, the pros of taking an online class seem to outweigh the cons. You can watch lectures in your underwear. You can watch lectures in less than your underwear. You can make your professor sound like a primordial dwarf hopped up on helium. But then reality sets in, and you have 12 hours to watch 24 hours worth of class.
If Tutoring Zone and a prayer can't save you come Nov. 23 (the deadline to drop a class; put that in your planner, too), remember you can chill like Snoop and drop it like it's hot.
Kristin Bjornsen is a journalism senior and Editor in Chief of the Alligator.
