Staying Classy: How to survive your first day of higher education

So I wake up this morning to the beautiful aroma of whatever's stuck in these trash cans.

Sooner or later, I'm going to empty these, I swear.

But then, after telling myself to get out of bed and go down to the trash room, I remember something very important: I actually have classes today. Granted, they're all between the hours of nine and eleven, but clearly this is a very serious and important work day.

So I eat my frosted mini-wheats, make a mental note to buy dishwashing liquid, get dressed, change my shirt around a few times, and walk down to campus, singing 'Payphone' by Maroon 5 all the way. Luckily, I'm in the furthest dorm from campus, so this really only takes me . . . twenty minutes. The same amount of time it takes me to drive to Katherine Sheridan's house in Vienna. I miss my car.

I walk into Uris Library and ask the guy behind the desk where room G-01 is. He looks at me like I'm a total idiot. 

"That's in Uris Hall," he says, glaring out from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "This is Uris Library." I make a mental note to track down any living descendants of the Uris family and tell 'em not to donate any more money to Cornell as I walk up the quad to a slightly uglier building.

The auditorium is absolutely packed. I squeeze into an open corner of the back row, pull out my laptop, and start taking notes. Here's some of the things I learned:

• I need two hundred dollars worth of books
• Absolutely everyone in this class is a pre-med
• If happy ever after did exist, I would still be holding you like this.

After fifty minutes of the professor reassuring us this wasn't a weed-out class and reminding us that this is one of the hardest classes EVER, I slid quaking out of my seat and proceeded back across the quad to my introductory Spanish class, a language I chose on the basis of it not being French.

The classroom is almost totally full, and I'm forced to once again sit in the back. Not that I mind that. What I do mind is sitting next to a guy whose fat is spilling out of the seat and onto my chair. Trying to ignore him, I lean to my left as the teacher begins to lecture. She shows us pictures of all the TAs. Surprise! The fat guy sitting next to me is actually a TA!

Then, after she shows us the pictures, she has us all go through and try to name them. Since it's important to participate in one's first day of a new language, I raise my hand and volunteer to try and name the TAs. Naturally, my Spanish is horrible and I'm the only one in the whole class to get it wrong. The professor flashes me a look of pity and quickly turns her attention to the more gifted side of class.

I put my head down (to the left) and hope she doesn't call on me again. She doesn't.

Eventually, class ends and I'm free to go for the rest of the day. It may have only been two hours, but don't fool yourselves, people. Higher education is mouy hardo. I think.