I don’t have much time. We don’t have much time. We sophomores have been working hard this semester to keep the Slump at bay. At times it seemed like we had even gained the upper hand. But alas, all of our progress might be for naught. The storm is coming. In fact, I fear it is already upon us.
Hurricane Finals, circa RIGHT NOW.
There is still time to escape, to save yourself before the tempest strikes. You can drop a class anytime before finals. I strongly urge anyone reading this to drop all of their classes IMMEDIATELY, and then walk in a quiet and orderly fashion to the nearest fallout shelter. There should be enough Spam in there to last you until junior year, when it will be safe to come out again.
Hear ye, hear ye! We at Blog present to you Listen Up, a bi-weekly Blogcast that will be bringing you the most sensational news from Brunonia. This week, we cover Providence’s latest hip farm to table restaurant.
Editor’s Note: BlogDailyHerald does not endorse any of the views expressed in the episode and does not condone the fictional actions taken.
David Sedaris, humorist and essayist, came to the swanky Providence Performing Arts Center Monday night for a reading of new and past works and a book signing. Sedaris is the author of the bestselling personal essay collections Naked, Me Talk Pretty One Day, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, and Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls, and also frequently contributes to The New Yorkermagazine and blog. With a stack of books and papers under his arm, Sedaris wandered onto the massive PPAC stage to read, teaching us a few things:
1. Tumors make good turtle food. Sedaris had a benign fatty tumor in his side called a lipoma. He had taken a liking to a particular snapping turtle, which had a growth on his head, near his house in Emerald Isle and came to the conclusion that he had to feed his tumor to the turtle. He went to a doctor who said he could take the tumor out, but could not give him any removed body parts due to Federal law. Sedaris had the tumor removed in the middle of the night by a fan who approached him at a book signing, who explained that while she was not a surgeon officially, she learned it for a year in med school. After his trip to her clinic after the show, Sedaris kept the tumor in his freezer for almost a year, as the turtles were hibernating. But, when springtime rolled around and he returned to Emerald Isle, Sedaris discovered that his favorite snapping turtle had died over the winter. Sedaris somewhat reluctantly fed the tumor to other turtles in the area, and they gobbled it up!
2. Sedaris is a local litter hero. As described in his 2014 essay in The New Yorker, “Stepping Out”, Sedaris loves his FitBit. When he first got it, he loved it so much that he started picking up trash on his long walks, upping his self-imposed litter-patrol shifts to about nine hours a day, around 60,000 steps, and about 20 – 25 miles. Sedaris shared that he once collected garbage for 30 miles in one day, taking him 11.5 hours. Sedaris has collected so much garbage around his village in West Sussex, England that the local council has named a garbage truck after him and he was invited to Buckingham Palace last May to meet Queen Elizabeth II.
It’s too hot. Now it’s too humid. Uh-oh, now it’s raining. During the first few days back on College Hill, students have aired a laundry list of complaints about a whole range of meteorological conditions.
And I get it. Providence weather is fickle, and some people find that frustrating. Humidity that causes you to break a sweat just by thinking too hard isn’t fun. Neither is a surprise rainstorm that pounces on you as you leave class.
But it’s worth looking on the bright side of things. The days are warm, and even at night temperatures are barely dipping below sixty degrees. On top of that, until today we’ve had plenty of sun. Things certainly could be worse. In fact, they often have been worse.
For those who are wont to complain about a brief afternoon shower, it’s worth remembering Superstorm Sandy, which turned Providence, and most of the Northeast, into a lake. And not a fun lake that you could waterski on or swim in, but an angry lake that flooded streets and would have happily ripped you out to sea.
In 2013, Nor’easter Nemo pounded across New England, dumping enough snow to break the spirits of even the most optimistic Dory-like students on campus.
Napoleon Bonaparte after a particularly enjoyable conversation at the orientation ice cream social, ca. 1812.
Listen up, First-Years.
As you arrive on campus you will be greeted with good wishes and encouragement. I was in your shoes only last year, so I remember those heady days well. But take my warning, friends, and do not let yourself be lulled into complacency, for hidden between the happy team-building activities lies the greatest battle of your life: The ice cream social.
“The Ice Cream Social?” You ask. “But that sounds like so much fun! Surely you are mistaken.”
I am not. To survive the evening of mingling and make-your-own-sundaes you must become a social warrior, raising a shield of vague responses as you charge through barrages of small-talk.
Agamemnon did not sail for Troy alone, and you should not show up at the social without a buddy. Pair up with your roommate, or anyone else that you already know a little bit. You and your roommate can cover for each other in group conversations by laughing at your own lame jokes and making references to your room (or any other commonality that you’ve already discussed). Battling through the social together is also a great way to bond with your roommate. Just ask the guys from Band of Brothers. [Ed. This might be a borderline exaggeration, but you’ll have to see for yourself!]