Senior Week schedule released

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Class Coordinating Board 2015 has released the details on this year’s Senior Week. Freshmen, sophomores, and juniors, take a look at all the fun that awaits you in the oh-so-distant future. Seniors, feast your eyes on the schedule for the last week of your Brown careers, and contemplate your impending mortality:

Friday, May 15

Commencement Kickoff: Pick up your cap and gown and the bracelets you need for all future Senior Week events.

Movie Night: Toy Story 3 + beer garden + snacks = pure happiness.

Saturday, May 16

Unit Wars: Will “Best Unit” Champlin knock off freshman year champs Wayland? Only one way to find out.

Time Capsule Reception: I’m not sure which is more terrifying: that our 25th reunion is in 2040, or the prospect of how much weird stuff is going to be in this time capsule.

Last Chance Disorientation Dance: Turns out CCB likes to facilitate Senior Scramble moves. Per the site’s description of the dance:

Through an anonymous online matching system, submit up to 7 seniors with whom you have always wanted a “last chance.” Then, on the night of the dance, receive an email notification of any matches (if you put someone who has also put you).

Yay for Brown ’15 Tinder! Oh, and it’s neon-themed.

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A brief guide to Senior Scramble

The dead of winter immediately after holiday sweets may not seem like the ideal time for romantic intrigue, but for some of the student body, bulky coats and indoor dates are going to have to do.

Snow suits

An outfit that could never fail to stir the heart

For the uninitiated, “Senior Scramble” describes the phenomenon that occurs when a student (hereafter referred to as the Scrambler) beginning their last semester of college realizes that they live in a place full of interesting and attractive people who are close to the Scrambler’s age and part of their social circle (if only loosely), and that this utopia will cease to exist for the Scrambler within five months’ time. In response to this alarming realization, the Scrambler must throw caution to the wind and act on any attractions they have harbored but never had the courage to pursue. Senior Scramble is a social adrenaline rush; the knowledge that you’ll never have another chance to talk to that unfairly attractive person you had a class with sophomore year is galvanizing. We can’t all be the cure for Alex Turner’s January blues, but we can do something about our own. Here are a few tips and recommendations to help you get in the correct mindset for this semester.

(Note: I’m assuming your crush is single, or that you have no knowledge of their relationship status at all. If you’re attempting to get Jessie’s girl, that’s an entirely different game. I don’t feel I can wish you good luck, scoundrel, but I won’t wish you ill fortune either.)

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Quarter-life crisis: To scramble or not to scramble?

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In light of the recent SWUG-craze, I’ve decided to prepare the underclassmen for another senior epidemic: senior scrambling. Most fervent in the spring time, when everyone is already wearing less clothing, the scramble does not discriminate. So what exactly is it?

Senior scramble (noun): The realization in one’s senior year that graduation is impending and you have limited time to DFMO at Whiskey, get some on the 13th floor of the SciLi/roof of the OMAC, or hookup with your classmates/teammates/TAs (Professors?). As a result, you act on your hook-up impulses. It is paired with a mentality that since you are graduating, you essentially don’t give a f&*k and will hook up aggressively with anyone and everyone you deem even remotely attractive. Usually a one-night endeavor, it does not include any sort of commitment, feelings, or attachment.

Can also be used as a verb: “I’m going to scramble so hard in Jamaica.

Although this phenomenon occurs at every school, Brown students unanimously use and are aware of the term “senior scramble.” (Note: if you tell your friends from home that you scrambled, they’ll probably say, “You ate scrambled eggs last night? What? That’s weird drunk food.”) Scrambling goes back almost as far as the tradition of walking through the Van Wickle Gates. So how do you prepare yourself for the upcoming scrambling that will inevitably occur during Spring Week? You simply go with the flow and stop caring. Continue Reading


Blog Odds: Brown Scramblers

Brown scramblers

Our school’s social activity online becomes increasingly weird and intriguing with each new outlet. First we took the step from innocent eyeing to full-on baring. When that got out of hand, we reverted to anonymously complimenting. We got tired of that, so we moved on to criticizing and eventually admiring. Now, as a new semester brings new possibilities of online entertainment, it looks like we’re about to start…scrambling? If you haven’t already, meet Brown Scramblers, the newest entry in Brown students’ eccentric online lineup.

At this point, the whole thing is still shrouded in mystery. The title alludes to the well-documented Senior Scramble phenomenon. The profile’s 515 friends (hopefully all Brown students) are currently staying tuned for the “Big Event.” Its “About Me” and cover photo make it unclear whether it’s referring to sexual exploration or eggs. It turned 21 last week.

We’ve heard a lot of the buzz and theories about Brown Scramblers over at BlogHQ, but we’re still not sure of the profile’s purpose or what this “Big Event” during spring is. Until we figure it out, we’ll enjoy playing the odds. Here are some of our best bets on Brown Scramblers’ endgame:

An event for sexually adventurous seniors to meet each other, make eggs, and make out upside down while wearing beanies- 3:1
The most sound bet based on data gathered from the Facebook page.

A Brown speed-dating event- 7:1 Continue Reading


Senior Week Musings: No one is over easy

“There can’t be any question: Things are weird,” Keenan says, nursing a battered roach. He lets a white cloud out of his mouth.

“And you know, it’s not like things will be better next Tuesday at 3:45 a.m. Next Tuesday is the day before Wednesday, which is when I have to contribute to society, and I can’t decide that Wednesday is my day and just ditch everything, drink beer,” I say.

Keenan sort of salutes me. I open my mouth to say something else, but then greet it instead with a pathetic nibble of cancer mixed with cannabis. I cough the word Yeah and it’s all I can muster; I talk too much.

It’s been a hard night out. I and the rest of the hooligans have come back home during the Dead Zone, the time between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. when everyone knows that he or she is fucked for slakin’ that hankerin’ for a bite.

I start cracking eggs. Keenan lets a white cloud out of his mouth; he’s rolled another one. “I don’t know, man, it doesn’t sound, you know, likely. Well, for you, anyway.”

“Fuck off.”

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