Let me preface with this: My study habits were not a driving force of my acceptance to this university or any other. To those of you out there who are able to rally the daily cognition to look at and make sense of letters on paper as they form words, sentences and paragraphs that have a purpose, I raise my glass. You are without a doubt more worthy scholars than I. However, in the unlikely event that you have some kind of aspiration to be like me, you're in luck. I bequeath unto you my fail−safe strategies for academic success.
PSY 1: Every day of my first college semester, my engineer roommate and partner−in−laziness would open the door to our room in Tilton around 3 p.m. Four times out of five, this was the scene she found: shade closed, "Planet Earth" blasting David Attenborough's soothing lullaby about seaturtles through the speakers and me passed out on my bed, face down on my open psych book in a semi−congealed puddle of drool. Studying for the exams went something like this: The hippocampus is a part of the brain associated with memory; I can remember that because hippos are large mammals like elephants, and elephants never forget, hence memory. Repeat for every key term.
EC 5: Rubbing my textbook methodically on my body the night before the exams in a hasty attempt to "absorb" course material and then sleeping with the book under my pillow in hopes that the Econ Fairy would take it away during my slumber and replace it with some form of applicable knowledge.
FR 21/22: Getting the books in English to study before the tests. Best $7 ever spent on Amazon. Professors were astounded by my uncanny comprehension and my ability to participate made me look like a total baller. I highly recommend.
ENG 2: Waking up at 8:15 for an 8:05 class. This was especially problematic because the class revolved around watching movies that started at 8:05 and played in a dark auditorium in the basement of Olin immediately after I was shaken from my REM cycle. Anyone who watched every film in full has only my most sincere admiration.
PHIL 33 (Logic): This class is tricky, but it's also hilarious. After doing my first problem set, I imagined how funny it would be if I dropped it on my way to class in the morning and someone picked it up. "Cats are fish. Trout are mammals. Sandals are sneakers." "‘A cat is not a cat' is logically false because there is no way a cat could be a cat and also not be a cat." Better sign up for office hours.
PS 41 (Western Political Thought): Honestly, I felt behind on the first day. Maybe I'm just an uncultured weenie, but I feel like extensive knowledge of ancient Western geography and Peloponnesian War leaders was some kind of pre−req... that I overlooked. I can dig some parts of the reading but I am convinced that other parts are names and places strung together incoherently as a mean joke. Agis, Damagetus, Myrtilus, Laphilus? Rhinoceros? I don't Giveacrapicus.
There you have it, scholars. My methods may be unconventional, but they haven't failed me yet. As I said before, to those of you who can perform so much as a simple synapse during homework, I commend and envy you. If I had the attention span to make color−coded flashcards and highlighted outlines for every class, believe me, I would. Alas, I lead a sad life doomed to goofing around and rubbing textbooks on my body. You can't win them all.
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Chelsea Stevens is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major. She can be reached at Chelsea.Stevens@tufts.edu.
