Add/Drop period is a time of nearly limitless potential for Duke students. It is a beautiful epoch, when everyone can take whatever courses they like, designing schedules that suit their needs. Some students elect to pursue their academic dreams, taking only courses that engage and excite them, courses taught by dedicated and sincere professors. RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 38 admires this method, and thinks that this is a great way to get shoved in a locker and have your lunch money taken. Others pick their schedules according to some arcane and specific conception of the ideal schedule (e.g. no classes before noon, no classes on Fridays, no humanities courses on prime-numbered dates).
While these are both worthwhile methods, pretty soon Curriculum 2000 rears its ugly head and we find ourselves sitting through 75 minutes of "The Police: Society's Protectors or Just Sting's Old Band?" twice a week in order to fill our Ethical Inquiry requirement.
RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 38 has a better way to spend your Add/Drop time than futilely trying to get a good schedule. Simply put, amuse yourself by taking advantage of all the choices you have. Here are a few tried and true ways to make the first two weeks of your semester as laughable as your GPA will be a few months later.
Find someone you don't know and discern somehow what classes she is taking. This may entail following her around for a few days, but North Carolina's anti-stalking laws are considered something of a joke in the stalker community. You'll be fine. Once you know her schedule, register for all her classes. Here comes the fun bit: by attending all four of her classes with vastly different clothes, posture and speech patterns, convince her that you are quadruplets. This sounds more difficult than it is. I recommend the "Boy Band Method": use four of the identities from your favorite boy band. In Organizations and Management, you're "the quiet one." In Statistics, you're "the cute one." In Lit, you're "the bad boy." In Pubpol, you're "the Latino one."
Another amusing thing to do is to collect syllabi. RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 38 and her friends try to be the first to collect enough syllabi to graduate each semester: 34 credits, with the Matrix filled out. With 10 days of classes in Add/Drop, you need to average nearly 4 classes a day to complete your pseudo-diploma. This game is similar to the "license plate game," wherein you try to observe all 50 states' license plates while on a long family car trip, hating those stubborn Hawaiians for their refusal to drive on the mainland. Your collection of syllabi will make a great wall decoration, a conversation piece to remind you of your brief-but-enjoyable time in "Too Many Rookies, Not Enough Prose: The Decline of the Sports Memoir."
You can easily turn Add/Drop to your advantage, extending your vacation by a few weeks. Switch all of your classes at the last minute. You can't be faulted for your absences, so it's like having two weeks to do nothing: a fortnight in sunny Florida, in beautiful Washington, in centrally-located Nebraska. The only downside to this plan is that many courses have their first paper due shortly after the end of Add/Drop. For this, as for many other hypothetical problems, RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 38, has a solution. Write one paper to hand in for all your classes, in case it is needed on short notice. One title we've used is "Milton's View of the Arab-Israeli Conflict: A Graphing Approach." It helps if you write it in Spanish.
During the normal Add/Drop interval, you'll notice that the majority of students flock to the bookstore, schedule printout in hand. There they proceed to climb all over each other like neglected pet shop box turtles fighting over a leaf of iceberg to purchase any and every text required by their classes. Why be constrained like this? Instead of allowing your class to dictate your reading, try choosing the books first. Since books are potentially expensive, approach this endeavor economically. Plan your schedule by selecting the cheapest text requirements you can find. Anyone can shell out $300 for a full-color new edition orgo reader; it doesn't make you a man. But imagine your delight when you drop a crisp 10-spot at the service counter and walk away with 4 small paperbacks necessary to begin a semester anew, the worlds of knowledge contained within Salsa a Go-Go!: Latin Dance for the Muchachos or Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto: Styx Teaches You Japanese at your financially savvy fingertips. If any of your friends castigate you for taking irrelevant courses, open your wallet and announce loudly, "At least I've got enough scratch left over for the moonshine!" Even if you've never previously drunk moonshine, do so now.
If you find an interesting professor, take his class--simple as that. Finding the perfect instructor is difficult, however, so if you do strike gold, why squander the potential for a flawless student-teacher relationship by taking only one course taught by him? Enroll in any and every course and assume groupie status. Sit in the front row; paint your face or possibly your chest; make signs that profess your undying love for said professor's tutorial style. Proclaim yourself a "Bonk-aholic" or announce in class that "the Reynolds Price is right and I just want to come on down!" Sporadically shout phrases such as "Boo-yah!" and "Amen!" mid-lecture, and when your favorite professor assigns nightly reading, close your eyes and nod your head solemnly before concluding "the oracle was correct; the prophesy shall come to pass." Of course, if the professor ever calls you out for attending every class he teaches, simply look him in the eye and say, "As if I could stay away, you big galoot! See you at 11:20, 12:45, and 3:50."
You can amuse yourself and make extra money by simply enrolling in two sections of the same course. At the first meeting, sit quietly and listen carefully. Take copious notes and pay particular attention to how the professor describes the requirements, workload, and grading methods. Show up early for the second meeting and head straight for the front of the room. Pretend to be the TA and instruct the other students the same the way the professor did. Make copies of your syllabus beforehand as well as any other class handouts and distribute them to everyone. When the professor arrives, assure him that you have already "debriefed the troops." Professors love it when you take the initiative, they will admire your take-charge demeanor. And if the students ask you for an answer, tell them you would be doing them a disservice by spoon-feeding them. Remember, you're tough but fair. Then go back to reading Soap Opera Weekly, and wait for your checks to show up in the mailbox.
RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 38 looks forward to being your source for highbrow, intelligent humor this semester. Dick. Broad. Head.
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