Part of me was worried that if I snapped a picture, he would take my soul. Part of me thought, “Meh, maybe this is just a Halloween thing.” Part of me just didn’t care enough because he would be gone the next day.
According to a number of sources in a number of different locations across campus, the power just flickered on and off in Wiggin Street Coffee, Caples, Watson, Peirce and Olin Library. Peirce will be delayed for 20 minutes due to the power surge, and the Internet is out in a number of locations.
Oh hey, I didn’t see you there. Isn’t life just a mystery sometimes? One day you’re a first year, frolicking through the snow like some sort of young adonis, without a care in the world. And then suddenly, you’re a senior. You strike fear into the hearts of every underclassman you meet, and everyone seems afraid to so much as peep up about the dreaded word, “Comps”.
But let me tell you now, that the seniors aren’t here to scare you, little guy. Some majors will find love in the pages of an exam on Valentine’s Day, while others are working on research projects and presentations. Thus, if you have a conversation with a senior during these impending weeks and you wonder to yourself why one of their eyes looks bigger and twitchier than the other, the answer is probably that they have comps due soon.
Here is an informally compiled list** of majors and their comps due dates, so you don’t have to live in fear anymore:
As you can tell from the picture, there wasn’t much effort put into this message. But then again, you have to think of what it must have been like to write on the study carrel at such an awkward angle. In order for the writer to pen this message on the cubicle, they probably would have been leaning forward, maybe even sitting up out of their seat a little. Who ever wrote this, they had to have meant it. So I decided to do a little digging.
This post will be the first in a series of many where seniors recall all the things that have changed over the course of our time here at Kenyon.
Back in my day, first years had to walk fifteen miles in the snow to Middle Ground if they wanted their sweet potato fries. We frolicked like confused young sheep amongst the Bexley Apartments in order to crash an upperclassman party, and there was none of this KCard swipe nonsense to get into the library after 8 pm. In case you want to accuse me of being an old shrew, I will go ahead and tell you now that I revel in the curmudgeonliness that my senior status has given me. So now, I would like to take a look back at Kenster.