Tag Archives: student life

My Snitchin’ Glasses

All law school lectures have officially moved online. The school uses Blackboard (like Google Hangouts but less fun.) It works well for the small, discussion-based classes; less so for big, lecture style ones. Professors expect cameras on and mics off. 

(My favorite situation came from my biggest class of 60+ students. The professor said, “If you cannot hear me, raise your hand.” Of course no one did. So he ignored all the pleas in the chat from students stating they couldn’t hear him because, after all, he did ask…)

Alas, already boring lecture-style classes do not improve when moved online. And the temptation to surf the web or do literally anything else while listening is so strong…

But I can’t. Because my glasses snitch on me. Presumably because of the way I angle my laptop and how I sit, when my camera is on, my glasses reflect whatever I am looking at. In lecture? You can see the slides. Flip over to Facebook? Suddenly my glasses reflect Facebook. Look at my phone? You can see it in my glasses

Realistically, what are the chances of the professor looking at my tiny camera when there are 60 other students and no reason for me to stand out? Minimal. But it doesn’t matter. My glasses keep me on the straight and narrow. And before you ask, it doesn’t help if I take them off. I can’t see well if I take them off. I already tried. 

It was a day.

It was a good day.

It was a weird day.

It was a three cups of coffee day.

It was a ‘I shocked my 25-year-old brother by sending him a meme with a bad word in it day.’

It was a ‘my boss decided he didn’t feel like working so he didn’t come in today day.’

It was a ‘I found out I got a job interview day.’

It was Friday.

(Also, it is not yet 5 pm?!)

Life of a Student

Me: * flips hair * “Yeah, I’m catching up with some friends for dinner tonight. We’re going to watch the Packer game.” 


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Apartment Tours

The carpet screams ’70s. The couch and dining room table look like they might be from the same era. 

“I provide all the furnishings free!” announces the chipper landlord for the fifth time in five minutes. “That’s mine…” he points to the large, tarnished lamp, “and that…” This time the cheap desk – a surprisingly modern-looking addition to the room. 

I smile and nod, trying to imagine myself in this ugly little space. Would a rug make the room more cheerful? Could I talk him into a fresh coat of paint?

“And this is the oven!” the landlord opens the little, brown box with a flair it hasn’t seen in decades. “Help yourself, help yourself.”

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to help myself to. The current tenant’s pots and pans? 

He moves on, pointing out the concrete ceiling and floor, the furnishings (he provides them all for free!), and the closets. 

“Help yourself! Help yourself!” 

The place is gross; grit and grime cover every surface not filled by the current tenant’s possessions. I wonder if it can all be blamed on the tenant. The room looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years. 

“I’m the owner and manager,” says the landlord, as if reading my mind. “I do all the repairs. I’m here twice a week.” 

Doing what? I think but don’t say. I want to like this place. It falls within my budget and comes with furniture so I don’t have to figure out buying and storing furniture for a semester. He also will let me sublease – a handy option considering I’ve decided to study abroad next year. 

I can put up with anything for 5 months. But do I even want to think about how filthy the couch is? 

5 months feels like a very, very long time. Good thing I have another place to tour tomorrow. I don’t have high hopes, though!