Ah, it’s that time of year. People are bustling in scarves and mittens on streets that are decorated for the holidays. And all the students are trapped in the dorms because it’s exam week! May I tell you, as a psychology/marketing/media student who slept for four hours, things tend to get a little loopy when the pressure’s on.
Imagine me studying for an exam that’s worth 100 percent of my social psych grade.
It’s not pretty. There I am, sprawled out on top of notes upon notes, clad in Wal-Mart Operation pajama pants, and there’s a knock at my door. It’s Russ, come to say hello because he’s knee-high in theology and wants a break. We discuss all subjects non-school related, ranging from “Murder, She Wrote” to childrens’ books. A few more kids from the hall have joined in and we’ve begun to play Hot Potato with rugby balls. I know, we’re strange and a bit sad. But it gets worse.
The anti-exam mania quickly escalates into a ten-person game of Bop-It Extreme 2. Which is Bop-It, with two extra functions. In addition to the Bop-It, Pull It and Twist It commands, you’ve also got to Flick It and Spin It. And if you make a mistake, you have to (gasp!) dance in the middle of the circle, without music(!!)! It’s the most voluntary embarassing dancing I’ve ever seen a group of people do without the assistance of alcohol. And in England, playing Bop-It does not make you a loser. It makes you a
British loser. Shut up.
But that got me thinking about all the quirky forms of entertainment here.
Some of them are Oxford Brookes-specific, as I’m fairly certain we’re the only ones playing Hot Potato. Because in my dorm, we’re all five-year olds. Anywho, here’s some things I’d much rather be doing than studying:
Watching soap operas, like “EastEnders” or “Holby City.” Although these British soaps don’t have as attractive casts as, say, “Passions,” the writing is about on par. Adopted women loving their non-related brothers and all.
Eating. Kababs, fish and chips, Cadburys, Paprika Pringles, Pot Noodles, my psychology notes, whatever.
Attending the “Love, Actually” premiere, which my study abroad friend in London did while I was riding Le Space Mountain for the eighth time at EuroDisney. She was THAT far from Hugh Grant and Colin Firth. Why me!
Catching my fifth cold this semester in the neverending, freezing rain. Ice-skating. Or falling on ice a lot.
Free-style dancing to JT with British Anthony, who auditioned for “Pop Idol” and was seven spots short of making first cuts.
Writing a study abroad column. Well, whaddya know! I got one. Let me add that it has been my great pleasure to use this column as my shameless, very public diary. Study abroad’s been a fantastic experience and I recommend it to everybody, because if I can do it, so can you. I wouldn’t trade my new friends or travel adventures for the world.