As a seasoned, incredibly wise and profoundly mature rising sophomore at our beloved Miami University, I am officially done with the trials and tribulations of my first year. I’ve grown and evolved in the last three months.
Quite frankly, the only difference between the version of me arriving in Oxford last August, and the version of me returning this August, is that one of us has seen things. Consider this story as a warning if you will.
A new building to live in
This semester, I am being granted the absolute privilege of living in a newly “refurbished” residence hall. If I’m lucky, it’d have been built in 1915 instead of 1912. I’m just hopeful that my mini fridge will only make aggressive racecar noises five days out of the week instead of seven.
One thing that will thankfully remain unchanged, though, is the communal bathroom experience. There’s nothing quite like standing outside the showers with your plastic caddy in hand, waiting for one to open up. Then comes the unavoidable exchange with the person walking out:
Me: *Awkward smile*
Random girl: “Hey, haha.”
Fantastic conversation. Riveting stuff. Can’t wait to do it all year long.
Interacting with redbaggers
For the uninitiated, allow me to introduce you to the fresh-faced, incoming first-years who are actually using the complimentary Miami drawstring bags they received during their tours. We like to call them redbaggers.
They travel in tight packs of no fewer than 75 individuals, and their natural habitat is smack dab in the middle of your way on the sidewalk… walking extremely slow nonetheless. Somehow, even though they’ve only been on campus for five minutes, they still stare at you as if you’re the one in their way. Crazy, right?
As a sophomore, it is now my civic duty to sigh dramatically when they abruptly stop walking or ask where a building is, despite standing in front of a giant sign with the building’s name on it.
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The annual financial mugging
Let’s not forget about my absolute favorite time of the academic year: buying textbooks for the low, low price of a small suburban starter home. There’s nothing else I’d rather spend my hard-earned money on than an access code for a textbook I will actually need maybe twice throughout the semester.
The best part is when they tell you to wait until the first day of class to see if the book is actually necessary, only to discover that your homework is due that night. Not to mention, you’ll have to pay an additional expensive-ninety nine to do the assignment.
Higher education is so beautiful.
Legend has it
Oxford, brace yourself. I am coming back, and I am fully prepared to make the same exact mistakes all over again, only this time as a sophomore.
See you on High Street. Oh, and try not to bump into a redbagger on your way up.
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