OP-ED: I’m a Shop(ping period)-aholic. This is my story.

To me, shopping period isn’t just two weeks of earnest belief that squeezing A Secret History of Toilets or Martial Arts, Culture, and Society in amongst the requirements for a dual concentration in APMA-CS and Classics is possible. No, shopping period is so much more than that. It is the only thing separating Brown from its preppy Ivy League siblings and crunchy northeastern Liberal Arts cousins. It is the very blood coursing through dearest Blueno, and I, my friends, am the mosquito suckling the sweet juices from that tender vein.

For mere mortals, shopping period begins on the first day of class. But, with the help of my trusty Excel spreadsheet, I have already planned my course(s) of action months in advance. Indeed, on Registration Eve, while the rest of you peasants are scrambling to get your carts in line, I sit calmly, quietly, like the groundhog waiting to emerge. And when I do, you know you bitches can’t help but stare in wonder and awe.

Three minutes before the clock strikes noon, I type in my credentials. When I hear the familiar, melodious chime of the DuoPush verification, I enter the Courses@Brown portal. Game on. 

From the comfort of my West-facing armchair in the Rock, I count the seconds out loud. 3, 2, 1! I hit “register cart”. The page loads. I hear the sighs of those around me who are still fiddling with their dual verification. I pray to the registration Gods that my page won’t crash.

And then, a rush. Instant euphoria as I see I have been placed in not one, not two, but FIVE courses, all of which are capped at under 10 students. Two Literary Arts seminars, a VISA workshop, Persuasive Communication, and Advanced Screenwriting. Though I have no intention of taking any of these courses, I am at ease knowing I am now guaranteed a precious spot in them, should I change my mind or major.

The first day of class is everything I imagined it would be. At Old-Time String Band, I relish in the stares of my classmates, all classically trained musicians, as I whip out my great-great grandfather’s hurdy-gurdy. There’s no time for lunch at the Ratty; by noon I’m headed to Intro. to Polish where I plan to spend only 20 minutes before racing across campus to catch the tail end of Abnormal Psych. Then off to Humans, Nature, and the Environment I go.

It is a sight as beautiful as the starry sky; students spilling out of classrooms for courses professors had no clue would garner so much interest. The 4pm rush has Literary Arts concentrators tripping over their vintage Doc Marten laces as they sprint to hand in their writing samples.

At 5 p.m., I bask in the comfort of my guaranteed spot in Advanced Screenwriting, watching as seniors beg on their knees to get off the waitlist so that they can fulfill the requirements needed to graduate. As a slip of oil-stained loose leaf paper is passed around the table garnering names to create a waitlist, I smile to myself.  

I can’t wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

Photo via. Ari Brown

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