Posts Tagged ‘dead week’

Finals week… Miley Cyrus style

Thursday, December 5th, 2013

A Stanford adaptation of Miley Cyrus’s “We Can’t Stop.”  This post brought to you by sleep deprivation, excess caffeine, and the letter S.  It’s way more fun if you sing along using Bastille’s British accent version.

http://thatssostanford.tumblr.com/post/19613206572/photo-michael-white-12-samraadeni-damn

Goin’ hard at Green. Photo credit: Michael White, ’12.

It’s our finals we can eat what we want
It’s our finals we can sleep when we want
It’s our Dead Week we can scream when we want
We can cram what we want
We can sing what we want

Flashcards and study buddies everywhere
Wearin’ sweats to class like we don’t care
‘Cause we came to get some work done now
Turn up the beast mode, suppress all the fun now

If you’re not ready to go home
Can I get a “Hell, no!”? (Hell no)
‘Cause we’re gonna cram all night
‘Til we see the sunlight, alright

So la da di da di
We like to study
Holing up in Green
Coding ‘til we see the sun
This is our life
This is our school

And we can’t stop
Cause we can’t drop [any classes since we’re past the add/drop deadline]
Can’t you see it’s we who own the night?
Runnin’ practice problems ‘til we get ‘em right?

It's our finals, we can sleep when we want.

It’s our finals, we can sleep when we want.

And we can’t stop
And we won’t stop
We Honor Code ‘cause we classy
Don’t steal answers from nobody
Yeah, yeah

It’s our finals we can eat what we want
It’s our finals we can sleep when we want
It’s our Dead Week we can scream when we want
We can cram what we want
We can sing what we want

To my home girls here with the big books
Tryna get good jobs and the big bucks
Never let the slackers judge ya
Forget the haters ’cause you’ll get an A-plus

(more…)

Bittersweet: Dead Week 2013

Monday, March 11th, 2013

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…

Need I say more?

Good one, Arrillaga.

Wednesday, December 7th, 2011

Intended as motivation for finals...?

I’m pretty sure I’m an involuntary participant in some sort of psych experiment right now.

All quarter long, the entrance doors to Arrillaga Family Dining Commons have been mysteriously difficult to use: some open one way and some don’t, and this usually switches from day to day.  If you’ve eaten at Arrillaga recently, chances are good that you’ve also tried a perfectly good looking door, only to find yourself looking like a moron in front of the impatient food-seekers behind you.  “Way to go,” their raised eyebrows convey, “you’ve only been opening doors for the last, what, sixteen years?”

For the past week, the doors have been emblazoned by rotating labels.  The first day they explicitly demarcated “pull here” or “use other door.”  Secretly gleeful, I proudly opened the door on the very first try and joined my fellow diners in a small happy-dance upon our successful venture.  But they’ve changed ever since, becoming less immediately user-friendly, and significantly more challenging for the running-on-empty-omigosh-it’s-Dead-Week brain.

What’s up with the sassy doors?  I have four theories:

  1. Psych 1 student having a little too much fun with his or her final project.  “I have to inform human subjects about their rights as participants?  Whaaaat??”
  2. Really bored Arrillaga employee.  There are only so many times you can arrange the salad bar according to John Arrillaga’s specific instructions (alphabetical, by last letter of county of origin, in French, in case you were wondering).
  3. Annoying publicity for some student start-up.  Note the QR code.  Not cool, kids.
  4. Blame Cal.

Top 13 Things to Make You Feel Productive When You Are Actually Procrastinating

Monday, December 5th, 2011

#1. Do your laundry. You can only turn your socks inside out for so long.

#2. Vacuum your room. Thoroughly enjoy the sound of all the little grainy particles getting sucked up through the tube.

#3. Download all of the updates your computer keeps reminding you about. Resist the reflex to hit “Remind Me Later”.

#4. Make/Confirm/Reconfirm your travel arrangements for Winter break. And Spring Break. And Summer break…

#5. Refill any prescriptions you might have.

#6. Create the perfect holiday playlist. Nothing rings in the holiday season like hearing “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” or “The Night Santa Went Crazy“.

#7. Find the perfect gift for that person who is impossible to buy gifts for.

#8. Figure out an exit strategy for when you run into that awkward ex over break.

No, you don't need a third glass of eggnog...

#9. Go to the gym/go for a run/do an ab workout. Armies of  gingerbread people are marching out of ovens as I write this. Here is my motivation.

#10. Buy/make stationary and/or thank-you notes. You’ll be needing them shortly.

#11. Call your parents/grandparents/other extended family. They love hearing from you and it has been a while…

#12. Download apps like Concentrate and/or SelfControl. Use them.

#13. Make a list of everything you have to do during dead week/finals and create a schedule for when you’ll get it all done. Starting… eventually.

Bonus! #14. Write a post for The Unofficial Stanford Blog. It works. Trust me.

And a Happy Dead “Week” to You, Too

Monday, May 30th, 2011

Searching like Dr. Livingstone for some time to get my work done.

Spring quarter seems to elicit a stifling set of canned interactions near its finish. We talk about our summer plans, remark on how shockingly fast the quarter has gone, ask seniors how it feels to be leaving, do our best to have a fling or two, and then, inevitably, lament the period that threatens to darken every drop of sunlight we enjoy: Dead Week.

Stanford students reserve a special place in their groaning repertoires for Dead Week, and this spring’s version promises not to disappoint. Those hoping for a respite from the typical stress mentioned above can take comfort in the fact that this “week” makes even less sense than usual: one holiday, two packed days of class, one study day, and then exams starting on Friday. We might as well be members of the Amondawa, an Amazonian tribe that according to American and Brazilian researchers possesses no abstract concept of time.

One would think that, under the circumstances, we might get a break for those two little class days so that we could concentrate on our finals. However, Dead Week is so prevalent in our study culture that the Registrar has developed specific policies to standardize its mayhem. Although such standard operating procedures might help during most quarters, they have now crafted an environment of insanity. According to the Registrar Office’s End-Quarter Policy Statement, which addresses the last week before finals, “Major papers or projects about which the student has had reasonable notice may be called due in the End-Quarter Period.” This means that, as is my case, one can have a major paper due on Tuesday and then a final term paper due on Friday in the midst of preparing for exams on the following Tuesday and Wednesday.

The end of the academic rainbow is within our reach. If only it could be this pretty.

No matter how “reasonable” the notice I receive happens to be, this situation is a classic example of an organizational process model revealing its human flaws. Other students may face much more daunting tasks than I, and there is little they can do about it other than complain to the Registrar’s Office, which is famous for dragging its feet in any official academic complaint. One could argue that a sensible student would have planned ahead for the crunch time. I would respond that I planned to the extent that I could, as I would in any other quarter. Unfortunately, this quarter gave me less time to do the same amount of classwork, along with an uptick in non-academic work as I sought, among other things, to secure a job for the summer. The most I could do was plan to be stressed.

So, instead of Dead Week, we now have a Dead Week time-lapse, complete with a new energy drink called “eVolv.” At least the primal scream will sound the same. Although I normally opt for the stoic approach, I may even participate this year, especially if some partially deaf aficionado of electronic music sits across from me in the library with erratic beats emanating from his or her earbuds. If we are loud enough, perhaps someone at the Registrar’s Office will notice.