Chloe Logan
Hometown: Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
HC Position: Contributing Blogger, Keeping Up With Chloe
#DormFire
Those of you that know me know that I’m notorious for my daily nap(s). Well, South Quad also happened to be notorious for its false fire alarms last year. One day in the dead of winter, I was in a deep sleep around 1:30 p.m. when the fire alarm woke me up. It was our third alarm that week, so I just grabbed my down coat, slipped into the first pair of shoes I could find (flip-flops), and grudged down the hall. I wasn’t too worried—after all, I’d only be outside for about five minutes before my nap would recommence.
Twenty minutes later, I was still outside among the masses of South Quad residents when a couple of fire trucks pulled up. This was new—usually the RA just let us back in after they cleared the building. Fast forward another ten minutes, and we were allowed to go inside. Apparently, someone lit a candle and the curtain caught on fire. At this point, I was extremely annoyed—I had just spent half an hour standing in the snow wearing flip-flops. Luckily, I was not the only one who was woken up by the fire alarm (some people were still wearing pajamas!) and thus wasn’t the most embarrassing-looking person there.
After getting a few stares and chuckles for wearing sandals in the snow (and wondering if I’d have to go to UHS for frostbite on my feet), I never left South Quad for a fire drill without proper winter clothing again.
Dana Narens
Hometown: West Bloomfield, Michigan
HC Position: Contributor, Campus Celebrities
#MichiganTime
As I sat down to write this post, contemplating what to write about, I’d constantly come up with a great idea but eventually shudder with embarrassment or laugh at the ridiculous stories I could tell about freshman year. I knew for sure that the majority of them were not stories that I wanted to share with all the readers of HerCampus.com. Sadly, as a junior, freshman year seems like a lifetime ago, though memories from that year will never leave me. Personally, freshman year was a whirlwind of fun, a time where everything just felt so new and exciting, no matter if it was just picking out my books for my classes and waiting in the dreadfully long lines at Ulrich’s. I couldn’t wait to go to huge frat parties and meet new people; to really experience college. The one thing that I continuously kept forgetting throughout my freshman year was that I was here, at the prestigious University of Michigan, to go to class, to learn, and to get an education.
Repeatedly throughout that year, I had to remind myself:
Classes? What are those? Oh, right! I’m here to learn…So that is the reason why I tried so hard in high school? That was why I retook the ACT three times to get the best score possible! Interesting…
You may think that I sound like the typical college slacker, but I was actually the opposite. I was always doing things. I was just focused on working towards my social degree. Freshman year, I thought that it was my sole responsibility to meet the entire campus. The one thing that I was initially smart about was the way that I created my schedule so that I could maintain a consistent lifestyle similar to high school. I didn’t learn right away how to create a “masterpiece,” not just a schedule, which involves no classes before noon and no Friday classes. Luckily, I also soon found out that Communications is an actual major even though many think we do little more than talk in classes. JEEZ. #haters
I had classes Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 10:00-11:30 a.m., 1:00-2:30 p.m. and 2:30-4:00 p.m. Thursdays I had class 10:00-11:30 a.m. and 2:00-4:00 p.m. My 2:30 class on Tuesdays and my 2:00 class on Thursdays were in the same classroom, which, at first, seemed great. I knew I wouldn’t get lost. Being someone who is often “fashionably late,” I consistently utilized “Michigan time.” The fact that I could show up everywhere ten minutes late and still be on time seemed like a fairytale to me.
I loved to walk around campus with my headphones in and my iPod blasting“You Make My Dreams,” in my own world.
That said, one day (if I tell you which day now, it will ruin the story), I was casually enjoying lunch with a friend on State Street, cautious to make sure that I made it to my 2:30 class on time. But, we just had so much to catch up on since I hadn’t seen her since like…the day before…and I got caught up. I started walking, iPod on full blast, to my 2:30 class at 2:40 pm. I walked into a classroom of eyes staring at me as if I had just walked into the room naked. I still remember my GSI saying, “Hey Dana, nice of you to join us. Where were you?”
Clearly I was missing something, but I did not understand the situation and in an attempt to “save” myself, I said, “I’m so sorry! I just got caught up talking to someone on the walk here.” The class burst out into a roar of laughter. I still didn’t get it. I tried to ignore it. My two friends were staring at me in disbelief. I asked them, “Do I have something on my face?”
…I did not have something on my face.
I had walked into my 2:00 pm class at 2:45 and acted as if I was five minutes late. Needless to say, I now leave for class well before it starts. However, this experience was a great freshman wake up call and highlighted the importance of arriving on time, or at least attempting to. While we are allowed to be ten minutes late, forty-five minutes late is another story.
Moral of the story: Thank God for #MichiganTime
Grace Hawkins
Hometown: Oakland, California
HC Position: Contributor, Campus Cuties
#CaliforniaCultureShock
When I entered my tiny Markley dorm room freshman year, I could count the number of students I knew on one hand. I had never been to the state of Michigan before I visited campus as a high school senior, where I got a taste of game days during the Spring game and could not understand how my friend neglected to bring her jacket out on that freezing April morning. Thinking back on freshman year, embarrassing moments come flooding back to me. I could discuss the time I asked two guys to the same date party, or the history lecture I brought my dad to where he was called on by the professor. The embarrassing moments go on and on, but I think that my naive California preconceptions are much more entertaining.
Baffled by the Michigan natives pointing to their hands to describe the location of their hometowns, I realized there would be some cultural barriers. Numerous students asked if I had ever seen snow before, which took me by surprise after spending every winter break of my childhood skiing in Tahoe, California. Yes, it does snow in California. These slope-centered vacations probably lead to my first embarrassing misconception of my future life in Michigan–living with snow. I wanted to go to a snowy destination for my collegiate education, however, I assumed it would be like my experiences in Tahoe. I assumed I would have to wear snow pants to class everyday, an expensive endeavor I was saving up for. I also thought I would have to trek through two feet of snow, or keep my balance on long stretches of ice. I had this awful fear that I would slip and fall on my brand new laptop. On top of this, I believed all dwellers of the snow would stay warm and dry through the use of snow umbrellas. Snow umbrellas? Really? It made sense to me at the time.
The second embarrassing aspect of my freshman year involved issues of communication. My Northern California lingo left Michiganders questioning if they heard me correctly. Very few had been exposed to a “hella” good night, or going “hyphy” on the dance floor. Perhaps my “thizz face” scared a few frat boys, but I did not let it get me down. I still do not understand why midwesterners describe all effervescent beverages as “pop,” which is a noise, when clearly it is soda. My lack of Michigan language did get the best of me one day during Welcome Week. Freshman propaganda plastered my life, instructing me to go to “Meijer Madness.” I had never heard of this “Meijer” place, which I assumed was a Spanish restaurant, pronoucing it like my high school Spanish teacher would have instructed– “Meh-hares.” Approaching the cute boy in my hall, I asked if he too was attending “Meh-hare Madness.” He looked confused. “Meh-hare, you know, that big event for freshman. Meh-hare!” Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “You mean, Meijers?” pronouncing the store name in its intended way. “No, Meh-hare’s. It’s spelled M-E-I-J-E-R.” He just laughed and stated that I must not be from Michigan.
Looking back, it is funny to think of these thoughts that went through my mind. I have learned so much since freshman year, but if you see someone walking through the snow with an umbrella, I still think it is an ingenious idea that has yet to catch on.