For those of you who do not know what Hell Week is, I will give you a brief definition/description type thing. Hell Week occurs on a personal level whenever you are bombarded with tests/projects in a very limited amount of time, hence the week part of “Hell Week.” The general definition is very similar, however, instead of one person… It applies to 50,000 students and occurs the final week of school!
My personal Hell Week consisted of:
Monday – Gather myself back from Thanksgiving
Tuesday – Italian Commercial Project
Wednesday – Try not to have a nervous Breakdown
Thursday – Global Governance Final; Severe and Unusual Weather Final; Italian Play Project
Friday – Turn in Italian Play Review
So overall, not too bad. Sadly, some students were not as lucky as me. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. This is the week that it all comes together. This is the week when the party-goers realize that maybe attending class once a month wasn’t the best idea and the week that the PCL goes from being a library to a large home. It is a time when you do not mess with college students. I know in previous blogs I have mentioned the danger of waking up a college student. Well, I would say messing with a college student during Hell Week could be equally as dangerous. This is the week when coffee stocks skyrocket, energy drinks become more precious than oil, and don’t even think about buying flash cards… they sold out a week ago.
Some professors understand Hell Week and will give you a break. For example, I have had professors that did not have an in class exam the last week of school and instead gave it during Finals time. I have also had a professor that instead of giving a final gave us an essay that was due on the Tuesday of the last week of school. Which, you might look at this and say that there was an assignment due the Tuesday after Thanksgiving but I failed to mention that she gave us the prompt in mid-October. So some professors are willing to work with you during Hell Week.
Other professors, they just remind me of some kind of 90’s Nickelodeon show, where you see the kid in class and the professor just keeps dropping packets of paper on his desk, then the screen gets blurry and it all starts spinning. Okay, maybe that is a little dramatic but you get the picture. There are those professors out there. Those professors that make everything cumulative. Those professors that say, “everything that I have mentioned is important.” Those professors that don’t email you back when you have a question about a reading.
Oh, I just thought of my favorite part of Hell Week. (previous sentence oozing with sarcasm)
An interesting fact to note is that the final week of school is when you are allowed to give your Professor Review, Course Instructor Survey, etc. I am not sure of the technical name but it is where you get to review your professor with the highs and lows of the class, your expected grade, the course load, and then at the bottom you get to hand write a little blurb if you wish. Well, some of my professors that have the system figured out will give the course instructor survey on the Tuesday and then have their final on Thursday. Then when you get the final, it is the worst thing you have ever seen. It is asking for specific information from one article you read in one book that was discussed for five minutes in class for just one day. Or the final is so difficult that the “what is your expected grade in this course?” bubble that you filled out on the survey, you need to subtract about 20 points from it. The best part, there is nothing you can do. They have already gotten their surveys back and you wrote a wonderful review of how understanding they were or how balanced the exams were, etc.
Okay, I am off my soapbox. That has only happened to me once, where the professor gave a final that was a complete opposite to how the class had been the entire semester. I should assure you that most final exams are balanced and that if you attended class and put forth the necessary work you will do fine. Just manage your time wisely. Give yourself short breaks so your head doesn’t explode and remember that it is just a class, you can always recover from it.
Well, I have to study for one last final before break!
Ciao and Hok’em!
Questa settimana è stata la mia ultima lezione italiana che sono tenuti ad avere alle U.T. Ho emozioni constrastanti. Sono molto contento che sia finita e che non ho sottolineato più. Sono triste che non avtà più classe con le persone che divennero i miei amici e divertirsi con i nostri errori grammaticali. È stata una intensa tre semestri, ma ho imparato molto. Mi mancherà italiana.
To the world readers of this blog, I bid farewell to Italian this week. So I felt it only appropriate that I begin this blog with some words of Italian. For all of you native Italians out there, my Italian professors, my classmates who made higher grades than me (there were many); I apologize for any and all spelling and grammar mistakes. It took me quite some time to do just that, my original plan was the whole blog in Italian. Sheesh. You would have been reading this next spring.
Italian and I have had a very rollercoaster-esque relationship. I will now flashback to the early 2000’s and describe the relationship further. So I was at Disney with my family and friend Melis. Right off of the bat we got in line for The Rock’n Roller Coaster (you see what they did there, clever) and I was scared to death. Then we actually got on the ride and it immediately blasts off. It was a very intense and quick experience and I was just hanging on for dear life. We had some extreme ups, some crashing falls, and some of those flip/corkscrew moments where I didn’t know which way was up, down, or if I was getting close to meeting my maker. However, before I knew it, we were done! I loved it. I was addicted. (Now is where I say that I have ridden that ride with Melis over 30 times… I know, its shameful… but if you go to Disney, you better ride it!)
So, the selling points. I was scared to death. I was hanging on for dear life because we were moving so fast. I was completely lost and confused. I thought I was going to die. It was over and I loved it.
Seeing that when I first stepped into my Italian class, the only Italian words I knew were: spaghetti, wine, Olive Garden, mafia (most of which are not even Italian); I feel like I have grown and learned a lot. Heck, I can now make entire Italian sentences with only minor spelling and grammar mistakes. I call that success!
Arrivederci italiana! Grazie per i ricordi! Io ti ricorderò per sempre!
Ciao and Hook’em!