Attending BYU-Idaho for about three years now entitles me to a bit of credibility as far as asserting the campus that has occupied so much of my time; specifically, the library. I have lots of experience with all floors of the library, because I don’t have that one place I study. I am more like an annoyingly unsatisfied cat finding a place to sleep (not to my credit because I hate cats). I wander around all floors until I find a spot with (what I consider) a good vibe and then I choose a spot. Doing so has enabled me to make a few observations about the edifice of study that occupies the center of our campus. I have found that the library breaks down into three phases:
Phase 1: 1st floor. (International and married floor)
Phase 2: 2nd floor. (Angry big-girl floor)
Phase 3: 3rd floor. (Rexburg’s only bar…floor)
Phase one: First floor. Don’t use this floor if you are trying to meet people. Students who found their spouse on the third floor, have now come down to the first level because, now that the race to eternal marriage is over, they can actually start working on an “education.” Not to mention the fact that everyone else speaks a different language. If you are single and frequenting floor one, you are either a home-wrecker or fetish. The one exception: the back of the periodicals room. The greatest place to study, and to play into Clark’s undeniable Harvard façade he wishes we all would adopt. No Clark, you won’t find me studying two hours for every one hour I’m in class, or understanding what the "learning model" is, but you will find me playing “ivy league” in the back of the periodicals room frequently.
Phase two: Floor two is now one of my favorite areas to work. Not only does it provide a wonderful atmosphere, and computers turned away so that no one can see me watching episodes of Heroes between classes, but there always seems to be a big emo girl lamenting her problems to her obligated friend. (I’m going to go with Relief Society President in 95% of these cases.) Last week, as a large woman was interrupting Peter’s search for his identity on Heroes, I had no choice but to listen. She openly shared with half the floor the manor in which she stormed out of who knows where, “bawling” until she ate a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and felt better. So glad that has never been a part of my female experience. Even if it has, do we really need to go public with that embarrassing cliché?
Phase three: Anyone on floor three claiming to study is LYING. I’m going to go with 80% awkward Mormon flirting, 11% recruiting for summer sales, and 9% Gina loudly exclaiming that “she don’t come to the library to study, she come to party.” Clubbin anyone? I’ll meet you on the third floor.
And that sums it up. There are positives to all floors. Except of course the greenhouse-lobbies on the way to every floor. These should only be used for cell phone purposes only. Because, despite my other feline tendencies, I have never understood the appeal to curl up on warm sweater chairs and bake in the sun while I read and re-read some perfunctory chapter in a book I’m uninterested in. I’d rather cry into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Fine a gallon.
Phase 1: 1st floor. (International and married floor)
Phase 2: 2nd floor. (Angry big-girl floor)
Phase 3: 3rd floor. (Rexburg’s only bar…floor)
Phase one: First floor. Don’t use this floor if you are trying to meet people. Students who found their spouse on the third floor, have now come down to the first level because, now that the race to eternal marriage is over, they can actually start working on an “education.” Not to mention the fact that everyone else speaks a different language. If you are single and frequenting floor one, you are either a home-wrecker or fetish. The one exception: the back of the periodicals room. The greatest place to study, and to play into Clark’s undeniable Harvard façade he wishes we all would adopt. No Clark, you won’t find me studying two hours for every one hour I’m in class, or understanding what the "learning model" is, but you will find me playing “ivy league” in the back of the periodicals room frequently.
Phase two: Floor two is now one of my favorite areas to work. Not only does it provide a wonderful atmosphere, and computers turned away so that no one can see me watching episodes of Heroes between classes, but there always seems to be a big emo girl lamenting her problems to her obligated friend. (I’m going to go with Relief Society President in 95% of these cases.) Last week, as a large woman was interrupting Peter’s search for his identity on Heroes, I had no choice but to listen. She openly shared with half the floor the manor in which she stormed out of who knows where, “bawling” until she ate a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and felt better. So glad that has never been a part of my female experience. Even if it has, do we really need to go public with that embarrassing cliché?
Phase three: Anyone on floor three claiming to study is LYING. I’m going to go with 80% awkward Mormon flirting, 11% recruiting for summer sales, and 9% Gina loudly exclaiming that “she don’t come to the library to study, she come to party.” Clubbin anyone? I’ll meet you on the third floor.
And that sums it up. There are positives to all floors. Except of course the greenhouse-lobbies on the way to every floor. These should only be used for cell phone purposes only. Because, despite my other feline tendencies, I have never understood the appeal to curl up on warm sweater chairs and bake in the sun while I read and re-read some perfunctory chapter in a book I’m uninterested in. I’d rather cry into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Fine a gallon.
2 comments:
And this is why I love you Maggie. Your observations are dead on! Can you pleeeease put this in the scroll.
Maggie, made my blog its dedicated to you(ish)
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