Not
my actual Baylor family (hey cousins and sisters!)… my Baylor family. Ya know, the kind you form through bonds of
disturbingly long/pointless essays, ridiculous group projects, and mockery of
professors. That Baylor family.
My
Baylor family was quickly formed through our wonderful world of middle school
math. We’re all a crazy bunch anyways… I mean, there were nine of
us in the entire University -- that’s gotta say something. Then,
of course, we went ahead and formed a smaller, clique-ier group within the
nine. We were kind of an eclectic group of people: a sorority girl, a definite
over-achiever, a military brat/sweetest person ever, the funny/witty sarcastic
one, and whatever kind of category I fit into… the athlete/all around fantastic
procrastinator? But I know, without a doubt in my mind, that I would not have
made it to graduation without this group of incredible girls.
We
have some ridiculous stories. Some are included in the following synopsis, but
this is for sure, not all of them:
We
should really begin by thanking our professors, because of them we bonded
through textiles. Without their apparel choices, we might not have started this
lifetime bond. Everything from corduroy duck pants to pleated jeans worn by our
favorite nerdy, male math professor. Let me be clear, this mockery is out of
pure love… I love those embroidered ducks and the old man that wore them;
seriously, we would beg him to wear them. The highlight of our nights would be
when the duck pants would make an appearance at the Baylor baseball games.
This, said, professor had season seats and we pretty much had season seats. We then decided we should have a
pumpkin carving contest, so we did. We got some intensely designed stencils and
ended with some pumpkins that hardly resembled anything close to the stencil,
but we bonded. Once you touch someone with slimy pumpkin goo, you automatically
move up a few notches on the friend scale. By the end of our sophomore year,
our friendship was pretty much solidified. Junior year brought on our study
sessions. Sid Rich (the math building) knows no study party like a 4-8 math
study party. We eventually got to the point where we just were not capable of
studying without Taco Cabana tortillas, queso, and guac. It = brain food, duh. I think
somewhere in this year is when “the picture” surfaced. Thanks to the witty one
and my notable procrastination we convinced the over-achiever to, at the last
minute, let us use her 5th grade picture at the end of a group
presentation. This was no ordinary picture. First of all it was 70’s theme,
secondly she had massive coke bottle glasses, and lastly it was one of those
pictures that you beg your mother to please hide or switch out with a new one
before your new significant other comes over because you just don’t know how
you would reasonably explain it to them. Once we had access to this picture it showed
up on every email, presentation, paper, group project we ever did
again…. Not exaggerating. It also started the phrase “peace, love, and 5th
grade [Barbra]” (the name has been altered for “pride” reasons) I might still
use that phrase today. We spent hours upon hours in the basement of Moody using
DreamWeaver to create our e-folios… which I’ll just say we did a lot of
creating. But you know what they say, “when you create together, you stay
together!”… or at least that’s what I say! We formed crazy bonds with our
professors… somehow everyone loved us even though we spent the majority of
class trying to put paper in each other’s hair without them noticing! One night
I stormed out of class when my entire project didn’t save and I was going to
have to start from scratch. No one stopped me, no one told me to come back, and
we were able to laugh about it the next week. (I don’t even think I made it up)
And even now, some of my professors follow this silly little blog of mine because
that’s what happens at Baylor. (Hi Mrs. Smart!!!) And if it hasn’t been clear
from the synopsis already, we have about the maturity level of the ages we
teach. So obviously, graduation wouldn’t be acceptable without one last
hoo-rah. In our wonderful methodology classes we always got to play with
snapcubes. So we stole a few snapcubes and wrote a message on them from our 4-8
math gang. As we walked across the stage we each handed our professor a snap
cube and made her figure out the message later. Surprise!!
Did you think I was lying about the paper part? |
Try and decode that mesasge! ha |
With our life support and the greatest teacher on the planet! |
No comments:
Post a Comment