Some things can only be learned the hard way. These are some other things. These things are like “Caution, Wet Floor” signs simple, but crucial. It’s easy to overlook them. I slipped on many wet floors in college, so perhaps it’s just people who learn the hard way. Though they won’t issue this advice in pamphlets at freshman orientation, here are some points to avoid while attending the State University of New York at Albany.
1.) The Wind.
Your lips are chapped, your hands are blue, somehow there’s snow down your shirt, and the mere sight of a tree limb bending like a rubber band makes you shiver what better time to start a hundred question midterm? Albany is notorious for swirling winds, and SUNY’s flat, open campus offers scant protection. While it’s not always possible to keep your hat on or your hair down, the tunnels beneath the Podium can provide a safe, warm refuge for students between classes. They stretch around the academic buildings and connect to lecture halls, the campus center, the performing arts theater, and the library. But unless you’ve got a driver outside, good luck getting back.
2.) Cutting Course Because of the Wind.
Guilty, but I always paid for it. Many UAlbany courses allow up to three excused absences before truancy affects a student’s grade. This, as I only learned too late, does not equate to three hooky passes with bonus incentives based on performance. I turned several sure A’s into flat C’s by being lazy and unprofessional. Maybe you only took that Western Civ. course as an elective, but you don’t want to fail just because it’s cold outside. Free advice: unless you’re legitimately sick, get your ass to class. You might learn something. And save those excused absences for nicer days.
3.) Postponing Course Enrollment.
Your friend recommends an Italian cinema course. You agree, it sounds enlightening. Your friend tells you it’s almost time to sign up. You smile, say thanks. Your friend wants to discuss who is more pertinent to neorealism’s influence on postmodern filming techniques, Antonioni or de Sica? You have no clue what your friend is asking because you didn’t take that course, so in a desperate attempt to seem intelligent you talk about how awesome The Godfather is. But only your friend is aware how stupid this sounds because only your friend did the smart thing and enrolled right away.
4.) Postponing Book Purchases.
First, make sure you have sufficient funds before hitting Barnes & Noble. Textbooks aren’t cheap, even if you’re able to buy used copies. Don’t spend a week weighing the pros and cons of your child psychology course, decide to stick it out after all, and then try getting the books. Don’t convince yourself you’ll be fine going paperless, or you’ll study with someone, or the money’s better off going to your weed dealer. Just buy your course requirements. Certain curricula are available in their entirety on the internet; others only call for paperbacks, which can often be purchased for surprisingly little on Amazon or through private online sellers. After each semester, the B&N campus store and Mary Jane Books (at Western Ave. and Quail St.) sponsor buy-back programs that allow students to get partial cash refunds on select texts.
5.) Parking Violations.
Again, I confess. I racked up ten (10) tickets over one semester, during which time I refused out of principle to buy a permit sticker. My war with the UAlbany parking enforcement team was a constant game of cat-and-mouse. I’d park in random places, switch lots several times daily, try to squeeze between two larger vehicles. The worst part: Finding a good spot only made my car more obvious. No one should have to go through that. Be alert to where you can park (e.g. not in the staff lots), or you will surely be alerted by the authorities. One parking permit cost me $20 for a semester; ten (10!) parking tickets cost me $400. Don’t let it happen to you.
Jared Levine graduated from SUNY at Albany in 2010 and believes that, although Antonioni is the more accomplished director, de Sica’s Bicycle Thieves is the purest example of Italian neorealism.