After living on Prospect Street and in close proximity to Sgt. Peppers for the last nine months, I thought I had seen it all, from rowdy students cutting through my parking lot in pursuit of one more keg to my neighbors running down the road at 2 a.m. toting lit tiki torches.

Hitting the south campus slopes

But after returning from class on a particularly snowy Friday morning, I looked out the window to see a man perched on the street wearing skis and decked out in black ski attire, complete with poles in hand. After readying himself in a manner similar to that of an Olympic medalist, the man pushed off.

His arms and legs propelled him forward at an impressive speed and by the time I found my camera, he had disappeared around the corner.

Later that day my house mates decided to go snowboarding up north. I recommended they save themselves the trip and head out to “Prospect Mountain” instead.


Dorm door defect

I live in a dorm room in East Quad, which means that there’s a fancy magnetic keycard locks on my door. Occasionally these locks break so spectacularly that the door can’t be opened from the inside or out.

That happened to me Wednesday just as I was about to leave to use the bathroom. My door mechanism broke, trapping me inside. My only option for escape was to call the hall maintenance service so they could drill out the door lock and then cut away at the locking mechanism, thus creating a huge noise which attracts everybody in the adjacent hallways of East Quad.

An hour-and-a-half later, my door was fixed. By that time, friends had gathered and were taking photos and videos of my triumphant release. They hugged me and celebrated my “freedom,” as one neighbor asked if I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.


A kissing scene

Growing up in Malaysia, the countless American movies I watched where making out seemed as frequent as coffee breaks provided a stark contrast to the conservative climate I was submerged in. Coming to the University this fall, I expected to encounter a battlefield of kissing co-eds.

So, when neither I nor my newbie friends came across a single couple sucking face in the first four weeks at school, we were astounded. Had Hollywood been lying to me all my life? American friends said that at U of M, couples restrained themselves from flaunting their love in public.

My friends were wrong. It turns out we were just innocent freshmen who didn’t quite get out enough. At Friday’s UMix event, I found myself surrounded by a swarm of students who were focusing much more on dancing tongues than dancing to karaoke. Maybe movies have it right after all.


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