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Best and Worst Things About Leaving Oxford for the Holidays

Syllabus Week? Check. Rush? Check. Midterms? Check. Football Season? Sadly, check. It’s now the end of November and HELL YEAH DAMN RIGHT we’re almost finished with fall semester. Plane tickets are being purchased, procrastination habits are being reevaluated, and copious amounts of alcohol are being consumed to self-medicate away the pain of alarmingly shitty grades. Before we know it we’ll be back home in our own beds, surrounded by high school memories, and eating three square meals a day that aren’t made up of various flavors of ramen and Easy Mac. It seems like a dream barely out of reach…until you remember nights at The Square and binge drinking in frat houses will no longer be a part of your weekly schedule. Here’s to putting our questionable decision making—alcohol aficionado—college persona on hold for 6 weeks, and hoping we can power through until we’re back in Ox.

3.) Own Bedroom/Bathroom:

Ahhhh… what a relief your tempurpedic mattress topper is going to provide your first night back—just think of the quality sleep you’re FINALLY going to get. Long gone will be the nights spent careening up to get onto your lofted bed, and the curtains your mom special ordered for your windows ACTUALLY block out early morning sun—imagine that!! A two second walk to your bathroom ~not necessitating your ID to get back into your room~ results in towels that don’t vaguely smell like mildew, and showers that don’t require shoes.

2.) Good Food:

Rationing your money towards the end of the semester became quite the chore. With flex dollars vanishing faster than Natty Light at a frat party, you’ve been forced to use your meal swipes at Rebel Market… shit. One can only eat so many 1500 calorie burgers.

1.) No Responsibilities:

Christmas and summer break in high school usually meant you were given a shit ton of busy work to complete before you returned to school—that’s not the case in college. Your break’s actually a break, and with the exception of maybe an old high school job that you’re picking back up you’re off the hook and free to spend your time sleeping and hanging out with that old high school boyfriend who never seems to be busy when you’re in town.


3.) Less Alcohol:

Pass out at three/wake up at ten/go out to eat/then do it again—Asher Roth hit it pretty head on. Fall semester for the most part has been a drunken haze—with some school on the side. We may not always win on the football field, but Ole Miss NEVER loses the party. Maybe you’re majoring in accounting, maybe poli-sci, or maybe you’re still undecided, but regardless of your interests everyone here receives a bachelors in boozing upon graduation. But what does this mean for you when you’re home over break? Will your drinking habits be put on hold? Will your local gas station accept your fake? What’s going to happen to the tolerance you spent four months building up?

2.) Parents’ Rules:

In college it’s an every man for themselves kinda world. You do what you want when you want to do it, and no matter how shitty your decisions may be, no one is going to stop you from making them. Whether this means waiting until the night before to start a 10 page paper or rallying 6 nights in a row—Mom and Dad aren’t going to be there to tell you to get your shit straight. Back home though… who knows what to expect? Is your old high school curfew going to be enforced? Will you be expected to wake up early on Saturday mornings to do your old chores?? Will you return to your duty as the family chauffeur????

1.) College Friends:

High school friends will always hold a very special place in our hearts, but for the past four months we’ve established new bonds with people and created friendships that have been the reason we’ve been able to ~barely~ make it through fall semester. Going from seeing them every single day during our new pseudo adult lifestyle–from 3 a.m. trips to Cookout to frat hopping with them on Friday and Saturday nights to having to rely on texting and facetiming them for a month and half is going to hurt like a bitch.  


If you’re saying you’ve never experienced DADs, well, you’re lying:


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