Chance "Let me Alone" Solem-Pfeifer
Your lips part. You're posing a question – to me, it seems. You are looking at me, after all. Fine.
What classes are you taking next semester, man?
That's it, eh? Any other trifling visions of the future you'd like me to predict for you? There will be sitting assuredly. There will be talking, and if mercy worms its way into fate's good graces in even the slightest sense, there will be video days. And if that video should happen to be "Glory," then all the better. Nothing plucks fruitlessly at the cavernous expanses where my feelings used to dwell, like watching a greasy Cary Elwes stumble around serving up racial epithets and calling it higher-level education.
But here's what the process will look like. I'll hop on MyRed (which I can only assume refers to the copious and personal debt I'll take on from paying tuition) 10 minutes before I'm set to register and avoid anything that meets on Fridays. Friday is "me time." Come to think of it, so are Wednesdays and Mondays.
How many hours, you ask? I've never really understood the concept of being a full-time student either. If simply breathing in various rooms 12 hours a week makes me a student, then just remind me about the breathing part and let's get this over with.
As for the academic aspect, we're all majoring in futility with a minor in feigned attention.
No matter what your HIST 201 professor tells you, you can essentially take his class on Wikipedia. Why does he attempt to adamantly refute this notion? Because if you can glean accurate information on Bacon's Rebellion with a solitary mouse click, maybe he's tending bar somewhere. Maybe he's working as a peasant farmer somewhere. Oh, the humanity.
Now if the world was more just, he'd spend time gathering better information on Bacon's Rebellion and just why all those indentured servants were so ruffled about working for minimal compensation. But, no, he spends the time telling you Wikipedia is worthless. They will all tell you that.
But this is 201, you're talking about, guy!
Are you yelling at me? It seems like you're yelling.
Envision this for me. It's the future and things are pretty much the same as they've ever been. Across the restaurant table from you is your date. He or she is marginally good looking and that light of immature hope still twinkles in their eyes. You share a silent chuckle with death's impending arrival.
"What classes are you taking next semester?"
You can't imagine a less interesting question. You rise from your chair and laugh in the waitress' face in repayment for her charade of pleasance. Perhaps she would like to discuss classes with your date. You see a cat get hit by a car on your walk home. And you feel ... nothing.
People are always advocating for better time management, efficiency, planning ahead, sucking the marrow out of life. I'm advocating that you not freak out. Your forthcoming semester will be a crapshoot, much like everything you've ever experienced. One instructor will engage you. One will keep you awake. One will fail to do both and one more still, will be so forgettable, you'll struggle to recollect his/her name eight weeks into the semester. This will be awkward in attempting to add salutations to your illness-faking emails.
"Hello, Professor Pawn (because aren't we all),
This life has defeated me. I find solace now only in slumber. Send me the notes from Wednesday."
Chance Solem-Pfeifer is a junior English major. Reach him at chancesolem-pfeifer@dailynebraskan.com
Katie "Do The Right Thing" Nelson
So you're looking to find the right classes. Well, you've come to the right place – class searching is one of my hobbies, along with practicing magic and trying to make friends.
I'm a political science major, which has to be the hardest major on campus, especially since I take at least 18 hours every semester. Aside from my time-intensive major, I also fight for the good of the student body in unknown organizations, like Residence Hall Association.
As you can tell, when it's time for me to register classes, I have to do so in a way that will balance my hectic schedule. Thank God I don't have to worry about a social life – student government meetings are like middle-of-the-week weekends.
I usually try to take only the most challenging classes in order to best display my superior intellect. I haven't attended intensive therapy since last semester's calculus class, so I think I'll take organic chemistry for my last science. Maybe I'll just start studying at the University Health Center so they can immediately care for me when my muscles lock up from stress.
The first thing to know is it's absolutely imperative that you memorize the 2012 class schedule for the university – you never know when your registration hour is going to come.
Aside from the 18 hours I take, I also like to have at least another 18 hours of generally useless elective classes planned out just in case I may need to take one, like underwater basket weaving or matrix theory.
And although the classes may be tough, they can be much better if you take them with the right professor. Yes, I realize there are endless professors. I also realize that half the time you're signing up for classes where your teacher is named "staff."
is a member of the 
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