Last night I started my next round of classes towards my masters degree in computer science. I started this endeavor about five years ago or so while working at Boston University, and from there it’s been a slow going process, running neck-and-neck with Team Fortress 2’s projected release date (in case you’re not in on that joke, we’ve been waiting for TF2 since 1997).
Last year, I was able to take some classes at WPI and transfer the credits to BU. Not only is WPI closer to home and work, my classroom was nowhere near a true campus — basically an office building with big rooms with desks. Although I liked the convenience, I sorta missed visiting Kenmore Square every week. Last night that all changed, and I noticed a few things there changed in my absence.
A couple years ago, when I last took classes at BU, I noticed that a few things were different than I remembered from my undergraduate years at U. Mass. Lowell. Now just a couple of years later, those changes are even more prevalent. Here’s a little list of some “ins” and “outs” that I made note of last night:
Out: Hot girls around campus.
In: Even hotter girls around campus.
OK, for that one I feel a little bit like a creep, since at least some of the girls I saw were most likely ten years or more younger than me. But hey, I’m just making intelligent observations here, that’s all.
Out: Slinging a two-strap backpack over only one shoulder to look hip.
In: Slinging a two-strap backpack over both shoulders and looking at the idiots trying the ‘hip’ method.
As I walked through campus to my class, expertly slinging said backpack over one shoulder, I noticed an alarming trend — nobody did that anymore. For all I know, they stopped doing that ten years ago! Luckily nobody paid much attention to my old style, otherwise I think I’d have to shrug at them with a sheepish look, pointing to the left strap, mouthing, “strap’s broken.”
Out: English speaking computer science teachers.
In: Indilish speaking guys.
Yes I think I made up that word: “Indilish”. This language is best described as a person of Indian descent’s attempt at speaking fluent English, with not merely a touch of an Indian accent, but you’d swear by Shiva they threw some native tongue in the mix for good measure.
I also say “guys” instead of “computer science teachers” because it seems these days, computer science teachers for continuing ed. need only have a bachelor’s degree and their word that they’ve worked in the field. No, I’m not kidding.
Out: Waiting until classes are over to meet up with friends.
In: During class, why wait? That girl you met at the party while you were drunk on absinthe last night is merely a voice-activated dial away!
During my undergrad years, cellphones were considered a bit of a luxury. Not many people had them, and those who did have them had to drag the phone behind them on a wheeled cart. You’d have enough battery life to dial the number you wanted and let it ring once — that was the signal that you got a cell call back then.
Today, I’m seeing more professors getting more lenient with cellphone use in class. I only hope they finally draw the line when they start making hologram-projection cellphones. I don’t need to see the guy next to me talking to his roommate who’s sitting on the shitter. Here’s to hoping I’ve finished my degree by then.
Out: Seemingly honest, law abiding professors.
In: Professors telling campfire tales of their hacking days.
True story here. Last night, our professor went into the different levels of operating system security and vulnerabilities, especially highlighting those that exist on web servers. He then asked the class if anyone had tried to hack a site before. One guy actually shot his hand up out of a class of 35 people. At first I thought, “you dumbass,” but then the professor began to tell us of his own success at hacking a website. He ended his story with, “but this happened outside the country, so it’s OK to discuss here.” I wonder if his replacement speaks Indilish, too.
That’s all I can think of for now — I know I’m missing some in there, but I think my brain’s become a little shaken by this strange disruption again called “school”. Next week, to make sure I’m hip to the new school scene, I’ll be walking proudly with my backpack slung over both shoulders, my cellphone ringer set to the Ghostbusters theme, an Indilish-to-English dictionary, and prepared with tales of my hacking days gone by, all while I make more “intelligent observations”.
