The other day I went into the kitchen and my roommate Dan was standing shirtless and drinking from a carton of milk. I think that's what he does when he wants to philosophize. Dan is in Geological Engineering, which means he spends long hours learning facts and writing numbers. I have the greatest respect for his academic pursuits. They stand in stark contrast to my own. When I do work, it usually involves reading poetry or writing papers about imaginary people with magic powers. When Dan does work, it involves doing math with letters in it. Letters. The mind reels. I imagine that drinking milk with his shirt off is the only respite he gets from a thankless, cerebral existence.

He interrupted his meditation to wipe away a 2% moustache. "Hey," he said, "Have you learned anything this year? Like anything useful?"

When you're caught up in the petty details - waking up in the morning, reading books, writing the occasional note - it can be hard to hone in on exactly what's going on. Criticism comes secondary to the struggle for survival. But, as classes for the semester end, and as the mad scramble begins in preparation for exams, it's hard to believe the time has gone by so quickly. Not so long ago I was buying all the wrong text books and getting lost on the way to class. Time has, as it is so prone to do, passed. And with my first term at UBC almost up, it seems like a good time for a review.

So what have I learned in my first three months here? The question can't be answered summarily. Some courses have been more academically rewarding than others, and not always in a predictable way. At the beginning of the year I ended up sitting in on the wrong first-year religion class. I decided to sign up for it because the instructor seemed laid back and I'd already met a cute girl who was taking the course. Normally these are terrible foundations on which to build a Bachelor's degree. Nonetheless, the subject matter for that same course has been the most interesting I've learned this year, and our studies of Eastern religion have changed the direction I want my academic career to take. It's rare that the easiest decisions are the best to make, but every now and then you luck out.

I applied a more complex rubric when it came to choosing my other courses; one that took into account degree requirements, personal interest, and how early I was willing to wake up in the morning. It yielded mixed results. A worn piece of folk wisdom suggests that the value one finds in a course will be heavily affected by the instructor, and I've found this to be true. The most interesting topics can be turned dry and flavorless by a boring (or bored) professor. Whole disciplines can be reduced to the intellectual equivalent of stale crackers by someone who either doesn't have an interest in what they're teaching, or doesn't have an interest in making it interesting. Some profs are engaging in front of 200 students. Others can put a room of 20 asleep within the first half hour of class.

RateMyProfessors.com is definitely a resource I'll be tapping while I review my courses for next semester. Although I've already signed up for the courses I'll be taking in January, there's some flexibility. I learned this at the beginning of the year when I realized the schedule I'd already planned was unacceptable, and set about changing it. In my faculty, at least, it isn't difficult to get into courses that are no longer technically taking applicants. Most courses have a couple of open seats after the first class, as people pick up the syllabuses and second-guess their original decisions. I dropped at least two classes at the beginning of the year without ever actually attending them, just because there were openings in more tempting subjects.

Like I said, though, it's been hit and miss. I've learned some rad stuff about vikings (European Studies). I've been shown the connections between Beowulf and hip-hop (English). And I've been taught more paths to enlightenment than I can recall (Religion). The greatest lessons, though, have been practical - the ones that make daily life at university bearable. Like:

• - Never buy the big jug of milk. It will go bad before you finish it.
• - One caffeine pill with breakfast is a good way to wake up in the morning.
• - Two caffeine pills with breakfast is a good way to break down in the afternoon.
• - Whatever it is you just spilled, it will leave a stain.
• - Arts students are all lazy hippies with no future.
• - Science students are all uptight and boring.
• - Engineering students are all nerds, but they wear the same jackets, so that makes them a gang.
• - Don't plan to catch the last bus home from East Van after a night of going to clubs. You are too drunk and disorganized to make it on time and you will end up in the back of a cab with the window rolled down, trying to make small talk with the driver and wondering what happened to all the cash that was in your wallet two hours ago.
• - (You spent it.)
• - Six dollars is way too much for a bottle of Stella, but you'll do it every time because you've already paid the cover charge and you think the bartender's into you.
• - (She's not.)
• - Don't lose the syllabus.
• - You can start your term paper three weeks before it's due, and work a little on it each day; or you can wait til the last possible moment, and finish it all in one intense, eyeball-drying night. It's a matter of preference.
• - Chapagetti is not technically food, but it will give you the salt and carbohydrates you need to stay alive until the next shopping trip.
• - Always keep a pair of pajamas around for those days when you just can't manage pants.
• - Don't bother buying an umbrella. People always leave those things lying around. Often in a designated stand near the entrance of a restaurant.

Those are just some personally gained shreds of wisdom. Obviously experiences differ from one individual to the next, but I hope these ones might prove useful to other people during their first years at university. Whatever you choose to do with your post-secondary education, you are guaranteed to learn something. The only question is whether you do so in a classroom.

I wandered into the office of the Ubyssey last week, enticed by promises of free snacks. Before I had time to get my bearings, I'd been coerced into drawing an editorial cartoon. I explained that my efforts would never produce something on par with one of the masters of the genre, but staff members - a hardy race of dwarves who dwell in the subterranean bowels of the Student Union Building - assured me that they had the lowest expectations. Literally any two-dimensional figure would do. No Ubysseyan is capable of holding a pencil, their hands having grown knotty and crabbed over years of typing editorials and forging blades of legendary power. Thus the need, occasionally, to steal away mortals from the Realm of Men. I was ready to bolt for the door, until I learned that my labours would be rewarded with taquitos - crisp, savoury pastries prepared by the basement folk on festive occasions. The scent of microwaved bean-paste filled my nostrils. There was no choice but to stay.

It seemed like I stayed there for only an hour. But when I emerged blinking into the daylight, gray whiskers reaching down to my midriff, I realized that nearly a week had passed. Time works differently in the Otherworld than in our mundane universe. That's when I understood, to my horror, the true purpose of the free snacks. I had dined at the table of the Gentry. Never again would I be able to return fully to the human realm. I was destined to become one of the knoll folk.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one to fall prey to such a trap. During these first couple weeks of classes, it seems as though the campus is full of people recruiting. Fraternities set up tents, offering students the opportunity to purchase friends on the go. Clubs (but, disappointingly, no Lodges) try to entice new members. Diverse sects (and, perhaps, some cults) hand out pamphlets and cards. I got one the other day that informed me "God is better than Sex." Turns out I had it wrong all along.

For the very first week, the Student Union Building was a sort of bazaar. Every time I passed through, phonemongers would try desperately to sell me a new three-year plan. Wizened women in brightly-coloured scarves proffered student lines of credit. Portly, loquacious merchants hawked UBC t-shirts to passersby. It was a gaudy and frantic scene, filled with the sort of crass consumerism that would have disgusted me in my teenage punk days. I've long since surrendered my pride and liberty to the mighty dollar, however, and the spectacle of thousands of my peers lapping up the excretions of Moloch seems only natural - comforting, almost. I myself plan on visiting the Imaginus poster sale this afternoon, and buying decorations for my room. Something "fresh," like a poster of Bob Marley, or a print of "Crazy Stairs."

It's not all buying and selling, though. There have been numerous opportunities to indulge in free hot dogs, hamburgers, and other delights. Last week a man showed up in my neighbourhood and began grilling. Within minutes, denizens of the area were lined up around the block, each patiently waiting their turn for delicious charred meat. Even in the 21st century, we're ruled by a mead-hall mentality straight out of Beowulf, a hunger for the communal carnivorous experience. If you grill it, they will come. I didn't realize how many people lived in Fairview Place until the free barbeque. I haven't seen most of them since. I can only hope for their sakes that the meat wasn't tainted with the same fairy magic that has made me a slave to the Ubysseyan Underlords.

The start-of-school fervour is dying down now. Already life is becoming routine. I'm more sleep-deprived than I have been in ages. Most of my classes start in the morning, and most of my drinking starts in the afternoon. Sleep usually happens very late at night, sometimes suddenly and without warning. Pretty soon I'll have to break the pattern and start behaving like something closer to an adult. Sleep deprivation leads to physical and emotional stress, and do you know what those lead to? The dread Pig Virus, that squealing plague that threatens to swallow our civilization whole. Everywhere there are hand sanitizers and posters warning about associating with the wrong microbes. My irresponsible behaviour could give the plague a toehold, allow it access to the delicate microsystem of the UBC campus. Soon, students will trot about on all fours, rooting behind trash bins for scraps, bathing in mud and feces as protection against flies and the hot sun. Spoiler warning: It will be Animal Farm reversed. Next year, maybe they'll serve pork chops at the first week barbeques.