Ellen Wang ’25
Staff Writer
When the biannual bloodbath known as course registration rolls by, even the campus squirrels know the students aren’t alright.
Luckily for you, reader, founder of the Claremont Colleges James A. Blaisdell’s ghost visited me in a sleep paralysis fever dream to tell me people like me don’t belong at the Claremont Colleges his special tips for perming into classes.
That brings us to the first point — receiving your goal schedule through visions as a result of sleep deprivation and whatever was in the dining hall muffins. These classes will be the ones you perm for. No need for a 4-year plan and backups if you’re floating through the days and weeks half-conscious, it perpetually feels like Sunday night and you can distantly hear Mudd partying to Mr. Brightside through your window.
Do not underestimate the art of manifesting, just like how Manifest Destiny enabled the WASP founders of Pomona College to just “start a college” of the “New England type” on land heralded by the Tongva and Kizh. Just keep repeating “I’m going to get a good grade in perming, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve” to yourself in the dorm mirror.
It is imperative that you email (every hour at the angel numbers, using a Raspberry Pi) every administration member you can find to multiply your chances of being seared into the institutional memory of the target school. Do not bother with the professors, do you think this is an educational institution or something?! Everyone knows bureaucracy has the faculty in a chokehold and you’re better off directing your efforts at the top. This handy trick works as a long-term investment for all future perms.
If you receive any responses, learn from the admin themselves to convey your dedication to diversity, equity, and inclusion: do not bother replying. This asserts that you care about every admin member equally and will divert the same amount of attention to each (none). #diversitywin !
Remember to reflect on your process and make note of what works for you. Perhaps journal a bit. Why are you doing this? Open the Common App from your bookmarks bar. Take a deep breath and close it. Not today.
Against your instincts, it is for the greater good to lie to your friends about the classes you are aiming for to throw them off your trail and instill a false sense of security because you are definitely going for the same classes and they are going to be decimated. Go on a social media blackout to emphasize your societal and social withdrawal and refuse to look when your friends offer to show you the cat videos on their phone instead.
Once you’ve clicked through the various student-made schedule building platforms to feel control over your life and realized that none of them hit just right, settle for the Portal and spend the time it is broken on being mindful because you can fix Him, and you’re just not trying hard enough — not to be confused with Kevin (He/Him), your inner demon, who you have long since given up on.
Make sure to avoid checking the status of your classes like they’re spoilers for a show you hate-watch, a show of your life in which you star as the main character, the antagonist, the love interest, and the gay best friend.
When it is judgment day, you will definitely have a therapy appointment during your registration slot and will have to prioritize by telling your therapist they can’t fix systemic issues that rob the simple joys from your life and will be dropping them and therapy. It’s go time.
Okay, the portal is broken and by the time it finally loads everything has been long filled anyway. The only appropriate response to finding out your classes have all filled is denial. Just repeat the aforementioned steps and keep manifesting<3 When you are ready, skip to the last stage of grief and accept that the real classes you didn’t perm into are the bridges you burnt along the way<3. Image Source: Instagram, @thescrippsvoice
