Sunday, 11:31 am
Children of the SciLi
Recently, an influx of young children has been noticed in the SciLi: A four-year-old hanging out at the basement computer table, a toddler jumping on the red blocks in the lobby, an elementary-school-aged student wandering around the Science Center. It's not unusual to see high schoolers in the lobby with their SAT tutors, but we've been skewing younger these days. The SciLi is basically a playground, so it does make sense...
Saturday, 3:45 pm
The removal of the scary elevator signs can mean only one thing: the asbestos has been removed from the 14th floor! Shot not going to check it out...
Saturday, 11:06 am
It is a new era in caffeine availability! For the past three years, the lobby cafe cart has persisted in opening at noon on weekends, birthing a real conundrum for many SciLi users: If you made it here on Saturday morning, chances are, you needed coffee. But behold! The cafe now opens at 10 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays.
And for those of you who are no longer on meal plan, a symposium on something scientific is happening on the third floor and there are snacks and coffee. I may have no interest in brain science or whatever it is they're going on about, but I also have no shame in taking advantage of free caffeine.
Wednesday, 5:30 pm
It's after 5 pm. Do you know where your kids are?
Answer: They're in the SciLi.
The basement is bumpin'. We're talking, multiple people at every table, no available computers, noise exceeding decibel "suggestions," at least one printer jammed.
The Science Center is full of advisers, review sessions and weird snack food.
And even up here in the "Quiet Center," it's packed. But in a shocking turn of events, it is actually quiet. Maybe painting the walls purple and hanging cutesy signs about silence is all it takes to remind people that we are actually in a library. Well, that or the butterfly-shaped structure in the center of the room. Winged insects must be approached carefully and quietly.
So what's to blame? A short week means five day of homework condensed, perhaps. The start of midterms is also upon us. And finally, it's "warm" enough to stomach walking here, not to mention the newly de-iced sidewalks. (Falling with a backpack is both painful and awkward, and makes getting up difficult.) Or maybe everyone's just trying to get it in before the clock strikes 9 pm. After all, it's Wednesday, and though we no longer know what exactly that means, it must mean something…
Monday, 12:51 am
Kicked out of the CIT (my preferred serious study space) because of weird-ass long weekend hours, I have descended into the bowels of the SciLi. Although I'm not a professional Frisc-ologist, I feel like Sunday nights are usually super-peak crazy hours, as the homework the Brown student body has collectively put off all weekend suddenly crashes down all around us. As we celebrate the birth of our favorite commanders-in-chief this long weekend, however, most of Brunonia is putting off Sunday night's work until Tuesday, and the Frisc is desolate. Truly desolate. We're talking 1 AM on Spring Weekend Saturday. From the cluster in 25 decibels, I can distinctly make out carpet-muffled footfalls from all the way in 00.
— Gene Goldstein-Plesser, Guest Columnist
Thursday, 10:33 am
As predicted, there is a huge increase in attendance as class periods shift. Though desks remain plentiful, there is a line for the printing computers and the printer itself, well, you don't even want to know.
Thursday, 9:09 am
It is officially an acceptable hour to be in the basement, and yet, barely a soul is in sight. Several people stopped by to print in time for 9 a.m. class (that article you were supposed to read for today? Yeah, it does look like you "read it" if you have a copy on hand.), but alas, they have all gone. Perhaps we'll see another uptick at 10:22 a.m.?
Wednesday, 3:05 pm
Despite strong allegiances to the bowels of the Frisc, vigorous work on a social science thesis has forced relocation to the stacks of the Rock.Amid the rows and rows of books, a different kind of etiquette exists. Unlike the Frisc or its prettier cousin, the Rock study room, the stacks are a place of isolation, silent solitude and real work. So here are a couple grievances that need to be issued about behavior on the fourth floor of the Rock:
- If your music is so loud that your ears are vibrating, that probably means that everyone with a five-carrel radius of you can hear exactly what's going on. While I don't think you should be embarrassed about listening to the Glee soundtrack, you should turn it down.
- Finger tapping, rainboot squeaking, paper crunching. Look, library time invites fidgeting. We're all culprits. But perhaps you could fidget more quietly.
- When walking down the aisle of carrels, keep your head up and look straight ahead. Stop trying to read what I'm typing. Yes, I am making fun of you. You can read about it from your own computer.
Save the noisemaking, socializing, spying, creeping, eating, giggling, movie watching, loud music and shoe tapping for the Frisc. We're here to work, people.
