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It might be spring semester, but spring is certainly not in the air. But, if not spring, what is (other than freezing temperatures)? For our writers, the answer is out-of-context comments made by fellow students on our first day of classes. Enjoy!

“What are you in for?” – a member of the crowd outside Lamont as one of our writers waited for it to open (to return a book, not to study, you psychos). Is Lamont a jail now?

In Berg this morning:

- Random boy: “I live in Holworthy.”

- Random girl: “I need your dorm to get mice. Can you leave a mess and pray?”

“My cramps are killing me — I am so excited for menopause.” – a random girl in Tercentenary Theatre.

“Why did Flyby lie about chicken tenders? That’s so cruel.” – Someone determined to slander us, despite the presence of chicken tenders in Dunster, Kirkland, Leverett, and Lowell (at least). First-years, you know which houses to hope for on Housing Day. (If you would like us to not lie to you about dhall meals, subscribe to Harvard Today!)

“My New Year’s resolution was to wear something other than hoodies all the time, so today I have a sweater on.” – an optimistic, and well-dressed, second-semester freshman.

On Luigi Mangione: “I could give him another back injury.” (This is why we can’t have nice things.)

“There are a lot of you and a lot of us, so we’ve made a course Slack so we can all stay in touch.” – a professor to quite literally the smallest lecture class one of our writers has ever seen.

“Bro, all I have in here are Zyns and Adderall.” – a student trapped in a lecture hall as he opened his backpack. (Zyns and Adderall were, in fact, all that he had.)

In a two-hour graduate seminar:

- Professor: “Let’s break into small groups to discuss the assigned readings.”

- Random guy: “Must’ve missed that email.” (He then proceeds to grab his bag and march out of the room… 30 minutes into class.)

Overseen, not overheard: elderly woman doing Tai Chi in the Widener stacks. Unfortunately, this is not the oddest sight we’ve ever seen in those stacks, and it is far from the most traumatizing.

If you’d also like to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations and call it journalism (because it is), we have some advice for you: comp Flyby!