Brangelina

These crazy kids started dating about two weeks before Fall semester started--giving them just enough time to schedule all of their general and religion classes together. They ALWAYS sit next to each other. ALWAYS!! Heaven help you if you are sitting in between the last two open seats and you don't immediately move over so they can bask uninterrupted in their Love. You see, Brangelina uses class to give/receive sensuous back massages, whisper giggly little secrets, and fix each other's hair. This is more tolerable if they are one of those Beautiful couples, especially if at least one of them is ethnic, but unfortunately the frumpy Brangelinas are the most common. If there is only one seat left in the room, he will chivalrously allow her to sit there, causing her to get all verklempt and wipe away a tiny tear.

The male half of Brangelina is always a returned missionary, and this is probably his first relationship since he's been home. This is one explanation (but not an excuse) for his over-eager, slightly scary compulsion to tie that crap down. Since he is an RM as well as a Committed Boyfriend, he has declared himself expert on all topics spiritual and romantic. Don't ever EVER start a conversation with him, however desperately you may need notes, or an essay prompt, or the Heimlich. The female part of this dream team is an underclassman who still has some general credits to finish, which works out perfectly because he, too, still needs to take American Heritage. She has possibly less personality than any other human you will ever encounter.

SIDE EFFECTS OF BRANGELINA

• if they are Hot Brangelina, you may find yourself feeling sad that you aren't in a wonderful, happy relationship like theirs.
• if they are Fug Brangelina, you may have trouble holding in your vomit.

The Displaced Missionary

This species, usually male (not being sexist, it's just fact) can usually be spotted by his medieval flat halo, of the missionary glow variety, (although the glow is tarnished somewhat by the fear that he may have to come in physical, and thus secular, contact with the fairer sex.)

But beyond the flickering glow, the DM can be found by the phantom side-part, the nervous where's-my-companion twitch, or by the jeans of metabolisms past, that hug the second and third helpings the DM gratefully consumed for two years. These unholy jeans are also riding a little higher than they were two years ago, and therefore giving a peep show of a little argyle sock or, even better, some flirtatious white ankle.

And if the physical signs aren't enough to give the DM away, there are enough non-physical (dare I say spiritual...?) signs like his testimony as a default prefix to everything he says. Or his "small" talk which is about as small as Shaquille O'Neal's bathtub. The DM can turn a comment about the long line at L&T into a machine gun onslaught of questions, ranging from namehometownmajor? to current gpa, blood type, weight on moon and before you know it, you're committing to another interrogation at Freschetta on Friday.

And this time, bring your scriptures.

The Human Footnote

This person--and I've experienced both male and female varieties, and I honestly don't know which is more annoying--is under the impression that every college class is under construction and that he or she has been bestowed with the divine right to co-teach alongside the professor. To him or her, the rest of the class doesn't even really exist; it's just the professor and this weirdo in the spotlight while the rest of us are forced to sit in the audience with our open-mouthed frowns and raised eyebrows. It is common to zone out and daydream/doodle/fall asleep/die while the Human Footnote drones on and on, but if one makes the effort to listen to what he or she is actually saying, one realizes that none of these additions to the lecture are at all relevant. Some common themes of these lecture-derailers are: his or her favorite sci-fi/fantasy novel, his or her experience(s) on a study abroad, his or her mission/marriage, her utter revulsion at the treatment of women in whatever it was we read for homework (this one never comes from a guy)...just know that the Human Footnote sees all of his or her words as Truth that could totally be included on the midterm.

The Chortler

This breed is almost as bad as the Chronic Sniffer of the Testing Center, except instead of wanting to smother him with the box of the Kleenex he so sorely needs, you just want to burn all of his belongings so he'll never have occasion to laugh again.

Not only is this specimen blessed with a laugh somewhere between a strangled goose and an emphysemic death cough, but also a need to throw it down on full blast at even the slightest pleasantry. This is especially potent when paired with either a Hardy-Har-Har Professor, or a Self-Proclaimed Wise Guy classmate. Or, (and I wouldn't wish this on even the worst BYU stereotype) a suicidal combo of all three. The Chortler usually manages to sit just in your blind spot every day of class so that the laugh is just a faceless sound until you finally give up on the stretching/scratching-glances guise and throw your shame to the wind by spinning all the way around to catch your jovial neighbor mid-chortle.

After you've unveiled The Chortler (this is usually exciting if he/she's gender/ethnicity/marital status is different than expected) you're paranoiacally looking for him/her everywhere on campus until you can’t study/eat/drink/sleep without worrying about being in the same vicinity of the chortler until finally you’re pushing a shopping cart full of all your earthly possessions and some stray cats down University Avenue muttering and chortling to yourself until Kingdom come.

The Male English Major

A rare and endangered animal indeed, the Male English Major must be split into two sub-species: weird and awesome.

WEIRD: He is effeminate in every possible way and has a speaking voice reminiscent of Michael Jackson [too soon? Whatever] but probably doesn't have the moonwalk to justify it. Although the Weird M.E.M. can come in either Skeletor or Man-Boob'd, he can almost always be spotted wearing his usual ensemble of a pastel blouse--I mean polo, chino khakis, Keds, and glasses--but alas, not the cool, edgy, rectangular frames. These specs are big, round, and silver. Besides his disappointing appearance, the Male English Major also annoys us all with his arguing tactics. Easily flustered and riled up, he is extremely defensive and becomes mortally offended at the first sign of opposition. He has almost zero sense of humor, although when someone misspeaks, he is the first to whip around, stare beadily from his front row seat, and snort loudly and derisively at the poor soul.

AWESOME: Like the Weird M.E.M., he is very intelligent, but he uses his analytic genius for good rather than evil [i.e. he's really funny]. He is intriguingly attractive, sporting ironic t-shirts, those trendy little rectangular glasses to which I am so partial, and immaculately-fitting jeans. The Awesome M.E.M. does not always immediately catch one's eye, but he grabs one's affections with his snarky wit and insightful comments in class. He is generally single, which forces one to wonder how in the world he isn't married (i.e. what's wrong with him?). WARNING: Awesome M.E.M.s sound perfect, but beware their tendencies to be annoyingly snobby [a trait common to all English majors, regardless of gender].

The Perpetual Dater

This species is usually of the male variety (although there are similar kinds of females that shall be extrapolated at a later date) and more specifically so, the Returned Missionary genre. This subject knows his purpose in life is to multiply and replenish the earth, but before he decides on the perfect fit, he's going to try on every shoe, in every store, in the whole mall. He can usually be spotted by his energetic smile, his brightly colored polo or the 6,398.59 friends he has on facebook. High traces of Hollister cologne have also been identified at the scene of the crime as well as a big professional backpack that is full of nothing but extra pens and papers to amiably give to unsuspecting victims. Or by the fact that he always has a various female, of the adorable variety, close at hand.

This guy blows through Relief Societies faster than swine flu, and leaves about as much destruction in his wake. Tearing through the Sisters in Zion with his charm and his King Henry confidence. He is also a master at his plan. He will figure out how to turn any situation into a date--one second he's taking care of your Taco Bell trash at the Cougareat while simultaneously getting your name, hometown, major, phone number, the number of children you will bear him...(always in this order) then he's whisking you over to Sugar and Spice where a small scoop of cookies & cream (paid for with his signature card) is supposed to make you swoon, then you have a doorstop scene in front of the Wilk where he professes his "undying like" for you and then by the time you walk through the bookstore you see him sipping a Jamba cheek to cheek with a freshman from Mesa.