Midterms Week: As Told by the Gallagher Family

Midterms Week: As Told by the Gallagher Family

Gentrify your Grades

The stress before the stress, midterms week. It's like a movie preview. A teaser of finals. You get a little taste of what the real deal will be like come the end of the semester. A practice run to get yourself together and figure out what makes you the most productive. Are you the pre-meditated planner who has their daily study schedule written down hour by hour, minute by minute? Or are you the last minute crammer with the blood-shot eyes and caffeine-induced shakes? Here's a few example of the types of people you'll find in the library during everyone's least favorite week of the semester.

1. Debbie "The Planner"

The young Debbie Gallagher is a tween driven by organization, refinement, and people-pleasing. Those kind of students that always have a smile on their face, most likely smiling through the pain of their assignments piling up. They aim to please and will not give up until their mission is accomplished. Much like Debbie never giving up on her dead beat dad or on her mission to have a kid in order to keep the man of her dreams. We all dream differently, am I right? The Debbie's may be often found sporting color-coated notes, perfectly preppy Lily Pulitzer planners, or their overly-positive attitude that makes you throw up in your mouth a little bit.

2. Carl "The Troublesome Teen"

Your stereotypical "bad student." The one who everyone stares at as they stroll in through the library doors because no one could be more shocked to find them making the slightest attempt to even look at a book. The ones who could care less about a GPA but more about the quality of their sarcastic remarks in class or making sure their Insta feed is perfectly balanced with bro & beer pics because they're so #college. The Carl's are the ones you'll catch on the weekends holding up their brothers on the keg but rarely spot them strolling around the library or cracking open a book.

3. Lip "The Natural Genius"

We all know at least one of these people. The type to constantly complain about how "dumb" they are and that they "never" studied yet can pull a 95 out of their butt after looking over their notes once before your Bio exam. Then you're left sitting there with an 85 after studying for 2 weeks with 3 stacks of flashcards, a 10-paged handwritten study guide, and blood sweat and tears. We wish we could all be a Lip Gallagher and not have to put any effort into our 4.5 GPA and get into MIT without even applying.

4. Frank "The Ultimate Bail Out"

They are not as rare as you think. The ones you never see and when they only show up to class for the tests but are otherwise non-existent on campus. Kind of like Frank Gallagher who only comes home to his kids to pick up his disability check then goes missing til he needs something else. These are the kids that make you wonder why their parents spend $54,000 a year for them to stay in bed all day and never leave their room. Yet somehow they haven't failed out and somehow Frank Gallagher is still alive.

5. Fiona "The Un-Productive Productive Zombie"

The eyes so bloodshot and dry they can't close their eyelids so instead their eyes kind of just twitch as they continue to stare at their computer screen but they can barely type because their hands are shaking from the 4 large iced coffees they've consumed in the last 10 hours. These are the Fiona Gallaghers of the library. The overproductive zombies that physically need a break but mentally cannot stop because their bodies may shut down altogether. These are the kids that are tied to their duty as a student. Doesn't matter how tired they are, when the last time they showered was, or how many days they've worn the same outfit. Fiona Gallaghers have no time to waste.

So fellow Shameless lovers and peers, I leave you with one question. Which Gallagher are you during midterms week?

Cover Image Credit: https://www.theodysseyonline.com/going-back-for-second-semester-as-told-by-the-shameless-cast

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I Blame My Dad For My High Expectations

Dad, it's all your fault.

I always tell my dad that no matter who I date, he's always my number one guy. Sometimes I say it as more of a routine thing. However, the meaning behind it is all too real. For as long as I can remember my dad has been my one true love, and it's going to be hard to find someone who can top him.

My dad loves me when I am difficult. He knows how to keep the perfect distance on the days when I'm in a mood, how to hold me on the days that are tough, and how to stand by me on the days that are good.

He listens to me rant for hours over people, my days at school, or the episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' I watched that night and never once loses interest.

He picks on me about my hair, outfit, shoes, and everything else after spending hours to get ready only to end by telling me, “You look good." And I know he means it.

He holds the door for me, carries my bags for me, and always buys my food. He goes out of his way to make me smile when he sees that I'm upset. He calls me randomly during the day to see how I'm doing and how my day is going and drops everything to answer the phone when I call.

When it comes to other people, my dad has a heart of gold. He will do anything for anyone, even his worst enemy. He will smile at strangers and compliment people he barely knows. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, even if it means going way out of his way, and he will always put himself last.

My dad also knows when to give tough love. He knows how to make me respect him without having to ask for it or enforce it. He knows how to make me want to be a better person just to make him proud. He has molded me into who I am today without ever pushing me too hard. He knew the exact times I needed to be reminded who I was.

Dad, you have my respect, trust, but most of all my heart. You have impacted my life most of all, and for that, I can never repay you. Without you, I wouldn't know what I to look for when I finally begin to search for who I want to spend the rest of my life with, but it might take some time to find someone who measures up to you.

To my future husband, I'm sorry. You have some huge shoes to fill, and most of all, I hope you can cook.

Cover Image Credit: Logan Photography

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?


Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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