So many opportunities, so little time

I feel guilty. It's not because I haven't physically exerted myself in a month or because I didn't study 10 hours per day over break – I had to save something for reading period.

The cause of my guilt is the course selection card I turned in last month. For the first time in a year, I signed up to take only the required course load, four classes. Last year, Mathey's director of studies, Steven Lestition, allowed freshmen to sign up for no more than four classes in their first semester. Although at the time I grumbled that I was fully capable of handling five classes, I am quite grateful to him in retrospect.

Princeton's curse is that it requires you to sacrifice so many good things. I could easily take only half the courses that have been on my scheduler at one point or another and I would truly never leave Firestone. Or, I could become completely immersed in extracurricular activities. The question is, which one? Should I pursue dance, journalism or work? Never mind attending theater performances, movies, talks or late night rap sessions with friends.

My personal curse is my uncanny fondness for classes that don't count toward a concentration, especially those in the HUM, CWR and AMS departments. I can't not take them, but I also can't exempt myself from distribution and other requirements. My solution this past year has been to take five classes even as I increased my level of extracurricular activities.

The theory was that I would just become more productive; however, at a certain point my sanity and quality of life started to deteriorate. Mugs of tea started to substitute for the required eight glasses of water per day, and I became one of those geeks that stumbled from class to class reading. Time and again, five minutes of "eyes-closed, no-thinking time" on my common room futon became a four-hour nap.

Something is wrong when the tradeoff for attending a lecture by noted economist (and new New York Times columnist) Paul Krugman is pushing off the economics reading for the next lecture. I remember impassioned debates in third grade between George Bush supporters and Michael Dukakis supporters. Yet somehow, I ended up missing Dukakis' recent guest lecture on the uninsured.

Inevitably, when I leave Princeton I will regret not being able to take a number of popular classes. Friends have sworn their lives by John McPhee '53's Literature of Fact seminar, Gideon Rosen GS '89's stellar lectures and John Wilmerding's ability to make anyone appreciate art. I have my own peculiar obsession with good professors.

My main reason for coming to Princeton was for the outstanding academic opportunities. I have not been disappointed. As a result, I've had a difficult time getting over the mental block that more of a good thing isn't always best.

Just as admissions deity Fred Hargadon didn't select us just based on academic prowess, a Princeton education can't be summarized by the classes one takes. Involvement in Whig-Clio could be just as educational as taking another politics class. Discussions with friends can easily turn into Seinfeldian whining sessions; or, given an interesting subject and late enough hour, they could be more informative and intense than any precept.

Every day, there are talks by ambassadors in the bowels of Robertson, poetry readings by Pulitzer Prize winners in the Jimmy Stewart '32 Theater and performances by modern dance icon Paul Taylor's company at McCarter. With the help of my friends, some personal restraint and the windfall of time I'll have from only taking four classes, I intend to attend a few more of these next semester. Liriel Higa is a columnist from Los Angeles, Calif. She can be reached at lshiga@princeton.edu.