About a month and a half ago, I was less-than-cozily nestled in seat 34A on a redeye flight bound for London.
When I saw my little brother for the first time this summer, I was struck by how tall he had gotten.
In this highly interconnected society, with more and more communication moving to the Internet, we are becoming less concerned with how we are perceived in person and more concerned with how we are perceived online.
Dear Incoming First Years, You’ve probably heard a mind-numbing number of maxims and a desensitizing amount of advice about your first year of college.
The other day, as I sat mindlessly scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, I came across an ad that caught my attention immediately: “CLICK HERE to view ALL Ashley Madison users in Northern Virginia!”
Let’s face it, we’ve all been there — the aggressive text from your bank saying your account balance has dropped below 20 dollars, the feeling of impending doom as you finally go to check your statement.
Three weeks ago, my beloved cat and best friend, Lillie, died.
Each year at the University is unique and comes with its own set of new experiences and, occasionally, problems.
Last June, Nathan Kirby closed out the College World Series and fundamentally changed what it means to be a University sports fan.
Three long months have passed and finally school is starting up again. If you are like me — in denial that summer has truly ended — you waited until the last minute to face reality and come back to school.
This summer, I sat in a Panera and stared at a Google Doc titled “Life Things! Adulthood! Whee!” while silently crying and avoiding eye contact with the uncomfortable high school couple sharing a mac ‘n cheese bread bowl across from me.
This summer, I learned I have absolutely no clue how to take a compliment. My mom continually asked me what constructive criticism I was receiving from my internship, and my awkward responses to positive praise definitely topped the list.
Follow this advice to make it through your first week back in Charlottesville.
I remember being a child, before the days of driving or drinking, and somehow bringing fun to the most random or boring situations.
Yesterday, while in the middle of a frustrated rant about much I disliked a coworker, I realized I had absolutely no reason to hate her.
Undoubtedly, I was glad to be able to talk to people who knew the situation at hand, but never before had the distance between us been highlighted so prominently.
Every week it comes around again — a time when we’re cranky, half asleep and exhausted from the first half of the week, yet still torturously far from a weekend respite. We call this lull in our weeks “Wednesday,” and it becomes an excuse for bad moods, extra cookies at lunch and earlier-than-usual bed times.
I first heard the term “Life Graphs” during a summer-job-related, getting-to-know-you spiel. It sounds cynical — and potentially stonewallish — of me, but my initial thought was “No, hell no.” Hard pass, no way, I won’t, can’t make me.
During your first year of college, you receive a lot of advice — whether it is asked for or not.
My heels click across the pavement of Golden’s Bridge train station. I throw my car keys in my briefcase just in time to hear the horn of the 7 a.m. express, which is thundering down track one.
