Students are always surprised when I tell them I’m a transfer student, like I'm not-a-true-wahoo or something.
As this is my last column of the year, it seems inevitable to write a cliché “What I’ve Learned from First Year” column.
Many activities lack the thrill I once felt as a first-year, but next semester does not have to be routine.
You become me, and we’re different people. And no offense, but I like me more.
The merging of music and social media brings back a lot of what I loved about the art of making a mixtape.
I tell myself I can do all of these things, but I really can’t do this, not all by myself. And I shouldn’t want to.
Recently, I’ve become obsessed with Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton soundtrack.
Sure, I can guess that my roommate has a cold and give her some Dayquil, but can I really be a doctor?
After my fruitless struggle, I realized that we don’t always need the epic and the sexy and the column-worthy. The quieter moments are more than enough.
My sleep for the past few nights has been plagued with such vivid dreams, each one more troubling than the last.
For my birthday, instead of focusing on festivities, I will focus on the "gifts" life has given me.
It’s that time of the semester again. Lou’s List is updated. Advisors have sent out emails for advising session sign-ups. We’re six short weeks until the end.
Would I recommend a Skyline Drive day trip? Without a doubt.
I want my friends to know that I will be there for them at U.Va. and beyond.
It’s not about meeting girls. It’s about meeting The Girl.
While I’ve loved almost every minute of my time spend on Grounds, sometimes a little distance can be healthy.
Hopefully this list of rankings will introduce you to old favorites or new twists and make your Sundays a little bit less lazy.
Sadly, it seems that snow days are a thing of the past, a thing of my childhood.
When they say “hot” yoga, they really mean “hot.” The studio was jacked up to a balmy 105 degrees and in our naiveté, our crew showed up in full length leggings.
I’ve discovered the benefits of procrastination and the alleviating truth that I’d rather be a happy slacker than miserable and punctual.
