A run down Wertland, JPA, McCormick
The goodbyes begin this morning. I wake up knowing that it's time to write my last column. It's the first of many goodbyes I'll make in the next two months before graduation, and I don't know if I'm ready yet.
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The goodbyes begin this morning. I wake up knowing that it's time to write my last column. It's the first of many goodbyes I'll make in the next two months before graduation, and I don't know if I'm ready yet.
If this is my landlord reading, please disregard the following column.
TV is killing my social life.
Everybody hates fractions.
What's for dinner?
I have tried to avoid the front page of The Cavalier Daily lately.I see the newspapers neatly stacked at the entrance to Monroe Hall as I come in every morning for my classes.
Although it may be hard to recall during this spell of beautiful fall weather, it was not too long ago that Hurricane Isabel blew through Charlottesville.
Nothing brings alumni back like a goodfootball weekend.
Hopefully by the time you read this on Monday morning, you're not still in the dark. Well, it is Monday morning, so mentally it may take a while for the lights to come on upstairs.
With few exceptions, the University of Virginia is still a school of traditional values and social codes.
As I sit by the window writing this column, I'm watching the April showers do their best to bring about May flowers. I can't believe April is slowly winding down to the last days of classes and a dreaded week of exams. The horses have raced, final presentations have been made and fall classes are full on ISIS.
Boarding a plane bound for Florida usually is one of my favorite things to do. The anticipation of palm trees, sunshine and my family always has me smiling as I make my way down the terminal.
The first week back is always the hardest.
Now is the winter of our discontent.
Waking up Sunday morning, the remnants of U.Va. Bid Night surrounded me.
When I woke up last week and rolled lazily over to face the window, all I could see was blue sky and palm trees.
As students headed back to the Corner last night, they may have noticed that a familiar face was missing.
I'll be honest, I don't know much about sports.During my first season as a football cheerleader in high school, my brother or my dad would have to sit in the front row and let me know whether our team was on offense or defense. Needless to say, this still gets brought up at the dinner table.
When the phone rang at 2 a.m. yesterday, fourth-year College student Becky Kinlein didn't mind the early wake-up call Kinlein's friend had called to let her know that ISIS was up and running, and she ought to give registration a shot.
Eight miles outside Rockhill, N.C., there's a small, family-owned dairy farm. And on this farm there lived some cows.