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(02/20/18 5:03am)
At first, it was out of necessity. Generally speaking, I am not the most skilled within the realm of art. For this column, I include all things photography as being within this realm. I find it onerous and rather useless due to the fact that pictures are typically subject to my own editing error. Thus, HUJI Cam came as a blessing — salvaging my time and sparing the viewer’s undoubtedly pained eye.
(01/23/18 3:55am)
If I’ve talked to you recently, you have without a doubt heard my ravings on Malcolm Gladwell’s podcast “Revisionist History” — stories which recount the misconstrued and the overlooked. The series first captivated my interest on a night this winter break when I found myself suffering from a rare case of insomnia. Feeling guilty from the amount of “Seinfeld” episodes I had watched that day, I felt compelled to lull myself to sleep with something more academic and less mainstream. I was trying forcibly for something a little highbrow but caved after five minutes of a densely packed episode of “NPR Politics Podcast.” Thus, I came to stumble upon Gladwell’s series — admittedly, and most ironically, under the “top charts” category.
(11/29/17 5:02am)
I’m sitting in the bed of my dorm room at a university in London. My roommate Hannah, a fellow third-year at the University, is doing her nails as I type — both maneuvers to keep ourselves awake being that, as of now at 8:48 p.m. in the United Kingdom, we have been awake for nearly 32 hours. We arrived in London from Budapest early this morning. Though we have both been voicing our fatigue routinely every hour or so, it’s dawning on me just how lucky I am to be in this state of utter exhaustion.
(07/07/17 12:20am)
First of all, I’d like to disclaim the notion that could be evoked from this piece that I am particularly averse towards children. This is not true. Rather my intention with this article is to shed light on the comical — and perhaps slightly questionable — means by which a sarcastic college student takes on the task of disciplining and entertaining three young children.
(04/19/17 6:05am)
There’s nothing enticing about being in “the middle.” No one wants to be second-best because naturally it feels more gratifying to be the best. Growing up, I was dissatisfied with my status as the “middle” child between two brothers. I wanted to be ahead of them both, but I found my vote was often overruled or my voice was overpowered by theirs. I learned quickly that competing with them would entail much shoving and foot races as tests of strength, the throwing of harsh words and a thick skin.
(03/21/17 5:24am)
I’ve come a long way from sleeping in Clem during first year. I carried the mentality that there is no room for error from high school to college. It was exhausting but for a noble cause. Or so I thought. I don’t recall the exact moment when I decided procrastinating was a healthier life choice for me. All I know is that I’m a happier person because of it.
(02/08/17 6:20am)
As the middle child between two unruly brothers, it struck me at a young age that I could easily be “the well-behaved one.” Either out of respect for my parents’ sanity or out to seek the title of “the favorite child,” I followed all the rules and did as I was told. To me, my parents were people to impress, and this was not hard to do, considering my brothers seemed to bring about mayhem with everything they did. Thus, growing up, I was under the impression that being older and more mature than my younger brother innately rendered me the one to look up to. Now I can see that I’m the one who has learned from him.
(01/31/17 5:30am)
At first glance, the past year seems to have been ridden with havoc and despair. The world saw a multitude of terrorist attacks and mass shootings. Disease and inclement weather took the lives of many. Much of the country mourned the results of a presidential election. Indeed, by the end of the year, our country appeared to be more divided than like-minded. Some coined it the worst year ever — and they may not have been far off — but I’d like to think the strife of 2016 has not left us completely broken.
(11/30/16 4:47am)
I wake up to the feeling of crisp, freshly washed sheets enveloping me and the sound of my family talking downstairs, their voices reverberating softly throughout the house. The cherry wood kitchen cabinets are closed gently and ceramic mugs and plates are stacked onto the granite countertops. The sputtering sounds of coffee being brewed from the “old-fashioned” — though it may be too soon to coin it as such — coffee pot are just barely discernible through the sound of frying bacon and bread popping up from the toaster. The smells of espresso and grease waft into my room through my closed door and seep under my blankets. I’m filled with ease as I open my eyes, for these are the sentiments of repose only your real home can offer.
(11/16/16 3:55am)
In light of recent events, I’ve been bombarded with a sense of mourning from the people around me. I’ve consoled friends who have cried, and I’ve had to try to mitigate their fears. I’ve seen several in tears while watching both concession and victory speeches. And — what I deem to be the most lamentable of these first few days out of the election — I’ve heard words of hate spoken or posted by representatives of all political ideologies, animosity voiced from both the winning and the losing sides. The contrasting sentiments of profound loss and triumph are allowed to be felt or acted upon with passion. However neither feeling, no matter how strong, justifies venomous rhetoric.
(11/04/16 2:55am)
It wasn’t until coming to college that I could finally muster the courage to say it. Years of teenage angst, which entailed the typical phases of moodiness and unwarranted sass beginning in middle school, forestalled this great discovery. For most of my teenage life, this striking realization went unnoticed even though it was right in front of me. But now I can disclose it with utmost confidence — my parents are undoubtedly the best friends I’ve ever had.
(10/19/16 3:08am)
There’s at least one in every family — the stingy, straightlaced aunt of whom you’re always been a little afraid, who speaks of all youth as “those millennials” with both wariness and critique. Out of disappointment with the trends of our generation these family members recall, “When I was in school,” to differentiate with some element of scorn between the then and the now.
(10/05/16 1:41am)
If someone were to say to you, “I’m disturbed, I’m depressed, I’m inadequate, I got it all,” your first inclination would certainly not be to laugh. However, George Costanza from the 1990s hit sitcom “Seinfeld” serves as an inspiration for a newfound interpretation of life’s austerity.
(09/20/16 2:15am)
Everyone told us we were making an utterly terrible decision. In hindsight, the choice to tell our friends from our all-girls school averaging 60 students per grade — an environment not necessarily prone to keeping information private — was worse than our agreement to live together. What a heinous idea to start your college experience by doing the opposite of branching out and living with someone you already know — or so people made us out to feel. In actuality, rooming with my best friend from high school turned out to be the highlight of my first year at U.Va., dare I say it.
(09/12/16 2:52am)
Guys and girls alike have at one point had to walk somewhere on their own. We do it all the time so we don’t think much of it. But with recent news coverage of sexual assaults on college campuses all over the country in mind, the unfortunate inclination of unease just while walking home is now expected. The reports of sexual assault in media are as prevalent as they are for a reason — each academic year about 20 to 25 percent of college women are victims of attempted or completed rape, according to statistics from the National Sexual Violence Resource Center. Of these individuals, around 66 percent are attacked off-campus. So it’s only natural when we all grasp our keys in between our knuckles for self-defense, right?
(05/09/16 5:20pm)
Electric guitar and a pounding drumbeat — the first five seconds of the Avett Brothers’ single “Ain’t No Man” defies the group’s usual folk sound. The group’s previous albums featured a country twang aesthetic that nods to the North Carolinian upbringing of founding members Scott and Seth Avett. In the past, the defining elements of the Avett Brothers’ sound have been a banjo and the group’s playfully unrefined and nearly off-key vocal harmonies.
(04/27/16 2:00am)
Signing up is harmless. It’s probably most exciting when you get the confirmation email that you’ve just committed to run 26.2 miles. Yes, this is actually going to happen. You are going to do this. You feel invigorated in the weeks of training with a spirit of triumph before you’ve even accomplished anything. Why? Because you know of the utter agony you face ahead, and signing up equates to crossing a mile-marker in itself — overcoming the fear in the mere idea of running a marathon.
(04/13/16 6:06am)
I’m becoming increasingly convinced I may be one of the few remaining non-Fitbit
(03/23/16 3:58am)
The Jefferson Theater housed an eclectic cultural performance this past Saturday: U.Va.’s Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection presented Culture Couture — a fashion show, food fest and musical performance celebrating indigenous Australian art and culture.
(03/17/16 1:00am)
With social media’s popularity soaring at the height of our college years, it’s hard not to wonder if our motives for doing things aren’t only to post an Instagram or Snapchat story. These outlets can be manipulated to project a more “desirable” image of ourselves or, frankly, make our lives seem more interesting than they actually are. So what does that say about our sincerity? Are we only doing things because we think people are watching?