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(03/23/15 10:14pm)
I’ve got this mental image of my mom in the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel and the other hovering just over the gearshift. Her eyes intent and emotive, she’s gesturing slightly with her right hand — turning it over repeatedly or pointing explicatively. It’s clear she’s having a nuanced conversation in her head, perhaps berating a peer for having disrespected her, or coaxing a friend out of anxiety.
(02/03/15 6:45am)
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when I began to singlehandedly dismantle my own self-confidence. In the fall semester, I fell into a debilitating routine of insecurity and systematic self-doubt — triggered by no single event, I somehow convinced myself I was failing as a student, friend, writer and person.
(01/12/15 5:43am)
While spending time in Seville, I found it easy to feel like I was living in a storybook. For those few days, life was a fairytale in which sidewalks were lined with orange trees, stores closed mid-afternoon while workers and shoppers engaged in a city-wide catnap and I could order a glass of sangria with lunch unquestioned. In many ways, Seville was a dream come true.
(11/21/14 8:10am)
University students and faculty have responded in full force to an article published in Rolling Stone magazine Wednesday — many voicing their opposition to sexual assault and misconduct on Grounds. The article detailed the alleged gang rape of a then-first-year student by several members of Phi Kappa Psi fraternity in Sept. 2012.
(11/18/14 2:12am)
I’ve always wondered what reaction I’d be met with if I offered to pay for a guy’s drink at a bar.
(11/04/14 1:55am)
It’s been a hard semester for me.
(10/21/14 12:52am)
Thursday was a beautiful day for sitting at a table outside Boylan and enjoying a celebratory lunch to mark the end of weeks of merciless midterms. A friend and I had spent a few minutes catching up before our waitress, who I soon learned was a good friend of my lunch partner, arrived to take our orders.
(10/07/14 1:37am)
Here at the University of Virginia, we Hoos hold ourselves to the highest standards of comportment in all aspects of life. When it’s time to study, we work with diligence and integrity. In becoming members and leaders in the vast array of student-led organizations represented on Grounds, we act passionately and wholeheartedly. We govern ourselves, relentlessly committing to self-advancement and conducting ourselves with a conscientiousness which creates around us a tangible community of trust.
(09/23/14 12:40am)
I finally know what “sunken eyes” look like. After having long skimmed thoughtlessly past the phrase — overemployed by authors everywhere — and having dismissed it repeatedly as referring to a purely literary feature, I finally learned what it means when I sat across from a homeless man on the Free Trolley.
(09/08/14 3:55pm)
There are several personal narratives I could use to preface a column which attempts to explain my feelings about the rampant presence of sexual objectification on Grounds.
(08/25/14 9:03pm)
On one of my final nights at home in Connecticut before beginning the hapless adventure that was my summer in Charlottesville, I was driving my mom’s massive spaceship of a vehicle into the garage. Months of maintaining a spotless driving record — that I was a first year with no car at my disposal to crash is clearly irrelevant here — had armed me with the confidence to make the tight squeeze past my brother’s car and into the building.
(06/22/14 7:07pm)
Ah, summer. The smell of sunscreen, freshly-cut grass, and…first years? Yes, it’s orientation season again, and beginning July 7, new students will arrive on Grounds to meet their peers, draft class schedules and experience the glories of dorm life. Orientation leaders lead this process, serving as student examples of University life and ensuring new members have safe and positive experiences.
(04/28/14 4:07pm)
The changes I’ve undergone in just two short semesters at the University are pretty astounding. The person I was in early August has started to feel like an entirely separate person from who I am now. Sure, I still may not have a forest green Barbour jacket, and it remains ambiguous to me whether or not pluralizing “Foxfield(s)” is correct, but I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two.
(04/14/14 3:33pm)
To put it simply, talking about Greek life has already gotten painfully old.
(03/31/14 4:04pm)
Saturday was my friend’s birthday. Being the overwhelmingly srat-tastic and fun-loving individuals we are, we naturally had no choice but to make a production out of the ordeal over fruity drinks at a Mexican restaurant. We discussed only the most pressing matters: who will be the lucky guy upon whom I will bestow an invitation to my parents’ formal? Or rather, who will pretend to be unfazed when I “forget” to mention he has to rent a tux and converse with my endearingly Hispanic parents — surprise?
(03/17/14 5:07pm)
In a moment in between midterm-induced nail biting and Clemons-dwelling, my friends and I retreated to Newcomb for a quick lunch. As we settled into our meal, one friend relayed to the table her morning struggle to find a clean shirt to wear to class. Commonplace as this may seem — shockingly enough, laundry doesn’t top the list of fun things to do in college on weekends — there was something about the way my friend articulated her concern which caught my attention.
(02/24/14 4:42pm)
I’d love to be enrolled in the Engineering school for a day. Better yet, I’d love to be a physics major or a Nursing student or even one of those exceptionally rare Northern Virginia-born “pre-Comm” or “pre-med” first-years. The thing is, I’m not interested in any of these disciplines — I lack an affinity for crunching numbers and 1,000-person economics lectures. I’m just interested in what it would be like to be met with approval upon telling a stranger what I’m planning to study.
(02/10/14 8:30pm)
You know when something really dumb catches on, becomes widely recognized and is subsequently accepted as a norm, despite being utterly nonsensical? I’m referring to some of the more serious social epidemics: Crocs, AIM buddy profiles, YOLO and Instagram selfies.
(01/27/14 7:20pm)
I recently witnessed a social networking blunder of the most mortifying degree: the cringe-worthy accidental Facebook poke. Perhaps born of Mark Zuckerberg’s sadistic affinity for unintentionally acknowledging old professors or sixth-grade boyfriends, the “suggested pokes” section has been the downfall of many.
(01/13/14 12:24am)
The entire concept of being a “slut” is trivial and outdated. Dating back to roughly 15th century English, the grotesque term has made its way from ink on a scroll of parchment to the 140 characters Twitter permits us to use as we seek to dazzle our friends and family with our insight and wit. And, unfortunately, the whole “slut” thing is still plaguing society in the very same ways it always has.