I didn’t want to call October “hump month,” but this is exactly what it feels like.
When I marked my calendar at the beginning of the semester, I placed a special star next to this coming weekend and wrote, “Fall Convocation... and FAMILY WEEKEND!!!!!” Yes — that’s five exclamation points.
Christian houses are a popular living option at U.Va., perhaps more so than on other college campuses.
I don’t know if a lot of people watch baseball anymore, but they should. Not because I love baseball, but because I think it’s part of cultural literacy.
It’s 1:25 a.m. and I am moderately overcome with self-loathing. I’m just starting this article — technically due a few hours ago —because, despite staring at a blank Microsoft document for two hours tonight, I couldn’t come up with a paper topic.
A month ago, I felt the now-familiar tightness, the now-routine clenching of my throat. Another wave of hushed conversations, another empty space in a familiar, yellow house.
The other day, my friends and I decided to make fun of different majors and the fools who pursue them.
Who would you get lunch with if you could get lunch with anyone, living or dead? I was recently asked this question, and my mind immediately went to Oprah.
From time to time, I come across days laden in abnormal circumstances. Today, for example, I knew from the moment I accidentally poured curdled milk into my fresh cup of coffee that something wasn’t right.
Despite the explicit warning my Abnormal Psychology professor gave at the beginning of the year, I found myself sitting in class the other day with the overwhelming feeling his presentation was a personal diagnosis.
Become a pro at making excuses.
I came home this summer with a new goal in mind: healthy living.
I know it sounds contradictory — how can someone who identifies as an introvert simultaneously be ... outgoing? The answer is actually pretty simple.
I hate quitting; I think I was taught to hate quitting the moment I came out of the womb. Adults have always told me, “Find a passion and stick with it; stay committed.
A few days ago, I walked into the bookstore of our illustrious University to see if they would buy back any of the books I spent so much money on last semester.
I spend more time than I care to admit perusing YouTube in search of valedictory and commencement addresses.
A day without any screen-time is far harder than it sounds.
There’s a very special place in my heart reserved for the farmers’ market – to the right of the spot for Christmas decorations and above the spot for eating Pringles five at a time.
White girls next to world monuments, white girls trying “exotic cuisines,” white girls in matching Lilly Pulitzer dresses drinking matching $10 frozen lemonades, an inexplicable number of white girls on the beach — these are the images that have taken over my social media this past week as sorority recruitment started. Seemingly overnight, my newsfeed was flooded with links to sorority Facebook pages and Tumblrs and clever photo captions with Greek letters mixed in.
Completing the “116 Things To Do Before You Graduate” list is a daunting task. Recently, my friends and I headed to the Lawn to pick up our copies of the infamous fourth-year checklist, feeling like it was a rite of passage.
