While this semester has been a trying one—one that has made me question many things—I am leaving it behind with a real appreciation for the fortitude of our student body. We are not passive. We are all connected by a desire to make a difference, to do what is right and to support our fellow Hoos.
I’ve been in Italy for the events surrounding the tragedy of Hannah Graham’s disappearance, the Rolling Stone article and the backlash that ensued. The discussions, the somber camaraderie, the “this is not right and we need to do something,” the desperation and helplessness.
First of all, there’s the dreaded Questioner. As soon as you’re through the door, the questions begin. How’s school going?
The University is going through a trying time. Problems are rampant right now, be they big or small, near or far.
1. Sing Christmas carols What better way to showcase your holiday spirit than by filling the air with your beautiful singing voice?
For my high school newspaper, I once wrote a column about how soccer moms with stickers like “my dog is smarter than your honor student” are ruining America.
On Thursday morning, I scalded my entire right hand in the middle of Clark Hall by trying to pick up a Greenberrys cup with a loose lid.
As an out-of-state student with no previous ties to the University, these past few months have left me feeling, at times, like I am looking in from the outside. In the wake of this most recent tragedy, I am completely unsure how to respond.
Several weeks ago, I wrote a column musing about how to shop for men after a botched attempt to please my housemate with a bacon bowl.
At dinner with friends the other night, I posed the question, "If you could only pick one issue to address for the rest of your life, what would it be?" The responses ranged across continents and species.
My grandmother is one of the most beautiful women I know. She spends her days pouring herself into her community with so much energy and joy, preparing meals for people who are sick, coordinating holiday toy and clothing drives and heading a monthly senior luncheon at her church.
I’ve always wondered what reaction I’d be met with if I offered to pay for a guy’s drink at a bar. It’s become a well developed and heavily romanticized image in my head.
A wise upperclassman once told me not to worry about taking the intro level classes because the higher levels are much more interesting and engaging.
The Spice Girls were prematurely on to something with their song “Spice Up Your Life.” Sure, maybe they were talking about adding some pep into their dance parties, but roll with my creative liberty here. Pretend they were talking about the ginger-nutmeg-cinnamon-allspice combo — almost as hot as Victoria Beckham herself — and shaking said combo to the left.
It’s at least an hour too early in the morning and my calculus professor is explaining three-dimensional functions in a calming, rhythmic voice.
Two weeks ago, driving in the car with my friend, I realized just how lucky I am to currently be in college.
There is a certain mystery to an unfamiliar package. Yesterday, I purchase I made three years ago on Kickstarter arrived on my doorstep.
I’m an English person—always have been, always will be. Perhaps that makes me biased, but I believe that there are benefits to be reaped from reading solely for pleasure.
I have slowly and subconsciously made sure that images of owls surround me at all times. Whenever I need to set an image icon or site key it is an owl.
There are two types of spenders: the Mr. Krabs and the Squanderer. The Mr. Krabs is distinguished by chronic neck and back pain due to a lumpy mattress stuffed with oodles and oodles of cash.
