Forget D-Day. Forget July fourth. Forget Valentine’s Day. The most epic day in history comes upon us in t-minus 10 days. Ladies and gentlemen, boy and girls: my 21st birthday is nearly here.
I’ve said “boys suck” more times than I can count. Whether trying to ease the situation of a friend or making myself feel better, sighing and moaning the phrase always seems to do the trick.
Thus, all things considered, are those who fear romantic commitment really to be blamed for their apprehension? Or are we just reacting naturally to the objectively daunting circumstances monogamy presents?
I noticed so many little things in that short walk that I probably would have ignored on any other day. Most of the time when I walk home I try to multitask, reading emails, responding to texts or checking Facebook as I dodge the people walking by me. But by taking the time to look around and listen to the things happening beside me I was able to remember how many beautiful things there are going on at any given moment.
In the time I’ve been abroad, I’ve spent more time in airports than I ever have before.
Over fall break, I, like many of my classmates, took to my favorite relaxing activities in the comfort of my own home.
Sometimes a deep anthropological idea will hit me in the most unlikely places. Is “deep anthropological idea” a huge exaggeration?
Few people acknowledge the lethal potential of ice cubes.
The most bizarre part of our relationship is that with time, I’ve noticed the similarities growing even more. I am increasingly becoming her clone; just call me Dolly the sheep. With age, I am slowly morphing into a slightly taller version of my mother.
6:15—that’s when my bus was supposed to leave D.C.’s DuPont Circle en route to New York. Yet, here it was, 6:15, and I was hurriedly scampering up what must have been the longest metro escalator in all the District thinking it was already too late.
I was walking past the dumpling cart, freaking out about housing next year and how people sign leases fresh out of the womb, when I overheard a genius man ask a genius question: why isn’t there a burrito cart?Imagine, the joy of lining up in front of the almighty burrito truck, reveling in the glory that is a shiny, metal box.
“Oh, my gosh! We need to have a sleepover!”The dreaded suggestion elicited an inward cry of despair as everyone nodded in agreement.
I woke up on a beach in Haifa, Israel to the mildest lifeguard rebuke I’d ever heard.
A few weeks ago, I was once more meandering through the depths of Buzzfeed when I happened upon a quiz entitled “What’s the Sexiest Thing About You?” Given that Victoria’s Secret sponsored this quiz, I had my hesitations about clicking the thumbnail link.I am nowhere remotely close to a Victoria’s Secret model.
From infancy, I was raised as a Cardinals fan. The early days of baseball were uncomplicated. The Baltimore Orioles were the closest team in proximity ? the only team for which it was actually possible to attend games ? but I was an exclusive Cardinals devotee, as St.
I may not be a morning person, but this morning’s blood moon was pretty cool.I woke up at 6 a.m., confused as to why my alarm was ringing at such an early hour (with classes at 1 and 2 p.m., I am far more likely to stay up until 6 rather than get up at 6.) As I groggily pieced together the rationale behind this separation from my inanimate domestic partner – alternatively known as my bed – I became surprisingly excited.
Earlier today, I was listening to my 90’s playlist on Spotify – no shame.
After pondering these different uses of the word “love,” I came to realize that maybe the “soulmate” model of love isn’t as desirable as I had originally thought.
Here at the University of Virginia, we Hoos hold ourselves to the highest standards of comportment in all aspects of university life.
Top 10 things to consider when choosing where to live.
