Believe it or not, it took a colossal amount of effort to find my way to the Elson Student Health building, and it wasn’t due to my geographically challenged nature – which, trust me, was a force to be reckoned with.
I'm a planner. I like to write out my weekly schedule on a sticky note on my MacBook — my version of an agenda.
A few weeks ago I stumbled upon an unconventional email from the Politics department listserv — one broadcasting free Turkish lessons rather than Washington, D.C. based internships.
In light of recent events, I’ve been bombarded with a sense of mourning from the people around me.
After scrambling into the car and picking up our last passenger, we were off to visit the National Museum of African-American History and Culture.
Early in my first semester, my friend told me a memorable story about failure.
As I pushed aside the shower curtain and stepped under the running shower head, I suddenly became hyper aware of how slimy the floor of the showering area felt under my feet.
This past weekend, my best friend came to visit me at U.Va. for the first time since we both left for college, moving out of houses just a few doors down from each other.
The other day I was walking to class when I passed by an old friend from my first year dorm. I went to wave and say hello, but his eyes quickly darted down before I was able to initiate anything.
So far in my college career, my main motivation for doing anything has been food of the non-dining hall assortment.
Halloween was one of my favorite holidays as a child. I loved going to Party City to pick out a costume and putting up Halloween decorations around my house and in my yard.
Nothing about how I live my life, right now, suggests that I am a grown-up.
I wasn’t surprised by my mom's first question — “Is there a place to get warm homemade apple cider?”
It wasn’t until coming to college that I could finally muster the courage to say it. Years of teenage angst which entail the typical phases of moodiness and unwarranted sass beginning in middle school forestalled this great discovery.
The summer before first year, when the time came to fill out the on-Grounds housing survey, I opted to go the random roommate route.
I’m not sure where exactly it started to go wrong, but nevertheless, it was one of those days when you wake up thinking you’re actually pretty ahead of the game — and then by noon, you realize you can’t recall the last time you were so overwhelmed.
The first time I ever visited the Lawn was during Days on the Lawn, and it was a cursory, hectic show put on to tip the wavering student over the edge and finally commit to their home away from home for the next four years.
When I imagined what college would be like, part of me believed each new day would bring some flashy, life-changing revelation.
Having just turned 40, my aunt is now at a mid-point in her life. By this age, it is not uncommon for people to have started a family, yet my aunt remains unmarried and living in her trendy apartment in the West Loop of Chicago.
A few weeks ago I got a call from an old friend of mine from home.
