Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been a planner. For every play date and birthday party I had, there was a corresponding itinerary of activities with carefully allocated time slots.
The power of a small-scale interaction was incredible and diffused feelings of alienation.
I was talking to a friend about the logistics of said fish market — why hold it all, especially if it’s for free?
It wasn’t until recently that I realized silence is sometimes more powerful than loudness.
This morning, I got a haircut at the first place that showed up on Google when I typed in “haircut.” When I took off my beanie at the salon to reveal unwashed locks, in all of their split-ended glory, the hair stylist furrowed her perfectly-shaped brows.
This University is a big pool filled with people from several corners of the world. Each person you meet is like a snowflake: unique, yes, but also composed primarily of water.
Between Black Friday and Cyber Monday, the couple days have been a never-ending cycle of sales going on “today only!” and “limited time!” offers.
The National Sleep Foundation recommends 8-10 hours of sleep per night for teenagers and young adults, but a study by the University of Cincinnati reported that 55% of participating college students sleep for fewer than seven hours a night.
At the ends of the emails she sends students in response to tragedy, University President Teresa Sullivan typically emphasizes how we must “come together as a community.” Though this advice seems appropriate in theory, in practice it is difficult for people to cultivate an environment in which they share complex emotions without fear of judgment or imposition.
Asking someone how he or she is doing is a pretty standard part of any conversation. Whether it comes as an effort to catch up with a distant friend over coffee, or thrown casually over a shoulder to an acquaintance passing by on the Corner, it’s a question I ask dozens of times a day.
As we wind down the fall semester and temperatures begin to drop, students everywhere begin to accept the harsh reality of the changing seasons.
For many reasons, I am not comfortable with the idea that reducing the stigma behind mental health starts with equating mental illness with physical illness.
The phrase “we, the people” implies a populants of a society are inherently interconnected. Coined by our forefathers, the words link the people of a nation using one commonality: our shared humanity. I find myself keeping these words in mind as I begrudgingly approach the end of my college career.
As I glance at my phone, I see a the number 18 in a red circle above my Gmail icon. I turn my phone back off and put it in my pocket.
Lately my thoughts have brought me back two years in time to my high school health class — or perhaps another class, the details are blurred in my memories — in which we were gathered to watch a TEDx video about stress and how it can negatively affect one’s health.
1. The Diehard: This fan is most definitely in Group 1, and most definitely wearing a College Gameday shirt from last season.
My parents met during their first year of college. They weren’t students at the same university — my father went to school in New Hampshire, and my mother attended an all girls’ school a few hours away in Massachusetts.
1. The tablers on the Lawn: Sure: the leaves look great, the sun is shining, and go Hoos, but we all know there’s very little chance that you were actually taking in the foliage on your way to class.
For every reason why Donald Trump wouldn’t be a terrible president (if any exist,) there are probably 10,000 reasons why he would.
As a fourth year, I have been spending a lot of time reflecting on my college experience.
