There are lots of things that make life at the University pleasant.
I came to college towing about three years of anorexia nervosa down Route 29.
I immediately buckled under the pressure of the decision and reverted back to what was familiar.
I quickly set out in search of summer work, determined to go out in the world and make the big bucks — or, you know, minimum wage.
First, we realize the impact our home environments made on us. However, that’s only half the battle.
You’ve probably heard that out of all the fears, the fear of rejection is chief among them.
The work I am doing is far from glamorous, but it has given me a taste of what my life in the real world could be.
It is a shame that we have no memory of the experience of learning how to walk.
I will spend the semester in Siena. I will eat delicious food. I will wear much, much tighter clothes.
My grandmother, unable to speak after her stroke, struggled out three words.
Something about staying in the same state, or even on the same coast, just felt too safe.
No matter how you interpret it or what faith you decide to pursue, I think it is important to have something to believe in.
Sure, I feel overworked and a tad stressed, but I know that I am not alone in that.
I don’t think I realized how fast life moves at the University until it was time for summer — time to stop and rest.
What is good and what is bad about yourself? Such a black and white question can never be answered in a similar black and white manner.
I lived a pretty sheltered life my first year. Unlimited dining plan, air-conditioning in my room (all hail New Dorms), lots of upperclassmen to baby me and most importantly — no cars.
You saw some of those hopes come to life, but you also saw some of your dreams wither away.
The past two weeks have solidified what I always thought might be true: I am quite good at relaxing.
Two years is longer than you’d think — I’m glad I’m halfway started.
I trace back the strings of decisions and events that have lead me to particular outcomes.
