This article is dedicated to the men and women of UVA who work out on a regular basis. They are superhuman and deserve our undying respect. So Cavalier Daily readers, I did it.
In an attempt to engage my sentimental side, I often find myself sparing some precious moments of study time and indulging in the New York Times’ Modern Love columns.
An impromptu trip home to New Jersey last weekend found me seated comfortably in my living room with two friends of mine, a fire roaring in the fireplace and all our eyes glued to various screens.
A countdown of the best group costumes for you and your friends to show off your creativity this year.
For two of the eight hours during my last drive home to New York, I listened to Ted Talk Radio. One talk took up the majority of the time, and the speaker’s message has stayed with me in the weeks since that drive.
1. What’s the deal with texts I receive from my mother? Thanks to pop culture (or maybe Donald Trump, because he is probably the root of all evil,) my mother is a self-proclaimed “cool mom.” This means every other day or so I receive a text in reference to something only 15 year old girls should be discussing.
Fun fact I learned this week: refined sugar is in just about everything that tastes good. That includes sweets (baked goods, ice cream, candy, fruit juices) but it’s also found in peanut butter, pasta sauce, soups, salad dressings, ketchup, salsa, most processed breads and pastas, and cereals, among countless other food products. After researching for a few days, it became clear like that totally cutting out refined sugars from my diet would be a bigger investment than I had anticipated.
I began a routine last year where I would go to two different coffee shops within a single hour in an afternoon, every other afternoon.
At the Bookstore's poster sale the other day, I bought a poster with a rather intriguing Helen Keller quote overlaying a beautiful image of a wolf's face.
Life as a post grad is not the same as undergrad, and it’s not better or worse. It’s just different.
Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, is the venom infuses into the cold winter months — and we’ve all had a taste of it.
Growing up, one of the most common statements I heard from teachers was “There is no such thing as a dumb question”. Almost everyone has heard this from a teacher, parent, or mentor at some point in their life.
As much as it pains me to admit to such a typical, regular and average thing, I am from the not-so-mysterious suburban wonderland of “NoVA.” Coming to UVA from such an infamous area as a first year last fall seemed to have its perks— growing up in close proximity to a sizable piece of the University population, yada yada yada.
Growing up, it was almost impossible for me to sit through Sunday services at St. Luke’s church without some kind of distraction.
My adolescent years were steeped in feelings towards resentfulness of 6 a.m. wakeup calls.
In case you missed it, the Department of Treasury is in the process of choosing a woman to be the new face of the $10 bill.
Well, after a weekend’s worth of festivities and full-blown procrastination, the inevitable Sunday morning panic has arrived.
My roommate hates interventions. I learned this last spring when I took on the role of mother and demanded she get some more sleep, for her own good.
The office was silent, save for the sound of clicking keyboards. I felt my coworkers’ presences looming all around me in our tight working space.
When I walked onto Grounds fall of my first year, I had a plan. I knew exactly what clubs I wanted to join.
