I have slowly and subconsciously made sure that images of owls surround me at all times. Whenever I need to set an image icon or site key it is an owl.
There are two types of spenders: the Mr. Krabs and the Squanderer. The Mr. Krabs is distinguished by chronic neck and back pain due to a lumpy mattress stuffed with oodles and oodles of cash.
As a relatively young driver and avid street crosser, getting honked at is a common occurrence.
While I did not enjoy much about the college road trips that peppered the last two years of my high school experience, I was at least sure of one thing: every time I folded myself into the back seat of my parent’s car and took off towards another campus tour, I would be return with a new piece of college paraphernalia.
There is a website called whypandassuck.com that serves as a hub for all literature on why Pandas are good for approximately nothing.
I’m sure all of you were as disappointed as I was when your acceptance letters to Hogwarts never arrived in the mail.
There are two kinds of libraries in this world. The first is a library of hushes, one with people nervously tiptoeing around, clutching their library card, looking for a book to bring home.
I had a Last Moment this week. Last Moments (patent pending) are fourth-year realizations experiences whilst completing a particular activity or participating in a given event for the last time.
This past weekend, I had the pleasure of taking 50 students from Charlottesville High School on a fall retreat in the beautiful mountains of Goshen, Virginia.
Coffee didn’t leave a good first impression on me. When I was first introduced to it as a child, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The top 10 ways to recover from a not-so-classy weekend.
It is not an infrequent sight to spy me on the elliptical for a brisk 44 minutes. If you’d like to marvel at my lack of grace on low impact gym equipment, I’m most fond of the Aquatic and Fitness Center.
Today is Friday – and not just any Friday, Halloween. This coincidence has created immense joy for many University students before the clock strikes November.
My friends and I sit around a table at Newcomb, listening to Lance Bass throw his career away as he announces the next hit pop song from 2006.
Ten weeks into college and I’ve already got a reputation. Who am I, you may ask? Why, I’m that girl?the one who’s always parked at a picnic table outside O-Hill studying, socializing or simply sitting.Some people give the dining halls a hard time, and others rage into serious debates about which one is their personal favorite.
The contents of my mailbox tend to be immediately discarded. I don’t read the flyers or the announcements that often have nothing to do with me.
A few nights ago, as my CavAdvantage card was denied for the third time and my brights bled into each other in the dryer, I finally admitted to myself that before arriving on Grounds, I dreadfully romanticized the college laundry room.
In my college journey thus far, I’ve learned that we tend to think of things in the moment rather than view the master plan. We think one bad grade is the end of the world, or if we’re unhappy where we are, we can’t change it.
The women of Nyakitabire, Uganda share secrets between swirls of smoke.
