I wake up with the sounds of the dump truck beeping below my open window, cooling air fluttering the leaves of my dying white orchid.
Restaurants on The Corner come and go like dust in the wind. The Backyard, Rita’s Ice Cream, Big Dawgz and, most recently, Baja Bean have fallen to the wayside over the years.
I am completely guilty of being a first class offense people watcher. By this, I mean I unfortunately enjoy offering my quick two-cents to people I observe doing silly things. I would like to take this moment to formally apologize to anyone touched by the harshness of my offhanded commentaries.
For some reason I will always associate it with the way it made me feel as a kid, clomping into school in my itchy, too-stiff back to school clothes, carefully cutting pumpkins out of bright orange construction paper that smelled like cardboard and using my dirty fingers to stick them on the bulletin boards of my classroom.
I’ve recently tried to break my terrible habit of arriving everywhere 15 minutes late — or, as I’ve grown to affectionately call it, Indian Standard Time.
Fact of life: the Freshman 15 is a myth. I actually do not believe it’s humanly possible to gain weight while eating at the dining hall unless you live on fries alone.
1. “Fraternity parties are so much better when you’re older.” You’d be lying if you told me that being able to walk past a line of anxious first years waiting to get into a fraternity and straight through the door wasn’t the most invigorating thing since realizing Dunkin Donuts delivered.
Three weeks ago, U.Va. Today’s front page read “U.Va.’s Largest Entering Class Boasts Intellectual Firepower, Diversity.” Key word: boasts.
On the Saturday of our opening football game against BYU, I was among those fleeing for their lives from the menacing clouds over Scott Stadium.
This is the dream: to have Jessica Alba’s body, Kate Middleton’s poise, Jennifer Lawrence’s cool factor and no quality remotely traceable to Michael Cera.
My two years at the University of Virginia have proven some of the best memories are made in the presence of a toilet. Ladies, you know as well as I do we can’t go to the bathroom alone.
The time crunch has begun and the pressure is on. Scrolling daily through the infinite amount of study abroad options, I have examined the same online program brochures countless times.
I live in a beautiful brick house on Wertland Street — a house you or a friend probably once mistook as a fraternity satellite house, or maybe just the house with the bushes where your red cup landed during block party.
“I just wanna hook up with him and get it over with, you know? I need to move on with my life.” I snorted and shook my head as I stirred my Cheerios, slowly taking in what my refreshingly blunt hall mate, “Stephanie,” was telling me.
As I sat smiling in my car, watching a guy holding a bouquet of flowers cross the street, I began to think about how strange flowers are as a symbol of love. Now before I elaborate upon this thought, let me make a few disclaimers.
From the beginning, U.Va. has had a bit of a problem with sex. Like everything great about this beautiful school, the story begins with our old pal TJ.
Because last fall I was in Texas, this is my first football season in over a year back in good ol’ Virginia.
Two weeks ago, on that hallowed Monday night before the first day of classes, I found myself pondering a question which has plagued many the intelligent, modern female Cavalier: “What will this outfit say about me?” After all, we’d be lying to ourselves if we said that our “first day” outfits weren’t still a priority.
8:00 a.m.: Paper, column, breakfast (maybe), coffee (definitely), research proposal, shower, stress. 10:47 a.m.: Wallet, keys, phone, out the door.
As a Life columnist – I’ve got a little more leeway with my language, my assumptions, and my stories, because all views are only mine.
