Two weeks. That’s all there is left to my first year here in Wahooland. With this time left, you’d think I’d devote this last column to our beautiful University, but I’d like to move 270 miles south instead, to the heart of East Carolina University.
As I child, I often rifled through our furniture’s drawers in search of trinkets. My favorite was the pack of cocktail napkins stored in our buffet.
What does it mean to be a college student in the 21st century? It means having role models like Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, who simply couldn’t be bothered to slave over a degree.
At this moment — Sunday, April 14 at 3:22 p.m. — we have exactly 12 days of classes left. By the time this column prints, we will be well on our way to a mere ten.
There is simply no better way to spend a gorgeous Charlottesville morning than exploring our amazing brunch scene.
Before every summer break, I’m always secretly a little worried that I’ll go back home and never come back.
It’s a shame that clichés are, well, exactly that. Trite mantras that become diluted with overuse and come to be associated with Southern finger-wagging mothers.
A few weeks ago, as spring break came to a close and I prepared to leave my Key West haven, I couldn’t find my sister.
Walking outside this week was like walking into a sauna. The air was sticky, but in a way pleasantly humid after the endless months I spent inside this winter.
Just about every fourth-year columnist in the free world has already written — or will soon write — something about being a fourth-year.
This week, The Happiness Group continued our exploration of the “paying it forward” theme, and piloted an activity called “The Pizza Project.” Distributing free pizza, cookies and fliers reading “pay it forward” to late-night studiers in Clemons, we were eager to familiarize others students with the concept of paying it forward, and to encourage them to do so themselves.
On the fourth floor of Alderman library, seated at a very old table on a chair with less-than-functional wheels, I peer out of a foot-wide window looking down onto Nameless Field, and I watch the sun finally fall into a slumber after a beautiful weekend-long performance.
There are generally three schools of reaction after I introduce myself to people as “EP.” Proponents of the first, and most populated, school stare at me blankly for a few seconds, then, puzzled, ask, “EP?
My college career is going to come down to 100 words. Or so it seems. I say this because, two weeks ago, I received an email from the Media Studies department asking me to confirm I wanted to walk in their graduation ceremony and if I did — which I do — to submit a 100-word biography to be read at graduation. While this request should send a rush of panic to any unemployed almost-graduate, it was especially ironic in my case, as I received this email while I was working my last shift at the only paid media job I’ve ever had.
A Fish Out of Water A journey to infinity and beyond— Clark Hall By Kelly Seegers Cavalier Daily Columnist If you have never attempted to find a TA‘s office in Clark Hall , don’t start now… unless you are up for an adventure. As I sauntered my way into Clark, I was expecting to see my TA’s office right away, be done in five minutes and then go hit up Greenberry’s for some coffee.
This past weekend, I met my family down at our beach house for a few days. All my life, our place at the beach has been my favorite spot in the entire world.
I want to audition for the drama department’s production of Crazy for You, but I am nearly too nervous to do so.
Bored games, you say? Nah, you’ve got it all wrong. Board games are anything but boring. You probably haven’t played them in a while, unless you’ve been on a rainy family vacation, but they’re not just for kids and old people anymore.
I am an English major because I love words. I love that, when strung together, words make sentences.
In a world where cell phones can be used as GPS tracking devices, credit card swipe machines and social networking gateways, it’s become a rare event, at least for me, to look down at my electronic other half and see that’s its actually ringing with a real, human voice on the other line.
