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.
Here at the University of Virginia, we are a rather pragmatic bunch. We accept the advice of those who came before us, humbly acknowledging their store of expertise is better stocked than ours.
If you ever have a conversation with me that lasts for more than two minutes, you will know the four basic facts of Anne-Marie Albracht. 1.
Citizen Burger Bar, tucked away downtown across from the Paramount Theater, provides a burger that would make our founding fathers proud to be an American.
Sometimes I wonder if the world spins merely due to human energy. Are just we a bunch of Forrest Gumps, just running and running to generate rotation?
This just in: while the late March snowfall would have you think otherwise, the semester’s coming to a close.
I don’t have the luxury of getting to see my extended family very often since we are spread over a vast swath of the U.S.
Right now I’m writing on my bed, typing rather, unable to release myself from the comfortable grip of lounging around horizontally.
Last summer, I spent a lot of time walking. At the close of each business day, I would set off on my journey home, bypass the smelly, tourist-ridden Times Square subway stop and head straight down Broadway.
Signing up for classes gives me a strange sort of thrill.
One of the hardest transitions to college from high school is our newfound responsibility to make decisions for ourselves.
Mr. Jefferson designed our University around a circle of sorts. The Rotunda, a half-scale model of the Roman Pantheon, stands as a series of oval rooms within a greater sphere.
As a member of the press, I will be the first to tell you — the press is not your friend. This is especially true if you attend the University of Virginia, where the story of President Teresa Sullivan’s botched ouster, handled with all the grace of Janet Jackson’s historic Super Bowl dance, haunts our hallowed Grounds even a year later.
After spending six months in Houston, Texas last year, I was really craving a great Charlottesville cupcake.
This spring break I spent eight days in Brazil with the Seeds of Hope trip, a much-needed departure from my life in Charlottesville and the anxieties and fixations that accompany it.
As the pain of the fractures from my biking accident eased throughout the spring semester of my first year, I retained a healthy fear of moving vehicles.
There’s something oddly comforting about studying in a cubicle. Perhaps these are just the crazed ramblings of someone who has been inside looking at book pages for too long, but I haven’t been able to shake this thought for a few weeks now. What once was a sad, drudging plod to Clemons has become a ritual.
