The University is no stranger to new community initiatives. Ambitious and passionate students here seem to have an perpetual desire to give back, with more 3,000 students helping those in the greater-Charlottesville area through Madison House alone.
This past Wednesday, I did something I haven’t done in a long, long time. Apologies to my professors, teaching assistants and GPA, but sadly this “something” doesn’t involve doing all of my assigned readings before class.
If you’re like me, you’ve spent much of your college career clocking hours in class or in the library, learning about everything from media theory to the formula for compounding interest.
Have you ever found yourself standing in a familiar setting, taking in all of the usual stimuli, only to suddenly realize how utterly absurd everything is?
For the third consecutive spring, Slavic Languages and Literatures Professor Andrew Kaufman is instructing a course entitled “Books Behind Bars: Life, Literature and Leadership,” during which 16 enrolled students travel to Beaumont, Va.
Bobby Year: Second School: College Major: Environmental Chemistry and Archaeology Sexual orientation: Gay _U.Va.
1. The Kid You See Everywhere: You’re on Rugby and he’s there. You’re at Barracks and he’s there.
There has always been an international element to the University. When Jefferson opened the University in 1825, he recruited five of the eight original faculty members from England.
A friend came by the other day and started talking to my sister about her columns. “Do you take criticism?” he asked.
Anticipation. Merriam-Webster defines it as “the act of looking forward, especially to a pleasurable expectation.” It’s the waiting period before a song’s beat drops, or the upward climb on a huge roller coaster.
I’ve never written a bucket list, as the whole thing seems kind of grim to me. That being said, there are certainly some things I want to accomplish.
Do you hear that? That’s the sound of credit cards being swiped. That’s the sound of flowers, jewelry and chocolates being bought in excess.
It’s safe to say this has been a politically charged year at the University. Before we even set foot on Grounds, students and faculty alike took up arms to defend the name and position of University President Teresa Sullivan.
The other day, I found myself having a conversation with my roommates about television shows from our childhood.
Dear Mr. Poe, There I was, feeling like a new woman as I supped in the Newcomb dining hall, when I realized I was 10 meal swipes down and had 10 extra pounds to show for it.
Katelyn Year: Fourth Hometown: Onancock, Va Major: Environmental Sciences U.Va. Involvement: American-Indian Student Union, Alpha Chi Omega, Environmental Sciences Organization Ideal date (person): Ethnic of any brown sort (Indian/black/Hispanic/Egyptian/Persian/etc.) I like outgoing, weird, funny people. Ideal date (activity): Food is always good, though I’m also into live music shows and sporting events. Deal breakers: Social conservatives, or anyone shorter than I am. Describe a typical weekend: Friends, drinking, bars, probably a concert at the Jefferson or somewhere.
1. Complain about the cold: Now that January is behind us and spring has an official start date, it’s okay to complain about how cold it is.
With the greenhouse-turned-dining-hall N2 no longer obscuring Peabody Hall, a mass exodus back into the second floor of Newcomb Hall has begun.
I’m making a calendar today. A calendar of events, in which I map out my remaining months, weeks, days and hours — time I will spend at the coffee shop or the library or the small wicker desk pushed up against the wall in my oblong bedroom. I almost had a miniature panic attack last night as I lay in bed thinking about what my calendar would look like, but then I remembered that panic attacks wouldn’t fit into my weekly event lineup, so I quelled the urge to scream.
I’ve come to terms with having a complete mental breakdown roughly three times a semester. It’s practically a ritual now, where everything suddenly piles up and engulfs me, dragging me to the bottom of a lake of self-pity. To the general annoyance of my friends and neighbors, I find myself holed up in my room, eating tubs of raw cookie dough and watching reruns of television shows, attempting to convince myself that by not doing anything, I am, in fact, helping myself.
