Sure, I feel overworked and a tad stressed, but I know that I am not alone in that.
I don’t think I realized how fast life moves at the University until it was time for summer — time to stop and rest.
I always feel mixed up when I come home. I drive two hours into a whole new world of Northern Virginia.
What is good and what is bad about yourself? Such a black and white question can never be answered in a similar black and white manner.
I lived a pretty sheltered life my first year. Unlimited dining plan, air-conditioning in my room (all hail New Dorms), lots of upperclassmen to baby me and most importantly — no cars.
My mom got a call from our elementary school when my sister and I were telling the other kids about Charles Manson.
The Remembrance Garden will be a communal area where individuals can grieve in their own way.
“Ashley,” you ask, “Do the cap and gown have any other uses?” Of course!
Have you ever nabbed the no. 1 ticket at Bodo’s? Seen the Purple Shadows on the Lawn?
I could easily imagine coming here with a large group and sharing several of the appetizers.
You saw some of those hopes come to life, but you also saw some of your dreams wither away.
The past two weeks have solidified what I always thought might be true: I am quite good at relaxing.
Two years is longer than you’d think — I’m glad I’m halfway started.
I trace back the strings of decisions and events that have lead me to particular outcomes.
When it comes to the prospect of going home for three months, it seems many of us are caught between excitement and dread.
Living in a community, however large or small, is a gift.
The psychological influence you can have simply based on the way you walk is astounding.
Students are always surprised when I tell them I’m a transfer student, like I'm not-a-true-wahoo or something.
As this is my last column of the year, it seems inevitable to write a cliché “What I’ve Learned from First Year” column.
Nestled between comparatively behemoth, red-brick academic buildings, on Grounds just north of Jefferson Park Avenue, there sits a collection of four, distinctly older houses.
