I walked into my sister's bedroom the other day and found her laying down, arms wrapped around her upper body, hands tapping against her shoulders.
This week my third Thanksgiving Break at the University came to a close. Although I was not treated to my mother's cooking or embarrassing family stories, I did fulfill at least one standard school holiday expectation: I got a miraculous nine hours of sleep a night - unheard of since I came to college.
For an ordinary college kid, going home for Thanksgiving Break presents opportunities for family bonding, face-stuffing, Black Friday shopping and coming up with absurd justifications as to why homework does not exist at "home home." For those like me, who even in my third year cannot figure out when to go grocery shopping and must occasionally call my mother about washing machine protocol, Thanksgiving Break is so much more: that haircut you didn't get even though your split ends are more divided than the preteens of teams Edward and Jacob, that book you never bought for class but need now because it will definitely be on the final.
Date: Friday, November 11 Time: 6:30 p.m. Location: College Inn
Halloween may have already passed, but you can still find students running around on fabricated broomsticks.
I have recently come to the realization that I am a middle-aged woman. Actually, let me rephrase that. I may look on the outside like any other college kid, but I have been aware for some time that my manners and interests coincide heavily with those of women who drive minivans.
Until I came to college, there were two main reasons I never really understood the fuss behind Thanksgiving.
I recently read an article in The New York Times about same-sex education and its drawbacks. According to the study, same-sex schooling leads to greater conformity to gender stereotypes - girls become less likely to branch out and boys become progressively more focused on the assertion of masculinity.
For one adventuresome collie, all of Grounds is his backyard and all the students and staff merely owners.
The costs of grants, renovations, scholarships and financial aid packages can create enormous financial budgets at the University which need to be managed carefully.
There is a young woman I've had class with a few times during the last three years who is obviously very intelligent.
I am a lover of libraries. I've never been to a library I didn't like on some level. I've been underwhelmed and unenthused.
Date: Friday, November 4 Time: 6 p.m. Location: Basil
For some students the last two years of college are often a scramble to complete the requirements for a major - or two.
As a fourth-year student, the time has come for unapologetic nostalgia. The end of my college career is approaching and I find myself looking back at all of my great experiences.
I love Charlottesville. I especially love it in the fall when the leaves are changing and everything has a golden glow and smells kind of like apples and pumpkins and Halloween.
We are obsessed. We are completely consumed. There is a force within and around us which is unconsciously propelling everything we do.
Whether you're a concerned parent hunch-backed from hovering, or a nervous student desperately reading and re-reading your admission essays, the college search and application process is a stressful time for everyone.
I am fairly certain that November is the season of love. It cannot be autumn or winter for the former is the season of lust and the latter of resigned contentment.
It is officially fall, slowly creeping its way into winter. Several of my friends have told me how excited they are for the season.
