Everyone remembers where they were when they first heard that planes had struck the Twin Towers in New York.
Tonight's the night. I have a rendezvous to make, and I just might be there all night. I have a date with Clemons Library. People tell me to stay away.
This past spring, the University introduced a new minor in response to widespread local and global concerns about sustainability and the environment.
I try not to use my column space to vent. A spot in the newspaper is hardly the most effective outlet to release my private and, admittedly, often overblown complaints.
For premed students - and, come to think of it, just about everyone else at the University - there seems to be an art to staying ahead of the cresting tsunami of work, classes and time commitments that befalls us after the first week of classes. Every year, I arrive on Grounds with the deluded belief that, this semester, I will have more free time.
When third-year College student Markeytta Harrison needs a break from the stress of class, she turns to the Black Expression Awareness & Thoughts Society.
Growing up means a whole world of changes. Of course there's that whole puberty and adolescence thing, but there are also less noticeable evolutions.
When taking a bath, I draw stick figures in the scum lining the rim of my tub. I can barely read what I'm typing because my computer screen is spotted with remnants of eaten-over-my-keyboard snacks.
As many students scramble for jobs in an increasingly competitive market, third-year Engineering student Joe McGrath and third-year College student Stewart Fortier have created their own.
As if I needed any more distractions, the other day I happened upon the holy grail of pleasure reading.
I've always been told to write what I know. But sometimes what you don't know is far more important than what you do. I didn't know Jason Wren.
He strolls by parking lot tailgates on his bay thoroughbred horse, circles the field at every home football game and excites fans all across the stadium to cheer on their team.
Two years ago if you would have run into me eating dinner at Runk or reading after class in Clark Hall and you asked me how I liked college so far, I would have gushed about how much I love it and how it was so much better than high school.
"What goes up must come down" is an everyday expression which explains the statistical concept, reversion to the mean.
Participants in the University's African Music and Dance Ensemble have an opportunity to take part in a class not bound by the constraints of convention, but which hinges instead on students' participation, and calls for them to intuitively find their own way through the course material. "African Music and Dance class" is a practical, hands-on course which focuses on performing music from the cultures of the BaAka people of Central Africa and the Ewe people of Ghana and Togo.
As I lethargically walked down Rugby Road to get to my first class in Wilson Hall, several people passed me at a sprinter-like pace.
At least once a year I feel the need to start a column with, "I have a confession to make..." So here's mine for fourth year. I have a confession to make, despite my seemingly cool demeanor and air of general chillness, I can be a little high strung.
Date: Friday, September 2 Time: 7 p.m. Location: Sakura
I am never completely here nor there. In late winter, I migrate south. In late spring, I migrate north.
College applications are hard. They are especially difficult if you have had a good life and are decent at school and nothing dramatically noteworthy has ever gone wrong for you or those you love. When I hear stories about other people's college essays, and their resultant immediate acceptances to Ivy League schools, I am always slightly jealous.
