What your favorite cold weather dessert says about you
By Annie Mester | November 29, 20151. Pumpkin Pie You’re stuck in the past, wishing for better days when finals weren’t kicking us in the... class and “Hello” hadn’t been grossly overplayed.
1. Pumpkin Pie You’re stuck in the past, wishing for better days when finals weren’t kicking us in the... class and “Hello” hadn’t been grossly overplayed.
On the first day of fall break, I found myself on a stuffy, cramped MegaBus to New York City. My poor mother helped me drag my suitcase to the bus station, and after I waved goodbye out the window, an old lady who reeked of soap and apples plopped herself down next to me.
I am sorry to have to write this article. I want so badly to instead pen my full-throated support for the grassroots movement for equality that is long overdue.
My preschool class used to pray before our daily snack of graham crackers and lemonade: “God is great.
On my desk shelf, wedged between an assortment of books I have not touched since syllabus week and a massive salt rock I impulsively bought at the National Aquarium, I keep a glass box crammed full of love letters.
“I mean, it’s not like I care,” she said to me as we walked down Rugby Road one Friday night, headed home in the chapped fall air.
A while ago, I went on a day-long trip to the Eastern Shore. I woke up early, got in the car, and drove east until I hit the James River, three hours later.
It has been six weeks — six weeks of aftercare and maintenance, six weeks since I got my first tattoo.
By now, if you haven’t heard Adele’s new song, it’s safe to assume you live under a rock.
My eyes widened in horror as I heard myself say it out loud. Sure, I’ve chided myself for thinking it before, but I never thought I would say these words in front of other people: “We should totally do it; we’ll get such awesome pictures out of it!”
One day during October of my second year, I was sitting in my bed, struggling to breathe. I had lined my wall with sticky notes in an attempt to organize my thoughts on God.
As some of you may remember, I wrote a column a few weeks ago criticizing what I see as the corporatization of higher education, specifically at our University.
Fall at the University is striking. On Tuesday mornings, I walk through the Lawn archway on the West side of the Rotunda heading toward the Music Library.
U.Va. Halloween is a measure of strength, endurance, creativity and wit. To help you get ready for what is to come, especially if you are a first year and have never done this before, here are some tips on how to prepare.
I didn’t want to call October “hump month,” but this is exactly what it feels like.
When I marked my calendar at the beginning of the semester, I placed a special star next to this coming weekend and wrote, “Fall Convocation... and FAMILY WEEKEND!!!!!” Yes — that’s five exclamation points.
Christian houses are a popular living option at U.Va., perhaps more so than on other college campuses.
I don’t know if a lot of people watch baseball anymore, but they should. Not because I love baseball, but because I think it’s part of cultural literacy.
It’s 1:25 a.m. and I am moderately overcome with self-loathing. I’m just starting this article — technically due a few hours ago —because, despite staring at a blank Microsoft document for two hours tonight, I couldn’t come up with a paper topic.
A month ago, I felt the now-familiar tightness, the now-routine clenching of my throat. Another wave of hushed conversations, another empty space in a familiar, yellow house.