There are not many things in life more unnecessary and painful than Clay Aiken albums. Discussion sections are among those precious few.
Something has been tickling the back of my brain lately. Rest assured, it is no serious medical condition, but rather a curious sensation which has me staring blankly at the ceiling at night contemplating the coming day and making the same color coded, timeline-format to-do list in every class.
This is not a story about the University. This is not even a story about a student from the University.
I arrived in Spain thinking that I basically knew what was going on. I have a good grasp on the Spanish language and have been to Spain before, but it turned out this wasn't enough.
Not many students can say they have wrestled a stuffed squirrel while participating in their contracted independent organization, but for Hoos News writer Stephanie Boutsicaris, it was all in a day's work. The Hoos News Show is the University's only student-produced satirical news show.
I am not a competitor. I have never found joy in any sort of contest, be it physical or intellectual.
This summer, I experienced an unfortunate loss. My beloved Dodge Neon, Peter, drove his last terrifying mile.
If students needed yet another Internet venue to peruse in an effort to procrastinate on schoolwork, they have found it through blogging. Third-year College student Marie Connor estimated that she spends about two hours per day searching online for recipes on her favorite food blogs.
Jerry had Dorothy at hello; St. Petersburg, Florida had me at the airport. Although "my" airport, Dulles, is home to the only Chipotle in the country which serves breakfast, St.
I am my mother's daughter. This is not just an observation, a passing realization; this is an indisputable fact.
Heading into the second year of her tenure, University President Teresa A. Sullivan has sought to maintain the University's stature as a leading institution of higher education.
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.
