Can great literature truly change peoples' lives? Next semester, students enrolled in a new course at the University, "Books Behind Bars: Life, Literature, and Community Leadership," will attempt to answer this question in the affirmative.
Just as I've done during every Thanksgiving break since the dawn of time, I spent the week ignoring the seven books I brought home, never letting more than 20 minutes pass without eating something and watching Charlie Brown. Watching the trials and tribulations of this Peanuts character has proven a particularly depressing tradition.
Whenever I head downtown to eat, I usually end up at one place for dinner - Marco & Lucas - to get dumplings.
This summer I fell in love with Julia Child. No, I did not buy one of her cookbooks and attempt to recreate her dishes.
Overcrowded freezers and pink candy canes. For me, their special once-a-year appearance each December announces the presence of Christmas.
Think back to your first impressions of the University as a prospective college student. Maybe you had siblings or friends already here, who gave you your first glimpse of a real college student's life, or maybe you first came on an admissions tour.
Well fellow Cavs, I hope you are all recovering nicely from last week's tryptophan-induced coma. This past Thursday, we all celebrated America's time-honored traditions of overeating, watching parades and conducting late-night raids of the kitchen for alka seltzer and leftover pumpkin pie.
It is that time of year again - time for turkey dinners, vats of mashed potatoes and slices of pumpkin pie.
Upon looking at the calendar and realizing there are only three weeks left in my fall semester studying abroad, I decided to use my few remaining weekends to explore the hidden corners of Geneva instead of cavorting about the rest of Europe.
Some of us are prone to wander. I wonder why. It seems that every year, I depart for a new unknown.
Advancing slowly down a gray catwalk, the models of Pride's 2009 Fall Fashion Show donned stark black garments.
The thought of Thanksgiving always makes me smile because it reminds me of my senile old uncle, Col.
For more than four decades, the University's Semester at Sea program has changed the way students see the world.
Dear Sick Kid, I am curious as to why you came to class. I appreciate your dedication but you are obviously 10 minutes away from death and I wonder why you would want to spend your last moments on Earth in this lecture.
The Corner has many dining options; nearly every step brings another restaurant awning, another chalkboard full of lunch specials and bar menus.
There's only one way to start your weekend off right. Of course, the "start of the weekend" is debatable.
For most people, thinking about Thanksgiving conjures up images of traditional American fare beautifully arranged on fine china and memories of the unpleasant, overly full feelings following the extreme overindulgence of the day that only a nap seems to relieve.
When thinking of a professor, the usual reaction is to picture him in formal attire lecturing, writing on a board or reminding students of that impossible test on the horizon.
My eyes are tired, my mind is cloudy and I have the overwhelming urge to hit any passing cheerful people over the head with my purse - all symptoms of end-of-the-semesteritis.
Like most injured people, I've set goals for myself throughout my recovery. There have been small goals: standing still without my crutches, putting shoes on without wincing.
