Jan. 1 is not only an arbitrary day that induces people worldwide to buy new calendars, make resolutions that will undoubtedly be broken within 10 days and out-drink John Daly, but it also brings about reflection on the past 12 months.
[caption id="attachment_32580" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Forty University students traveled to Israel during Winter Break for a 10-day all-expenses-paid Birthright trip.
I consider myself to be a pretty picky eater. I especially tend to criticize foreign food. If you've never had a conversation with me about "exotic" cuisine, you can expect me to complain that it's too oily, too salty or contains too many flavors.
Shielded from the cool Spanish air by a thin glass windowpane, my beleaguered body lies very still, fast asleep.
The answer to the question "What is one of your greatest fears about studying abroad?" is usually something along the lines of "being homesick" or even "getting mugged in a dangerous city." Not for me.
During her days as a student at Michigan State, University president-elect Teresa A. Sullivan remembers feeling like "a kid in a candy store." "I kept saying to myself, 'Wow this is great!'" she said.
I spent part of my Winter Break working at my dad's office. My official task was "information consolidation," which actually meant that I spent eight hours a day moving papers from one file to another file, and then shelving them in an enormous storage room.
While many students were ringing in the New Year or catching up on sleep during Winter Break, a group of dedicated University students traveled to Honduras to aid rural villages in Los Pajarillos.
There's nothing quite like watching the sun rise from an airplane. About three weeks ago, I caught my first glimpse of the sun coming up over a patchwork of green fields as my plane descended into Dublin Airport.
Basic Info: English professor Bachelor of Arts from The New School Teaches fiction writing and studies in the short story Q: What are you most proud of in receiving the 2009 MacArthur Fellowship award? A: Of course it's incredibly gratifying to be recognized in such a whole-hearted way.
Driving for me is absolutely agonizing. The red lights, the stop signs, all of the laws, my passengers always yelling, "Slow down!" or "That was a stop sign!" or "Quit reading that book!" And, of course, all of the other drivers are totally confused.
I pass Baja Bean Co. everyday on my walk home, but before this weekend, I had never stopped for a meal.
After five-and-a-half years of classes en fran
I always have preferred instantaneous, black-and-white feedback; confirmation that my efforts have enjoyed absolute success or utter failure; noteworthy victory or crushing defeat.
New Cabell Hall room 119 dramatically switches functions within two hours on Monday evenings. At 5 p.m., students discussing Rudyard Kipling and H.G.
To me, and to a couple thousand other runners who woke up early last Thursday morning, Thanksgiving just isn't Thanksgiving without the Turkey Trot.
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.
