T he basement in your house is flooding, and the roof is caving in. You're homeless or living out of the backseat of your car.
My little sister is going to college this year. It's terrifying but she already has a new comforter, funky pillows and a Facebook account
I think the greatest moment in American history went a little something like this: Two college-age guys are driving in the car when Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone" comes on the radio.
Orem City, Utah. They call it "Family City, U.S.A." It's nestled away in the northernmost corner of the Beehive State, in a mountain crevice lovingly called, "Happy Valley." Happy, that is, until Michael Moore decided to pay a visit. In October 2004, just before the election, Utah Valley State College announced it would play host to the nation's most controversial and cholesterol-filled filmmaker.
Here we are in the flip-flops and flat iron (have you checked out what this heat wave mess can do to the hair?) necessary days of August with the start of the fall semester mere weeks away.
Approximately 17,000 guests and 120 conferences later, employees at the University's Conference Services are almost ready to close shop for what they have dubbed to be "one of the most successful summers yet." Catering to the needs of clients ranging from children to senior citizens, Conference Services serves as the backbone of all organizations and events that take place at the University over the summer, from graduation housing, to sports camps, to business conferences. Conference Services Director Sheri States knows the extent to which this organization feels the brunt of the onset of summer activity at the University. "Although we organize a few conferences during the year, the majority of our work takes place in the summer," said States, who has been working for Conference Services for nine years.
What happens when you have nothing to do all summer? You remember the sweet Jose Diaz-Balart fan club, that's what.
Maybe you had enough of babysitting when you graduated from high school, but some University students can't get enough.
Harry Potter news never will cease to excite me. However, this column is not actually about Harry Potter.
President Bush recently became irate at White House chief political advisor Karl Rove for a major intelligence leak that has taken the media by storm.
It's hard to be a single girl in the working world. Since I'm not 21, and therefore not eligible for the paradise that is Happy Hour, my options are strictly limited to the office.
Wouldn't it be great to get paid to do what you love? Well, 28 orange-and-blue blooded Wahoos are doing just that: working as summer orientation leaders to show off their beloved University to the incoming first-year class. The multiple two-day summer orientation sessions serve as the first real college experience for the class of 2009, an occasion that can help define students' opinions about the University.
A word of advice: "Casual Friday" should not be mistaken for "Boxers and Flip Flops Friday." While I work as an intern at a relatively lax law firm in D.C., I never should have taken for granted the firm's "At least wear pants, for God's sake -- unless of course you're a partner, in which case feel free to go pantsless at any time, and if you want to wear just a bathrobe, that's cool too; we want you to feel maximum comfort as you bill hours and think about how hard you worked in law school" policy. I really enjoy working at the firm, which I will call Free, Beverages & Candy, LLP for the sake of preserving its anonymity (law firms like to keep a low profile). I have a luxurious cubicle and my own private bathroom (all I had to do was write, "who are named Dan Dooley" underneath the preexisting "Men" sign and then tell all the lawyers that the bathroom was crawling with pro bono clients ... that keeps them away). I even have a window that looks out over the glorious scenery of an alleyway.
Beautiful beaches, warm weather, young people and a wild nightlife. Sounds like the ideal summer vacation, right?
Boredom: The act of being "bored," further defined as the process by which boredom is cultivated, which in it of itself is an infinite loop of definitions and pretty boring.
12,000 miles, 18 pounds of cheese, 37 pounds of ham and over 100 hours of nonsensical staring at foreign television -- so begins the summer of 2005. It all started when I packed up my 1989 Toyota Camry with everything I could expect it to carry without falling apart.
Hollywood and Madison Avenue would have us all believe that summer is a time for lazy days, hot nights and consequence-free hi jinx.
I've forgotten what it's like to be free from my parents' reign. In fact, coming back home for the summer has been quite the culture shock. I miss all the little things that you never realize you can do as a college student living on your own but can't do as a 21-year-old living under your parents' roof. First of all, not many people in college wake up on the weekends before 10 a.m.
By Preston Gisch Arts & Entertainment Editor Heritage Repertory Theatre's "Damn Yankees" ($14 for students; 8 p.m.
