Always bet on black... or red... or maybe those greens.
By Andrew Smith | April 15, 2004Classes seem to be dwindling down. Tis an odd feeling indeed, considering it's mid April and still -30 degrees outside.
Classes seem to be dwindling down. Tis an odd feeling indeed, considering it's mid April and still -30 degrees outside.
Several alarming incidents have occurred at the University this semester. Burglaries, bomb threats, an attempted sexual assault, a suicide... not to mention that the serial rapist still has not been caught. Is the issue of safety now plaguing Grounds? First-year College student T.J.
"Are most yanks all the go with Bush and the Iraqi War?" Jesse, a 21-year-old Aussie army enlistee, asked.
We are living some kind of déjà vu. If you will recall, last year we enjoyed a nice little snow dusting during our first week of April that was just entirely inappropriate after days of 75-degree temptation.
Getting a tan and playing in the ocean by day and partying all night may sound like nothing but fun, but for students stuck with planning Beach Week for their respective groups, it is far from fun and games.
France is the dork of Europe. It's the only country in Europe that you can visit, and instead of people saying, "Wow, cool!" they say, "I'm sorry." I studied abroad there. I admit that I, too, made fun of France when I first arrived in Lyon, where I spent my spring 2003 semester studying at the Université Lumière Lyon-II, or Lyon-II for short.
While lighting 261 birthday candles may not be the safest way to celebrate the birthday of the University's founder, several University students noted that the occasion of Thomas Jefferson's birth, on this day in 1743, is worthy of some celebration. "They should have trips to Monticello or exhibits in the library," second-year College student Ami Shah said. Third-year College student Rob Schwartz suggested a "University-wide field day" to fulfill Jefferson's prescription for two hours of exercise each day.
The man in the coonskin cap with the Bic pen wants $11 bills but you've only got 10s. You're confused. The week of class registration rolls on, which of course means that a whole other year of what was supposed to consist of academic achievement and extracurricular success has rolled off the hands of the clock and fallen flat into your fading memory.
Thinking of the usual ways students here spend their time together, certain patterns emerge in my mind.
Even though the spring weather keeps students guessing about what to wear everyday, they can take solace in knowing the frequent warm days signal the approach of the school year's end.
Picture this. It's finally a nice day here in the 'Ville, and you decide to go running -- big shocker.
They're taking over. Everywhere I turn, they're on flip-flops, headbands, shirts, bras, pants, belt loops, even watches.
You see them everywhere. They are worn in the warm days of the spring with a pair of khakis or in the dead of winter underneath fleece pants.
What's all the hullabaloo about the Hullabahoos? The a cappella group has been generating a lot of attention recently.
First off, this week's award for awesomeness goes to the house on 14th Street, around the low 200s, that has added the letters Pi Omega Omega to their porch.
It was 7 p.m. Monday evening, and I was injecting Dr Pepper into my veins and popping M&M's like they were candy, after that whole Daylight Savings change threw me out of whack.
There exists a common perception that bad things only happen to other people. This weekend, the residents of Sadler Court Apartments on 14th Street found out that this statement doesn't always ring true.
"How do you say your last name?" My new younger brother inquires in heavy Chilean Spanish (a dialect of its own). "Quillian," I reply. "Cu
Disclaimer: I am fully aware that most of you possess tales of terror, or at least whiny complaints, about your respective Charlottesville apartments.
"TheExamination period had always been a time of turbulency and strife -- a strange mixture of real scholastic endeavor and of genuine hell-raising.