I did not want to come to the University of Virginia. I had my heart set on another school, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways.
When something like this happens, it is impossible to ignore. We have all heard the statistics: 33 dead, 15 injured, countless other emotional wounds.
As finals draw closer, we are con-fronted more than ever by the funda-mental problem of student life here at the University: how to put off our work as long as possible without flunking out of school. I like to think I'm a pretty good procrastinator.
Rarely, if ever, a mistake somehow slips by the incredible editorial staff here at The Cavalier Daily.
When I turned nine, my parents let me have my first sleepover party. Of course, individual friends had been allowed to spend the night at my house a few times before then.
Inspired by the recent controversy about Jaber-woke's dress code, I have decided to ponder various Corner establishments.
When I was little girl, I had very big dreams for my eventual professional life. You know the old mantra of a person being "a doctor, a lawyer and an Indian chief?" Though it may be politically incorrect, it pretty much summed up my youthful ambitions: I wanted to be everything. As everyone -- from my coworkers to the girl behind me in line at Bodo's -- keeps reminding me, graduation is fast approaching.
The Beatles once sang, "I get by with a little help from my friends." After Yoko, that philosophy didn't hold up so well, but somehow I still have faith.
Around this time last year, I was on the beach in Cape Town, South Africa. I actually got a tan, which, given my freckled Irish skin, is pretty miraculous. Now I'm wading through icy slush to class.
I've had a glimpse of the real world, and boy is it scary. To our MTV generation, "real world" is taken to mean one of two things: 1) that scary undeterminable expanse that confronts us after graduation, or 2) the supposed-reality show that airs every Wednesday night.
