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Last October Dr. Pauline Chen published an article, "Medical Student Distress and the Risk of Doctor Suicide," in The New York Times about suicide rates among physicians and medical students.
So this has been a pretty rough week for the ladies of 905. There's been quite a bit of comfort eating (bags and bags of chocolate Easter eggs), a lot of late night pillow talking, significant amounts of girl-on-girl cuddling and a few tears (per second).
Alright, so let's clear things up here: I'm no longer an employee of The Collegian. I loved my time on staff, but during my last four weeks of college, I'm excited to be able to spill my opinions and reflections without having any of the constraints of a Collegian staffer or editor. As such, I will be brutally honest, occasionally self-serving and probably controversial in my columns during the next few weeks, so I hope you read, relate to and respond to them.
Question: Based on recent news coverage, how well did Geraldine Ferraro pave the way for future women leaders?
In the last edition of The Collegian, opinion editor Liz Monahan asked: "What do we really learn in college?"
As I sat at the head of a long table tucked away in the corner of Mom's Siam Thai restaurant, I looked at the young, happy people at my table and couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly drunk. I had not had any alcohol at this point; rather, I was completely and utterly love drunk. I was surrounded by my closest friends at this school and couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of affection for all of them. I also couldn't help but laugh because more than half of them were Collegian staff.
It always seems that my best writing occurs after two in the morning. I'm not sure why. Maybe a science major could explain it to me. But I've been meaning to write to The Collegian for the last three and a half years and never got around to it. Now seems as good a time as any, before all the other seniors start getting nostalgic and hogging the space in April.
Believe it or not, The Collegian editor-in-chief isn't always the most popular person on campus.
My friends and I love to complain to one another. It's something we do almost daily. Although this is more so for something to talk about - usually our problems are minuscule, and we know this, we just feel like complaining - the whole thing got me thinking: What makes happiness?
Deciding what to write about has not been an easy task because there are so many topics that I feel I have neglected. I wanted to write about the institution of marriage and affirmative action (negative and positive sentiments, respectively, as I hope avid Collegian readers could have guessed). I wanted to write about racism (and its rampant prominence in this country), and about roadkill (it gives me emotional meltdowns). There are a lot of extremely important issues that I never got around to tackling, and for that I apologize.
Your car would not run very well on unclean fuel nor would it be able to get you where you need to go if the tank is on "E." I liken this scenario to the human body. It must be replenished with proper nourishment after it has been broken down due to physical activity. So why would you want to knowingly sabotage all of your well-intentioned efforts in the gym by not fueling up afterward? Perhaps he or she is uninformed or deliberately neglecting exercise regimes. I posit that it seems relatively easier to throw some dumbbells around in the gym but it takes a more concerted effort when paying attention to the proper fuel consumption and when to execute your meals. Those who think they can diet without exercising and those who think they can eat whatever they want because they exercise, are sadly misguided.
So if I were to ask you whether you wanted to try the inverse-reverse with me, what would you think? Stop pretending for a minute that your mind isn't wandering to some sort of crazy sex position that involves a month-long membership to a yoga studio before attempting ... now get your mind out of the gutter thinking about flexible chicks in tight black yoga pants doing downward dogs long enough to hear me out about cuddling.
Hello Dean Newcomb,
Last night I had a strange dream. I dreamt that I was standing at the edge of a cliff called academia. As I stood, overlooking the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below, I heard a large crowd approaching from behind.
I logged onto Facebook and in the upper left corner were an astounding 35 friend requests. After breaking for dinner and returning a couple of hours later, I had about 100 more.
This article is dedicated to an underappreciated part of the Richmond student body: the international students.
As many regular Collegian readers know, there has recently been an ongoing online debate surrounding an article written two weeks ago by Zak Kozuchowski, titled "New business program for men upsets some women."
Let's talk ta-tas. Yes, its about time we went there, loyal readers. Let's talk about boobs.
On the evening of February the 23rd, I returned home to find a pile of neglected mail awaiting me. One such neglected letter came from the School of the Arts and Sciences, directly. I opened the letter.
There is a force in life that propels us. It persuades us with clear and convincing evidence. It twists our arms until we cry uncle. It's scary. It's mysterious. It's a huge motivator for why we do what we do at any given moment.
