Avoiding the after-college question
With Parents Weekend quickly approaching I've got two things on my mind. One of which may or may not include hiring Merry Maids to come and salvage what's left of my apartment. "Mom, I swear it came this dirty!"
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With Parents Weekend quickly approaching I've got two things on my mind. One of which may or may not include hiring Merry Maids to come and salvage what's left of my apartment. "Mom, I swear it came this dirty!"
I thought I was going to get over this, but the more I think about it, the madder I get.
Recently I've been waking up with night sweats and experiencing a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. At first, I suspected that I had been bitten by a radioactive spider and decided that before I was ready to take on the Green Goblin, I would have to trade in my identity for a red and blue mesh onesy from American Apparel (what? I might as well get something I can wear to the lodges, too).
OK, so this topic is very near and dear to my heart. Every time I think about it, I just can't help getting a bit fired up ... about Boatwright bathrooms. Why, why, why are the restrooms in the most awkward places in the library?
Our campus is absolutely phenomenal in every possible way. The grass is always neatly cut and maintained, flowers droop off of trees and bushes to the end of every perfectly constructed winding path and students are always exquisitely outfitted and flawlessly put-together. Maybe the wizard was nothing more than a fairy tale, but it certainly seems that Oz has been brought to real life.
CARDIO - GET PHYSICAL!
On Sunday, wearing my graduation robe along with the rest of the University of Richmond senior women, going through Proclamation Night for the second time, was a bit surreal.
In June of 2008, President Emeritus of Middlebury College John McCardell launched the Amethyst Initiative at the Annapolis Group, an organization of 120 liberal arts colleges. The Amethyst Initiative, a movement to lower the drinking age to 18, has been signed by 135 college presidents across the nation.
Dear Collegian,
I think it's safe to say that you can't classify a person in just a few words. But I also think it's safe to say that there are definitely "types" of people.
I didn't sleep well last Thursday. I had one of those "half-asleep" nights in which you wake up and make the mistake of looking at your cell phone for the 10th time. By then, your mind is already racing, and you are fully awake. What made this Thursday night different were the two "Tickler" articles in The Collegian last week keeping me awake.
They say 60 percent of married couples meet in college. But don't fret; if you don't meet someone in college, 50 percent of them are getting a divorce anyway. Oh well. Here goes nothin':
You'd think that working out is working out, plain and simple ‐ whether it be running on the treadmill at home, trying to drop your recently acquired college pounds or fooling yourself into thinking that you can keep them off at the lovely Richmond gym ‐ and you'd think that all workouts are created equal. Wrong.
Despite our intensive experience in the art of human interaction by the age of 18 years, a lot takes place in our subconscious during our interactions with others that completely evades the detection of our self-awareness radars. In fact, successful communication (not agreement with others, but our ability to get a message across to them) can occur because of our reliance on basic assumptions that we subconsciously make on a regular basis.
Imagine that a certain someone (me) walks up to the doors of Gottwald on a weekend. This person (me), being a bio major, expects to be able to get into an academic building after hours. He grabs the door handle, and — thud! — discovers he's locked out.
Once upon a time, there was a mystical, magical land where beer grew on trees, boys only wore pants and bowties that looked like the Easter bunny threw up on them and textbooks, cigarettes, microwaveable burritos, alcoholic beverages and other pleasantries could be purchased with special currency that magically refilled itself each semester (or with one desperate call to Mom).
A few years ago, a friend of mine, who I'll call Steph for the sake of privacy, was fast asleep in her University of Richmond Forest Apartment. Steph and her boyfriend had fallen asleep while watching a movie together on her futon downstairs. It hadn't been long before Steph had fallen asleep when all of a sudden she began to feel a little ... tickle.
During the past few days, The Collegian staff has heard many rumors, stories and questions about some violent and disturbing incidents that occurred on campus last weekend. As a staff, we have attempted to learn as much as possible about the recent events, but unfortunately, much of the information either remains unknown or is being withheld.
Dear Natasha,
Instructor: Any fitness professional available to you.