Next Tuesday, more than 17 million Americans, or 5 percent of the U.S. population, will have elections for their state governments.
We, the students, are at a crossroads. We, as a collective body, have seen many changes in the past 12 months at University of Richmond.
Last Friday afternoon, I was hacking away at Chinese privet in a national park with a lopper, a cutting tool.
Anyone who follows Richmond Confessions on Facebook knows that scrolling through those sad, funny and sometimes blatantly weird posts is the perfect way to procrastinate an evening away.
Drunken hooking up is fun and liberating, and since I've been in America, I've been in awe of how easily you can initiate one-night-only relationships.
Medical school is supposed to teach students how to be doctors. Or so we think. The University of California, San Francisco implemented a new policy for its medical students regarding academic credit.
I believe the students at UR are familiar with the bikes I refer to. You know, the yellow ones, average in size, mediocre in steering, yet effective in getting people where they want to go.
Social media confounds me. LinkedIn, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, Foursquare, Google Plus+, Meetup, Flickr, Wordpress, MySpace, StumbleUpon and Facebook.
In the first seconds of "reasons to be pretty," the audience is confronted with an emotional, fiery, invective-laden fight surpassing anything I've seen on reality TV.
UR Police Chief David McCoy will shed light on the policies and programs of the university police as part of a new column in The Collegian.
Who went to the Richmond Street Art Festival? Wasn't that so cool? On the days that the Street Art Festival was going on, I couldn't look at social media without seeing a flood of pictures of UR students standing in front of those murals, smiling proudly at discovering this fun, alternative part of the city.
Just as we thought Robin Thicke and his arguably misogynistic product slipped into the past along with the rest of this summer's guilty pleasures, the universities of Edinburgh and Leeds, UK, have dragged him back into the spotlight by banning his song "Blurred Lines" in affiliated nightclubs. No doubt, keyboard feminists are deeming this another chink in his garishly sexist armour, but how wrong they are.
A few weeks ago, I ventured into a space I would normally avoid: a fraternity apartment party. Notoriously hyper- and hetero- sexualized, this bedrock of the college party scene is a place in which, as a queer woman, I generally feel uncomfortable. But hey, lesbians like to drink and dance too -- and sometimes a frat party is the best place to do that. It was a great time.
They say change is good. But when it comes to Apple's new iOS7 update, the change doesn't seem so good after all. I am a complete lover of all Apple products and own many, but I just cannot seem to understand the hype surrounding the new software system. Before I go on to criticize the system and the people who obsessed over it, I will say that I did, in fact, download it.
Could it happen today? A young man is deceived, beaten within inches of his life with a gun and left for dead, tied to a fence post in the middle of nowhere.
The following is an interview with Samantha Bonom, '99, a senior content producer for Y&R, a marketing and communications company based in New York City. What did you study at University of Richmond and what were your post-graduation plans? I studied marketing with a specific interest in advertising.
"I don't know anything about the candidates." "I don't really do political stuff." "I have to ask my mom." "I'm superrrrr busy.
I don't think that there was anything I could have done to prepare myself for University of Richmond orientation. Hearing the campus police chief, a law enforcement officer, talk about how he knows that we will all drink (underage) but that the campus police were there to keep us safe really made me feel like I was in the "cool" parents' house in some disturbing new MTV show.
It's one of the most awkward experiences man has confronted. When faced with this challenge, the most interesting man in the world was reduced to silence.
Shelley Goldsmith was an exceptionally normal college kid. An honors student with a full merit scholarship to nearby University of Virginia, she spent her time volunteering, hiking, sailing, playing tennis and hanging with her friends and Alpha Phi sisters. How I know so much about Shelley is because this exceptional woman did something completely normal for any college student: She made a bad choice.
