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Members of an improv group stand on the first floor a fraternity, doing a humorous skit. The audience members are visibly entertained, smiling and laughing. Suddenly, caught up in the moment, a member of the improv group makes a joke that some might deem offensive or politically incorrect. The audience members’ expressions turn to ones of discomfort and distaste, some letting out nervous laughter and others whispering to their friends. Other members of the improv group continue on, glossing over the awkward and tense moment.
Hello, Mirror readers. Congratulations on making it to the weekend and, more importantly, being halfway done with 16W (we can barely believe it either).
Caroline Berens ’18: When I was trying to soften a Pop-Tart in the Fahey-McClane fourth floor kitchen, and I accidentally set the microwave to two minutes instead of twenty seconds. Within a minute the microwave, and then the entire kitchen, were engulfed in smoke, and I spent the rest of the night airing it out so the fire alarm didn’t go off. It wasn’t funny at the time, but it was the next day.
Greetings, Mirror readers. Congratulations on being (nearly) 1/12 done with 2016! (As Hayley writes this, ever-superstitious Caroline yells, “Knock on wood!” and loudly bangs her fist on a nearby table, causing other editors to look up in alarm. Hayley internally rolls her eyes at her younger co-editor’s childish antics.)
It’s a blustery Monday morning in the dingy Novack cellar. Coffee stains and overworked pre-meds haunt the desks. Oliver Welmed chews the bit with his lab partner/girlfriend/chess co-captain, Ivana Bræk over their morning gallon of espresso.
Take a cursory glance around the Green, and you’d be hard-pressed not to find at least one person sporting a Patagonia fleece or trudging through the snow in L.L. Bean boots. In the warmer months, it’s common to see people pattering across the grass in Birkenstocks or clad in plaid shirts and khakis.
Merriam and Webster define something sustainable as “able to be used without being completely used up or destroyed; involving methods that do not completely use up or destroy natural resources; able to last or continue for a long time.”
PUSHY SAM and PASSIVE SAM are discussing search tactics.
I finished my collegiate swimming career this past weekend and I still can’t believe it.
Environmental Studies 3, “Environment and Society: Towards Sustainability,” was my first class at Dartmouth. My daily walk to class was the only time which I’d ever happily walk from my dreaded River cluster dorm all the way to the Life Sciences Center.
One of the biggest problems I have with my day-to-day life here at Dartmouth is how hard it is to find time for fun reading. You know, fiction and non-fiction books and articles that I can read purely for my enjoyment without the pressure of an essay and a grade. Not to say I do not enjoy my readings for class; I do not consider this problem of mine to be one that is exacerbated by Dartmouth, per se. The issue is more about the insane amounts of time I spend in front of electronic screens. I doubt I am completely alone in this sentiment — even in these beautiful woods. But I do wonder if I could do a better job.
When I asked a family friend to recall the day of her mother’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease, she said she remembered feeling afraid.
“Geez, my head’s killing me!” Josie Cuervo laments, rising from her top bunk perch. It’s 3:00 P.M. on a Saturday afternoon. Josie remembers nothing. Glancing about the room, she sees a large stain on the ground, her bra resting amongst her windowsill Chia pets, and an empty space where her phone used to be. She hears a knock on her door.
SNOW SAM and ON A MISSAM are watching snow fall.
Greetings, Mirror readers. Thanks for taking the time to read the tangential musings that comprise these editor’s notes. Caroline and Hayley are impressed that their vehement views on social media and lack of New Year’s Resolutions haven’t scared you off yet.
It’s hard to believe that about 40 years ago, everyone ate at Thayer, not Foco, and that the Orozco Mural Room was the most social part of the library. But the biggest difference between Dartmouth now and then was not solely the dining hall location or the noise level of a particular room. The most startling change to me at the College has been the number of female students.
It was my last night in Paris. I wanted to stay out all night, walking the streets I’d learned, trusting the kindness I’d found, refusing the morning’s impending arrival.
To snap or not to snap? That is always the question. Waking up with bed head — not to snap (okay well maybe just to friends #wokeuplikethis). Morning KAF line — definite snap. Thursday night rager at Bar Hop — add a filter and snap that to your story ASAP! Snap what you want when you want and it will disappear in just 24 hours. Although snaps disappear after a few seconds, can they have long term effects on your mental health?
Happy Friday once again, Mirror readers. You, like us, are probably plummeting into disbelief and chagrin that we are already halfway through January. Maybe like Caroline, you’ve already given up on 16 of your 17 resolutions (the only successful one being to keep a daily gratitude journal, which is rapidly becoming illegible). Or maybe like Hayley, you completely forgot to make resolutions and are still in denial that is already 2016.