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(05/15/98 9:00am)
Fourty or 50 people packed into the small smoky room. Wires from microphones and amplifiers snaked around the bands playing on the makeshift stage. Purple Christmas lights, bulbs large enough to see the filament flaming, shot surreal purple rays from the ceiling pipe above the speakers. An eclectic mix of familiar and unfamiliar people lounged in worn living room chairs or stood against fake wood paneling. Even with guitars screaming and whining through the dim, hazy space, the music held a trance-like calm quality. Watching my friend play the guitar, it was one of those times I wished I were a rock star.
(04/22/98 9:00am)
Tomorrow is Dartmouth College Stress and Anxiety Awareness Day. I know this because my friend forwarded me a blitz about it.
(04/07/98 9:00am)
It is not often that we receive blitzes from President James O. Freedman at four o'clock in the morning. The thinly veiled "special announcement" signaled a major transition on campus in the coming hours. We would learn the name of Freedman's successor, Dartmouth's sixteenth president.
(03/09/98 11:00am)
Perdon, donde esta el metro?" Dressed in London wool and laden with an oppressive backpack, I wasn't prepared for balmy Madrid and its metro in hiding. The woman rattled something off in the sort of Spanish you just don't learn in high school. Then she pointed. "Ah, si. Gracias." I walked across the street and nearly got hit by a car. "The right side of the road," I mumbled to myself. "What am I doing here?"
(02/16/98 11:00am)
Ooh, rock me Amadeus."
(01/28/98 11:00am)
Right now, I know something that virtually no college student in America knows. It's not in any of Baker's 2.1 million volumes and no professor is teaching it. Did you read the World and Nation page of this paper? My mailed subscription won't put this issue in my mailbox for another week, but I can already tell you what's on page two. And tomorrow's page two. I am completely current on all the news of the outside world.
(01/14/98 11:00am)
Fishnet tights in powder pink. With the tack-o-meter flashing in the red, I extricated the package in wonder from its beige pantyhose cousins. While my mind's eye began to imagine my legs in pink netting, my real eyes popped open like champagne corks. Thirty pounds? Multiplied by 1.7 ... 50 dollars?! I dropped them as if I'd been bitten. Gucci smucci. There will be no '80s fashion revival this week.
(01/07/98 11:00am)
F2 enters the slug, and control-F9 splits the screen, but remember, within an E-V queue, shift-F2 switches sides, and shift-F10 prints. You understand?"
(11/25/97 11:00am)
"O concete prosim, vystup a nastup dvere se zaviraji." The words trill from my lips in a flawless Czech accent. Add some red lipstick and an icy sneer and I could easily pass for the evil communist temptress of American Cold War movies. Throw in an audience who actually spoke Czech, however, and gales of laughter would follow. After spending a week in Prague, my crowning Czech achievement was, "Attention please, the subway doors are closing."
(11/18/97 11:00am)
He flipped his Yankees cap to the back and flashed his post-orthodontia grin in cocky self-assurance. "Oh man, that's AWESOME!" he boomed unnecessarily to the Tommy Hilfiger poster boy sitting inches away. "You went up to that guy and told him Britain sucks?! You are the BOMB!" The final silent 'b' flew in shock waves around the London Underground, zinging painfully into the ears of everyone in the subway car. Standing nearby with my vinyl shoulder bag and urban "don't-mess-with-me" facial expression, my eyes did an amused pan of the nearby travelers.
(10/17/97 9:00am)
There's a fungus among us. Or so it appeared in the bathroom mirror. The first red annular blob appeared on my chest a week after I arrived in London. I chalked it up to sensitive skin until a dozen of his spotty friends arrived on my torso a few days later. I squinted at them suspiciously in the mirror, but with classes starting and great London Indian food to be found, I had no time to fret about thirteen little red patches. I gave them the raspberry, but the little red monsters would not be ignored.
(10/08/97 9:00am)
I wound carefully through a sea of suits. Like oil beads moving in a glass of water, tired briefcase-laden commuters glided past one another, jockeying for a glimpse of the enormous digital board displaying the locations of departing trains. Over the loudspeaker, information blared in an almost incomprehensible dialect of English. Welcome to Paddington Station, London, England.
(08/06/97 9:00am)
I stared wistfully at the yellowish-brown mush. With a heavy heart, I picked up the wooden spoon and attempted to prod it back to life. To no avail, my second attempt to cook Indian food produced nothing more than pained expressions. I peered into the pot at the burnt pungent mess and lamented that it had once been a perfectly good potato. It hadn't looked so grim when my teacher was making it.
(07/22/97 9:00am)
There are some things in life you can depend on. Every day in elementary school, at the stroke of noon my class would march single-file to the lunchroom. As if guiding airplanes to the runway, the lunchroom aides channeled the lines of children straight onto the benches of the beige lunch tables. Knowing this was to be the case, it was very important that I strategically position myself in line between two of my friends, lest I be forced to sit near someone I didn't like -- in seven-year-old terms, a boy.
(07/11/97 9:00am)
Dating at Dartmouth. Columnist love advice has become trendier than blue nail polish. Want to hear my theory on the psychological affects of the color green on Dartmouth dating habits? Want to hear me make broad generalizations on what one-thousand very different people are looking for in a date? No, of course you don't. Foolish dating columns -- the buck stops here.
(06/27/97 9:00am)
My cousin recently bought me what she claimed would be the most amazing pair of sandals ever to embrace my oversized feet. From her glowing praise, it sounded like these podiatric pleasures would not only make my toes sing out in joy, but just might also win friends and influence people.
(06/18/97 9:00am)
In 1984, I had a Cabbage Patch doll named Frederika Joanie. I also owned nine My Little Ponies and the Dream Stable. Transformers and Gobots always seemed dumb "boy toys," but Tickle-Me Elmo was sort of neat.
(05/16/97 9:00am)
I'll have Dartmouth Life for $200 please, Alex."
(05/09/97 9:00am)
I have a very unsettled feeling in my stomach. I can accept that the job world will hit me in T-minus two years. What I find more difficult to handle is that it's hitting me now -- my '97 friends are leaving my college world. Some I may never see again.
(04/22/97 9:00am)
It happens all the time. You'll be walking down the street, sitting in the reserve corridor, or otherwise lounging in a public place. Not paying attention, your subconscious begins to guide your thoughts in aimless patterns. Just as your mind settles on some important topic such as who was in your fifth-grade class or the realization that so many things are made out of plastic, a voice cries out in friendly greeting, jolting you back to reality.