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Here we are. Week 10: The final stretch. Boy, it’s scary. At the end of every term and academic year, we find ourselves wondering how time has managed to just slip away. The unpredictability of spring term weather is a factor. April showers and wintery gusts of wind linger until Week 5, and then suddenly the sun comes out and summer is right around the corner. May is marked by wanting to live in the soreness in your limbs from standing so long at the Green Key concert, to the gentle chill of late night walks home from the library during finals season, and the creamy texture of IC4U ice cream that you’ve drowned in sprinkles. Now, we try to memorize the people whose smiles and laughs have made this year so meaningful.
Now that Green Key has passed, we ask — did “Everybody Talks” provide you with enough musical relief before finals? Did splashing around in puddles on Saturday unlock your inner child? Have you overcome the mountain of work that undoubtedly piled up throughout the weekend? We at Mirror hope your Green Key — whether it was your first or your last — lived up to your expectations.
Rock ‘n’ roll, Dartmouth – welcome to Week 8! Between the building anticipation for Green Key, the ubiquitous sickness around campus and the lead up to finals, it really feels like we’re in the home stretch. Now all we have to do now is make it through this marathon of a weekend. Though there will be very few quiet moments this week, maybe you can flip through some of our articles in between games of meniscus, Block Party and those public DFMOs that people are totally not going to think of every time they see you for the next few years.
With just a few weeks left of the term, time seems to slip through our fingers. Students snap graduation photos outside of Baker, smoothie-drinking sundress wearers dot the Green and the sun’s shimmering rays set later each day. Memories made this year are starting to settle, and we hope that you take some time for yourself this week to reflect on how this term has felt for you.
Week 6 has arrived. A rainy week reaffirmed the muddy misery that April in New Hampshire can bring, but hopefully we will be treated to the promised May flowers. Seniors, I hope you are celebrating the end of your time at Dartmouth while also overcoming the possible existential dread that your last term at Dartmouth may bring. The rest of you, I hope you are still trying to find a way to complete your work while every ’23 you know seems to be doing anything but working.
Is Week 5 getting anyone else down? No? Just us?
Just when we all thought the sun was here to stay, this week got off to a gray and gloomy start. This past weekend let us have a brief taste of summer –– between river dips under fierce bouts of sun to running hurriedly inside to escape cool April showers, visions of summer are beginning to seem closer. If only the summer preview had lasted a bit longer, but alas, Hanover continues to jolt between hot and cold, reminding us that springtime here is nothing short of unpredictable.
This Sunday, after many falls, curse words and newly formed bruises on my body, I discovered I’m not nearly as good of a skier as I thought I was.
Take a look at the weather report for the rest of this week. I mean it. Stop reading this editors’ note, whip out your phone and open the weather app right this second. You see those cheerful sun icons? The absence of any ominous numbers below 40? Those dreamy highs in the 70s and 80s? That’s right, those tingly butterflies hinting at the possibility of a Friday afternoon spent joyously wiping grass from the Green off your rear end are real. That Saturday post-darty exhaustion now peeks in through the window and waits patiently for the possibility of a nap. Regret over failing to apply sunscreen before your weekend hike — and having to frantically scramble to buy aloe vera — now knocks gingerly on your door. Oh, what a magical time it is to be in Hanover, New Hampshire!
If you’re reading this, it means you survived Week 1 — congrats!
The final traces of winter are starting to disappear, and April is almost among us. Students are trading puffer jackets for bombers, bare-legged frisbee players are returning to the Green and the small clumps of lingering snow are finally melting away. Each day, the sun shines down on Hanover for a few minutes longer, bringing us more warmth and certainty that this term is going to be a good one.
Do you remember your first dream job? Not the one that you wanted when you were four and the only careers you knew were doctor, artist and airplane pilot, but the one you had your heart set on after discovering your first real passion.
When I was sixteen, I broke up with my high school boyfriend in the worst way possible. Let me set the scene: It’s the week before Valentine’s Day and I’m sitting at the dinner table doing homework; I was reading “Pride and Prejudice” for class — all too ironic. My phone won’t stop buzzing because my boyfriend and I are text-arguing about whatever high schoolers fight over. The distraction is driving me crazy because at that time I cared about school more than most things — including relationships — and I got so annoyed that I just called him up and ended it. On the phone. The week of Valentine’s Day.
This article is featured in the 2023 Winter Carnival special issue.
This article is featured in the 2023 Winter Carnival special issue.
The year is 2007 and I am five years old, standing in a Blockbuster. My dad says I can pick out any movie I want, and I choose the original “Nosferatu” and an unmemorable B horror movie. When I try to fall asleep after our amateur double feature, I can’t. For the first and last time, I am truly frightened by a movie, so scared that I don't sleep the entire night. I consider this a watershed moment in my life — the first time a film evoked any emotion in me.
It’s week 9 and I’m tired. Between problem sets and outlines for final papers, I’m looking for an escape. So whether you’re on the market for a movie that will scare you more than finals or a book to curl up with once you’re home for Thanksgiving, here are five of my favorite fall stories with fall written all over them — pun not intended.
Scrolling through an “Architectural Digest” article on the most beautiful college dorms in America, I’m not even a little surprised that Dartmouth didn’t make the cut. Although my family and friends from home have often called our campus idyllic, that’s probably because they’ve never had to use the gender-neutral bathroom in the Masses or decide whether or not to turn on the sterile overhead lights in the Choates while they’re hooking up with someone. Despite the challenges presented to students by our shabby dorms, some have managed to make it work.
This article is featured in the 2022 Homecoming special issue.
I smoked my first cigarette when I was 17. The week before, I had been hired at a pseudo-hipster falafel and kabob restaurant, where I had instantly fallen in love with my punk, college-dropout coworker who took smoke breaks about every other hour. Naturally, I asked one of my friends to “teach” me how to smoke, so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself if my coworker ever asked me if I wanted a cigarette.