Overheard
Midterms have apparently drained us of common sense/basic brain function: "What are those territories, you know, in the Northwest of Canada called?" "The Northwest Territories?" "Oh yeah." '06 Girls, Collis. "What is skeet shooting?
Midterms have apparently drained us of common sense/basic brain function: "What are those territories, you know, in the Northwest of Canada called?" "The Northwest Territories?" "Oh yeah." '06 Girls, Collis. "What is skeet shooting?
A Student Responds to the bill that she believes infringes on the Human Rights of asylum seekers by stripping them of due process protections and limiting their access to essential services. The Bill also redefines Undocumented illegal Immigrants as felons and punishes anyone guilty of assisting them.
Yesterday I was playing "Risk: The Game of World Domination" and I got to thinking. Yes, thinking.
Once upon a time, there was an only-child named "Me." I was a happy little girl, content to hang out on my own, to play flip-bottle by myself and to boot on my rattle without being judged by any cradle-crampin' siblings.
Dear Hannah and Anna, I've really been crushing on this girl lately. She lives on my hall and we've gone through a full year of flirty banter.
My Spanish skills end there, but I respect the traditions of other countries, so I will be celebrating anyway.
I have never really thought about starting a blog, because I don't really think I would have enough deep/shallow thoughts to fill it and keep my readership happy.
Here's a style pointer so essential it deserves its own List: bags are beautiful things. You can wear the same one every day and not be guilty of laziness or lack of hygiene.
By Stephanie Herbert The Dartmouth Staff As columnist emeritus, I have spent the last two terms sequestered in my room, compulsively reading The D online and breaking my vow of silence only to sing Gregorian chants and, on particularly wild nights of solitude, babble in tongues while rocking back and forth, clutching my beloved stuffed hippo.
Hoots and hollers could be heard from Collis porch Wednesday afternoon -- and the votes weren't done processing for the Student Assembly presidential race.
As students at one of the most prestigious schools in Hanover, we should all strive to be well-mannered.
Dear Hannah and Anna, I did not realize how small Hanover was until I saw my professor swapping spit with her husband in the dry cereal isle of the Co-op.
Betrayal: "The Last American Virgi"
'07 Guy: "Could I get one of those blueberry rigs?" Novack employee: "You mean a scone?" Novack, Sunday night '07 Girl: "Whoa, Boobs." '06 Girl: "It's not her fault they're big." '07 Girl: "You know, I have large breasts too.
NERD ALERT! Because of my intense dedication to journalistic excellence, I have spent the better part of the last few days glued to my computer screen reading the diaries of strangers.
The tours are bigger. The NorthFaces are disappearing. The sun is occasionally visible. There's no mistaking it: springtime at Dartmouth has arrived.
I just had a painful realization. My life, since approximately age 12, has been a complete and utter sham.
Dear Prospective Student: Welcome to the hands-down tied for ninth best place on Earth. By now, you may or may not have been "dung" by that college you foolishly attempted to dirty rush, and it's time to realize that Dartmouth is the right house for you.