You Ponder This Dartmouth
Dear Hannah and Anna, I signed up for "Hunting Safety" to get closer to a hot boy, but am slowly realizing that it's a horrific idea.
Dear Hannah and Anna, I signed up for "Hunting Safety" to get closer to a hot boy, but am slowly realizing that it's a horrific idea.
We all know who J.D. Salinger is. We all got to know Holden Caulfield in high school; some of us even worship "Franny and Zooey" and the Glass family.
I believe it was the renowned entrepreneur Charles Edward Cheese who once said, "Birthdays are for suckers." Twenty-five years ago, this cheese-whiz caught onto the fact that society is full of money-shredding twelve-and-under year olds, most of whom were born at one point or another.
In the name of journalistic integrity, I should declare my allegiances: I'm a Mac girl. A recently converted one, though.
Being busy, stressed and largely self-involved can blind us to the great art on this campus. Here are a few works that are impressive and worth appreciating even if you're an art-fearing math/science type: Mark Di Suvero's X-Delta This is the enormous steel structure behind Loew that has a swing-like attachment suspended by cables.
I l-o-v-e people watching; if they had support groups for addicts, I would have to join. My favorite perch for watching the comings and goings of campus is on second-floor Robo.
Dear Hannah and Anna, As part of the seduction process, I lent my art history notes to a girl in my class that I wanted to "get to know better." Let's just say, mission accomplished.
Ladies, gentlemen, freshmen, etc.: Welcome back to Dartmouth. Spring is in the air, Main Street's Goth Bench is blooming, the Froyo Machine is chirping, and I'm happy to report that the Green is, well, on its way to being greenish.
Seven months ago following an intense sophomore summer, I sat down to write a paper for my Spanish class.
I have a challenge for you: find the changes in the Mirror. (Hint there is more than one and probably less than ten.) It is kind of like an early Easter egg hunt, but not really.
Dear Hannah and Anna, There's this guy who keeps asking me to play pong at his frat but I suck -- I really struggle keeping the ball on the table, let alone hitting or sinking a cup.
The Mirror takes a closer look at Dartmouth's most environment-friendly large passenger vehicle
Well, spring is in the air, and as the flowers blossom and hemlines rise, it seems from this week's quotes that the birds and the bees are also back to their old tricks.
With the exception of such classic maneuvers as challenging one's nemesis to a duel, perhaps no social weapon has gained quite as much currency on campus as accusing someone of having just performed a "self-call." Though it is perhaps now past its prime -- like the Eminem of pejorative exclamations -- I think that the phenomenon of self-calling, and more importantly the phenomenon of calling out self-calls, nonetheless deserves a turn under the dissection glass. Naturally, defining the self-call gets priority. Self-call (n.) -- 1.
In high school, many of us were constantly preoccupied with SATs, ACTs, GPAs, WNBAs, N*SYNCs, etc.