It's Greek to Me
If you'd asked me two years ago whether I would join a sorority in college, I probably would have given you the standard, skeptical, "Me?
If you'd asked me two years ago whether I would join a sorority in college, I probably would have given you the standard, skeptical, "Me?
Welcome to the rest of your life. Sounds dramatic, huh? It is. You are at a milestone in your life.
Before I came to the rolling green hills of New Hampshire, I was like any other incoming freshman -- not of age, anxious and, of course, spectacular in bed.
Nothing's worse than a dry, pretentious college kid. Well, okay, there's the college kid who finds that his summer job consists of writing articles about small town politics, choosing from such impressive issues as "should we open the '7-11' 24 hours a day?" or "can we put stools at the bar in the Chinese restaurant?" Not to say that this is my job.
Before I get to the column proper, let me say that I am appalled at the Republican annointee's choice for a running mate.
After all the hoopla created as much by the press as the campaign, presumptive GOP nominee George W.
Yes, it was inevitable. A sequel to the popular, yet controversial column that ran at the end of '98 Fall term was unavoidable: there are many things on this great green globe that deserve immortalization here.
I broke my arm late last week but I vowed to make every attempt not to let it ruin my Tubestock weekend.
Books are caskets, vainly walled against decomposing time: knowledge eternally embalmed. Lightly pressing the 1-inch wooden frame covered by thick, ornate, faded lambskin, the heavy, brass clasps snap open.
Recently, towards the beginning of a clear, warm Saturday night, I was strolling up South Main Street with a friend when we passed a number of teenagers sitting on, standing by, or skateboarding around one of the many benches that pleasantly line what is considered the center of Hanover.
To the Editor: This letter is in regard to the fire that occurred at Chi Gamma Epsilon fraternity in early December of last year.
Let me get right to the point. George W. Bush is going to be elected to the Presidency of the United States of America.
My parents, I suppose, would say I am blessed, blessed with this curse of a youthful face. For they know what it's like to start growing older, to feel younger than they look, to have to remember fondly the last time they were carded while buying a bottle of wine. I, on the other hand, have not yet reached that point.
I took the plunge during the first week of Spring term my freshman year. I think it was the final day of March -- for those of you in my year, you might recall that the temperature that week was unusually hot.
What can I say? A scrappy little snack has captured my heart. I have become utterly enraptured. Cheddar Chex Mix, with its peculiarly appealing amalgam of light Chex, dark Chex, pretzels and nuts, all lightly basted with a cheese flavoring, has taken hold of me.
Last week, the Palestinian Central Council (PCC), the quasi-legislative body of the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), announced plans to declare a Palestinian state at some point in the coming year.
To The Editor, In a not particularly subtle way, Morgan Cain's column last Friday suggests that Anna Kournikova is nothing but a pair of legs.
The summons came over Spring Break: Jury Duty was in store for the first week of my summer vacation.
I was driving up East Wheelock on my way to class this week and there were two police officers directing traffic around the public works project being carried out at the intersection by Berry Sports Center.