You Ponder This Dartmouth
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.
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.
By Michael Xiao Before you take anything I write seriously in this article, let me tell you a story about myself.
Its hard to avoid making self-calls at a place like Dartmouth. For one, we all turned down Harvard to come here.
We are an intelligent bunch, or so they lead us to believe, and we all have passions, talents and awesome stories to share -- so I don't get this recent trend of censoring our discourse by uttering, or at times, shouting, "self callll." I am afraid we limit our ability to express our true selves by confining conversation topics to anything but ourselves.
Boy, is my face red. I've been eating my words ever since I printed a column last week about this year's lack of a true Dartmouth winter.
"Do you think that the male equivalent of the vajayjay is the panini?" '06 girl, post-"Grey's Anatomy." "So, she's on my shit list.
Hearing that DDS was going to cap my Topside spending at $100 crushed me. What will happen to my late-night splurges on Ben and Jerry's and Goldfish?
"Guest-Host Relationships" in great literature/bard-songs are go-to topics to bring up for discussion when you're trying to score points in any Classics or English class here at Dartmouth.
Welcome, to Episode 3 of the Sonic Rage Cage, and as they say, "Third is the one with the hairy chest." The theme of this week's Mirror is "Team Topside," and even though that has no relevance to music, we will stick to the topic of our column.
In the early 90s, most kids were watching "Clarissa Explains It All" or "Legends of the Hidden Temple." Nickelodeon was okay, I guess, but for me, Lifetime was where it was at.
I remember when $100 was a lot of money. Many years ago, I recall watching a show hosted by that consummate entertainer Bozo the Clown.
I fear for the freshmen, I really do. I fear that they have accepted this term's weather as the norm for a Dartmouth Winter. I feel a bit like an old lady talking to my grandkids about my six-mile walks to school through blizzards and ice storms that they just "couldn't understand". But sometimes being a senior feels like being an old lady (too bad I can't get a double discount -- senior citizen and student -- at the movies). And I want to make sure the younguns around here "get it". (Note: I'm really only saying this because I'm jealous that you have three more years here.) As much as I hate the cold and I hate the salt on my pants, the Dartmouth Winter is something every Dartmouth student must embrace.