As I was exiting the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston the other day, I noticed a large crowd gathered outside in protest of the World Trade Organization (WTO) summit.
At this time of the year, people tend to think of huge blockbuster movies when they think of entertainment.
Many criticize welfare and other social spending programs as ineffective undertakings which provide all the wrong incentives for our nation's poor.
So here I was, talking to Career Services about the details of phone interviewing. You see, I have one of those coming up soon so I wanted to be set on what to expect for this type of interview.
A few weeks ago, I visited my high school in New Mexico, and it was a visit like none before it -- in complete calmness, and not without some sadness, I revisited the hallowed ground upon which my golden, final two years of high school had been etched. The first time I came back to visit (the summer after I graduated), I was inexplicably nervous, and felt acutely out of place (or "obtusely in place," whichever way you wanna cut the angle). After exchanging a friendly hug, a girl asked me, "Geez, why are you shaking?" After I told her Geez was actually one of my friends, I realized I couldn't answer the question.
This past weekend, while journeying to Montreal, I was struck by a strange yet logical thought: if there's this country bordering the U.S.
These days in the U.S., it seems like the government has declared open war on tobacco companies. Recent national laws have forbidden tobacco billboards within 1,000 feet of schools, free gifts with tobacco purchases, and at the center of it all ... lawmakers have raised prospects of increased cigarette taxes, and a new tobacco settlement may soon be reached.
During Green Key weekend last term, I and some fellow Asgardians had been drumming up publicity for our Green Key Dance (especially me, for I am the Publicity Exec.) when we encountered an unkind response to one of the event blitzes.
I was to meet U.S. House Democratic Leader Dick Gephardt one Saturday last term in Durham, N.H., at a brief little Young Dems function ("join us for coffee and danish," the flyer said.
Early on Saturday morning, as I and many others walked out to the Bema amid the light and grimy rainshower, we stood ready to venture out into the "real world" for a few hours: the DarCORPS project was about to reach fruition.