POGGI | We’re Too Old for This

In two days, I will turn 20. I will enter a second decade of life and become one of the many people I now know in their “twenties.” The thought makes me sick — people in their twenties go to cocktail bars and iron their shirts. They have real bosses and real jobs and real friends with real bosses and real jobs. Scariest of all, they think about marriage and children and settling down.

MEHLER | Birthdays at Cornell

Surprisingly, I was incredibly more productive on Saturday and Sunday. I finished my graduate school applications, completed readings for almost the next two weeks and studied for my prelim. By truly taking a day off, my other days were more efficient than if I had tried to work consistently through the whole weekend. I can only think of how my other birthdays might have been different had I viewed a full day off as so consequential to a coming successful week.

DO | Turning 20: Reflections on a Second Decade of Life

s column is published, I will be turning 20 years old in two days. It’s a big milestone, of course, leaving your teens. Even though 18 and 21 get most of the attention, entering one’s twenties marks yet another shifting of the line for what is considered adulthood.

ONONYE | Are you Feeling Twenty-Two?

My 22nd birthday was an excuse to be just-a-little-bit like Taylor for the day. It was my girl-group bracing the 35 degree Ithaca cold to sit outside for my birthday brunch, my law frat brothers threatening to make everyone in Libe Cafe sing happy birthday to me if I spent the day in the library, my parents nailing my birthday present and a shout out at the Nigerian Students’ Association’s Date Auction. 

BEARD | Keeping Track of Time

As I alluded to earlier, being a Cornell student is a full-time job. Moments of free time will be hard to come by and for the most part you’ll spend every day on “go-mode”. That’s not all bad though. I, for one, like being busy. Being a Cornell student certainly means you’ll be busy but it also means you’ll meet incredible people and do even more incredible things. A word of advice though; don’t let it all blend together.

Food Ethics | Growing Up With Chicha de Jora

I ran behind my mother as she walked toward the front door. I followed her knowing she was headed to the market. She looked back at me and smiled; she knew I never missed Saturday grocery shopping. She held my hand tight as I jumped around, the sun guiding our path to the market. As we stepped on rocks to cross the train rails, I finally saw the women selling chicha morada (sweet purple corn drink) by the entrance.