Columns

LEUNG | Just the Beginning

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With only around three weeks of freshman year left — and that includes the study period and finals — the nostalgia is real. Even though I’m only a freshman and I can’t imagine what the seniors are going through, there’s something special about the first year at a university; there are some things that happen freshman year which will most likely never happen again. Will I miss the lack of air conditioning in my dorm room? The buffet-style dining halls that make me eat far more than necessary to make up for the over-priced swipe? The cramped living quarters that make catching a cold all-year round inevitable?

Columns

HARDIN | Enjoy Responsibly

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Responsibility is scary. People don’t like being reminded that they are responsible for everything they do, and that these actions have consequences. While some things are obviously out of our control, the world is the way it is because of the things people do. To someone like me, who can barely find her toothbrush in the morning, this seems an alarming level of responsibility. However, it’s not at all uncommon to hear about the World-Changing-Impact one single person can have.

advice

READ MY MIND | It’s Time For Me to Sleep

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I’m tired. Tired of crying, tired of thinking, tired of being. Everything hurts but I don’t understand what exactly because it also all feels empty. And there are no more tears to cry because it’s all empty now. And that’s ok because it’s quiet.

Columns

WHAT’S UP, DOC? | The Price of Success

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If you’ve ever taken a psych class, odds are you’ve heard of the Stanford marshmallow experiment. Children were told that they could either eat a marshmallow immediately or wait 15 minutes and have two marshmallows. Some of the kids gobbled up the marshmallow right away while others were able to hold out for the big payoff at the end of the test. The study was a landmark look at delayed gratification, and later studies showed that the kids who could hold out for that second marshmallow went on to greater academic and professional success than the kids who couldn’t. Delayed gratification equals success.

Blogs

WHITE KNUCKLES | Spell it Right

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Starbucks never gets my name wrong: bold and thick, the four letters written with the sharpie mark my Cinnamon Chai Latte with comforting exactitude. My mother hated her name, could not bear the length of it, the excessive r’s and the harshness of the t, or maybe because of the fact that it was two names stitched together. For me, she wanted something short, the smoothness of the bilabial consonant, the bright ringing of vowels; she liked the literariness to it and its universality. It is impossible to mispronounce, to be  corrupted by accents or unconventional variations or too many confusing syllables. During my exchange year in Maine, my little host brother used to spell it “Ma,” because “M is pronounced Em, and a is pronounced a.” Like the clarity of a crystal, it was simple and immediate.