GUEST ROOM | How Composting Changed Me

My first-time composting did not end well. I was 19 and not great at handling adult responsibilities, but I wanted to be more ecologically ethical, so I gave it a try. Discouraged by the amount of counter space the compost pail took up, I pushed it under the sink where I promptly forgot about it. That is, until one day I remembered it was there and as I pulled it out and maggots spilled everywhere. Disgusted, I threw the whole thing away and did not even think about composting again until now.

NGUYEN | Of Meat & Men: Masculinity vs. Sustainability

You know you want it. The feeling is carnal. A primal lust. It’s irresistible — you can hardly hold back from that instinctual need to clasp your fingers around it, wrap your lips around its thick flesh, sink your teeth into that sumptuous parcel of indulgent sin. You want it.

HUA | Plastic Straw Paranoia

I collapsed into a chair in Libe with my third coffee of the day in hand. It was a typical college experience: running on little to no sleep for the third night in a row, desperately trying to cling on to every single neuron as I tried to finish everything before I lost another night of sleep. As I let out a long sigh, my friend shot daggers at me with her eyes. “What?” I asked, not entirely hiding my exasperation. “This is the second plastic straw you used today,” she replied, angry at my apparent lack of environmentalist fervor.