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(03/18/10 6:56am)
You can tell a storm is coming when cows huddle up together. The faster a cricket chirps, the hotter the day will be. The louder you can hear the train whistle in the distance, the better the weather. Or so my grandmother, and the worn pages of her Farmer's Almanac, insists.
(02/25/10 6:44am)
Ah, the mid-semester crunch: the week or so before Spring Break when professors refuse to acknowledge the demands of other classes, TAs are overwhelmed to the point of becoming useless and Penn students become notably hermitic.
(02/18/10 9:38am)
Most of my friends don’t know where the Charles Addams Fine Arts Hall is.
(02/11/10 4:30am)
I have never seen so much snow fall in an urban setting in my entire life. Not even close. Sure, I had snow days in high school — but in Atlanta, snow days mean a half-inch of winter white and a city of Southerners scared to drive while it’s flurrying. For me, snow has always been a quickly melting novelty; I was utterly shocked and delighted when my snow boots were still necessary to trek to class on Monday.
(02/04/10 8:33am)
I'm all for supporting good causes, but there is little that gets under my skin quite like those pesky volunteers that stand on corners around campus soliciting money for various charities. Whether it’s dying polar bears or women's rights, most are obnoxious and all are extremely hard to avoid.
(01/28/10 7:36am)
So, you picked up Street. You’re probably sitting in class, not even trying to hide that you’re not paying attention to a single thing the professor says. Or you’re in Houston, eating overpriced sushi, reading the magazine because you’re sick of talking to people (or they’re sick of talking to you). Regardless: it’s Thursday, and you’ve checked out.
(01/21/10 10:41am)
A lot of people have really great stories about Y2K.
(12/10/09 8:53am)
To the Punchbowl:
Whatever!
As IF!
Double loser with a twist!
x 2 = YOU.
(12/03/09 8:10am)
This is my last editor’s letter. Ever. Even though Street is printing next week, by then the new board will have taken over and I will be completely washed up. I have been involved with Street since the first week of my freshman year, and now I will be unceremoniously cut loose. And I am freaking out about it.
(11/19/09 6:39am)
Oh, Shoutouts, you are a fickle mistress. Some people think you are too mean. Some people think you are too tame. Sometimes you ruin lives. Sometimes you enhance them immeasurably. One time the Inquirer wrote an article about you, but they just didn’t get it. Shoutouts, for better or worse, you are Penn.
(11/12/09 6:19am)
Last week I attended my first preceptorial ever. It’s not that I hadn’t wanted to go to one before this semester, but rather I was systematically shut out of every cheese-tasting, Barnes Foundation-going, ceramics-learning preceptorial imaginable for the past six semesters. So when I got into Food Cart Culture this fall (off the waitlist, no less), I was excited. A class about food carts, without exams or grades, surrounded by other cart obsessees? Awesome. Only it wasn’t.
(11/05/09 7:02am)
However paradoxical it may seem, college has made me and my friends much less crazy, at least as far as school is concerned. In high school, we were those kids who graduated in the top 10 of their class and would fight for that extra half point on their AP Chem test. And now? Not so much.
(10/29/09 3:47am)
Tomorrow is my 22nd birthday. This is officially a non-exciting birthday. Who cares about 22? Nobody. To make myself feel better about 22, I will share with you the highlights of my Big Birthdays from the past decade:
(10/22/09 12:08am)
Thanks to three consecutive midterms, I ended up spending Fall Break in Philly. I don’t even know if it could be called a break (how Penn thinks that canceling Monday’s classes constitutes a vacation is beyond me), but it did allow for some quality time with my equally midterm-challenged roommates. One night we even managed to tear ourselves away from our procrastinating and head to the Bridge.
(10/08/09 5:58am)
For all of you non-journalism nerds, I apologize for the next 300 words, in which I will proceed to totally geek out. Most of you probably don’t know this, but last weekend the Daily Pennsylvanian celebrated its 125th anniversary (for reference, 34th Street is a relatively youthful 41 years old). 125 years! That is obscene. And awesome.
(10/01/09 6:11am)
I went to my first Penn party the January of my senior of high school. Fresh off the high of my early admittance, I visited a friend from home who was a freshman living in the Quad, and took in all of Penn’s earthly delights. And that’s when I heard it — the one song that would play at every single party I would attend from there on out. Yes, on that most fateful of nights, I heard “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey: the song I hate to love.
(09/24/09 4:25am)
As humans, we are all driven by fear: fear of loss, fear of failure, fear of insignificance. But we college students (or, at least, we Penn students) are driven by another type of fear: the fear of missing out. My friend Daniella introduced me to the concept (FOMO, as she calls it) a couple of years ago, and it’s grip on me has only grown stronger since. Plus that whole "being a senior" thing is freaking me out a bit.
(09/17/09 8:12am)
Let’s be real: freshmen are on the bottom of the food chain. Most arrive at Penn without any friends, some have to live sans AC in Hill and pretty much none can get into Smoke’s. The first semester of school is spent navigating Penn’s bizarre social terrain while not completely destroying your GPA (or liver) before January. You get homesick and want to go home. You get sick sick and want to go home.
(04/23/09 5:39am)
With Fling (regrettably) over and reading days just a week away, I sat down to write this semester’s last letter with a mild case of writer’s block. I’ve written a lot this year. I’ve written about rock concerts, the Gap, gay bathhouses, the Roots — and that was just for my classes. Street has allowed me to write about Girl Talk, Miss Philadelphia, 90210… and pretty much whatever else was on my mind during any given week.
(04/16/09 6:49am)
Twas the day before Fling, and up to campus’s edge,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a pledge.
The booze had been smuggled into the Quad with care,
In hopes the RAs wouldn’t know it was there.