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(12/05/18 6:20pm)
The number of times I’ve revised this letter is inexcusable when you consider that I have a final exam on Thursday. But it’s hard to extricate myself from the idea—mostly self–imposed—that whatever I write here will define my tenure as Street’s Editor–in–Chief. But it won't, and the spillage of empty space on the document in front of me is a good reminder that I can say pretty much whatever.
(11/28/18 4:35pm)
Alas, the bitter end. I haven't been impeached or overthrown (yet), but I do have a successor. Soon, my chair will be filled by the beautiful, dutiful Annabelle Williams. But I can still have my last hurrah. I technically have one letter left, but I think it's only right that I finish my tirades here. I know that y'all have so enjoyed reading about my opossum sightings, my run–ins with black ice, and my pensive platitudes about making the most out of your undergraduate career. It's time for me to pass the mic. And I won't make this into a mushy goodbye. Annabelle deserves to write her first letter from the editor next week, as she will have overseen much more of that issue than I.
(11/14/18 1:00pm)
Remi? Who is she? Some of you may be wondering where our usual Letter from the Editor writer is. Well, Nick is out of town and that means I am the captain now. That being said, any complaints and angry emails should be directed to joyner@34st.com, thanks.
(11/08/18 9:21pm)
"de gustibus non est disputandum." I remember like it was yesterday—seeing this phrase scrawled on the yellow–dusted chalkboard in my seventh–grade Latin classroom.
(10/31/18 12:00pm)
Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. And I think it all stems from my much too early obsession with horror movies.
(10/24/18 12:00pm)
Reading for pleasure. Taking classes because of intellectual curiosity. What foreign concepts at Penn.
(10/17/18 12:00pm)
I'm done looking forward to things in life. And no I'm not in a state of existential despair. You don't need to text my mom, I'm doing fine thanks.
(10/10/18 12:00pm)
Happy birthday to Street! Er, in two days, that is. That's right, you heard me correctly. 34th Street Magazine of The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. is turning a half–century old. It has loved, it has lost, but most of all, it has persevered. Nay, it has thrived.
(10/03/18 5:31am)
Well kiddos, I'm back. After back to back special issues that monopolized Sabrina's entire fall semester and almost killed the rest of us, here I am returning to my little text box to share some drivelous buffoonery.
(09/26/18 12:00pm)
I think a lot about food.
(09/19/18 3:28am)
Penn, a warm (though belated) welcome back to campus.
(09/12/18 12:00pm)
On September 8th, 2008, a trifecta of catastrophes struck the United States. The financial crisis hit, Distrito opened its doors, and 34th Street launched Under the Button dot com.
(09/05/18 5:27am)
I love to call my mom. Often. For many reasons. Maybe I'm just a mama's boy. Maybe I rely on parental guidance a little too heavily. I'm a (relatively) long ways away from my home in Texas, and I've gotta keep in touch in the ways I can. FaceTime is all I've got. No train rides home to Long Island for me. Sometimes, it's hard for me to convey my feelings without breaking into Sandy Cheeks' hit song "I Wanna Go Home."
(08/29/18 12:26am)
Good morning University City! I hope that it's morning when you're reading this, but if not that's okay. I don't get around to picking up a copy of Street until I roll out of my post–sending–Street–to–the–publisher slumber at noon on Wednesday and stumble over to the newspaper rack in front of Allegro. But regardless of your sleep schedule, I'm glad you picked up Street!
(04/25/18 4:37am)
Growing up, I was really shy.
(04/18/18 5:21am)
Just recently, I was told how unusual my housing situation is. I was confused. Was it the dead squirrel situation? No, couldn't be. She's long since rotted away and my house now smells of saccharine Bundt cake.
(04/11/18 4:56am)
This letter is supposed to be about Fling, huh? Is that what y'all want?
(04/04/18 1:00pm)
Life comes at you fast. And life hit my formerly sweet–smelling apartment like a truck last week.
(03/28/18 5:14am)
I have a complicated love affair with cooking.
(03/21/18 1:00pm)
I don't cry during movies anymore. I have come a long way since the winter of 2005, when my step–cousin and I had a crying contest in the movie theater bathroom after watching March of the Penguins. We were too embarrassed to cry about the dead penguin chicks in public, so we decided to do it in front of a mirror while others relieved themselves nearby.