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(03/14/18 2:40am)
As I type this, I'm shedding dead skin flakes all over the keyboard. But actually, I'm molting all over this keyboard that wasn't built for my giant hands. My peeling inner elbows are a yummy reminder of spring break and all the fun memories it brought. Over break, I was diligent enough applying Mexican sunscreen to my arms, but I forgot to hit the crook of my elbow with some sweet SPF. Alas, I fell asleep with arms outstretched. I cooked my metaphorical goose.
(02/28/18 8:32am)
Yesterday, I glimpsed the cracks in it all. The summer has a strange way of making me introspective. Or thinking of the summer, that is. Spring break is a cheap summer stand–in but it still gets me thinking all the same. It's got me down with a case of the Collegiate Dread. This is what I get for rereading The Harvard Crimson's "Why I Left the Spee" article in my last class.
(02/22/18 8:47pm)
My favorite game to play during lecture is "What are my classmates shopping for today?" Need Supply, Uniqlo, Zara, ASOS, Adidas, and more. I've seen people get on Airbnb to look for a summer closet for rent in San Fran. And of course, there are your requisite lazy upperclassmen ordering toiletries and paper towels from Amazon. Who can blame them? Modern society has taught them to build self–esteem by buying things. And me too, honestly.
(02/14/18 4:07am)
I don't think I've ever been this excited for an issue. 34th Street Magazine's Love Issue is everything that we're about as a publication. Raw, funny, weird. At times intense. Just like the undergraduate years and our society's obsession with Valentine's Day.
(02/01/18 1:17am)
I have a tense relationship with the snow. Just last week, it did me dirty. I was walking home from the DP office late at night, and I slipped on ice and fell. I sat in the middle of Delancey Street, nursing my cut hand and brushing the slush off my jeans. An opossum hobbled along the other side of Delancey, seeming to taunt me. Precipitation had gotten the best of me once again.
(01/24/18 7:57am)
I’m addicted to sticky notes. In other words, I’m scared of forgetting.
(01/22/18 6:27am)
Love is in the air. Or maybe it's not. And we want you to tell us why.
(01/17/18 3:07am)
This is not how I envisioned my first Letter from the Editor unfolding, but my original vision for this tiny block of print space could not be more inconsequential. I cannot justify penning some letter laying out my goals for Street this semester or explaining why I’ve made certain changes to the magazine. It does not matter.
(01/11/18 12:52am)
Hello!
(12/04/17 3:50am)
On Wednesday, Dec. 6, 34th Street Magazine will publish our last issue of the semester: “End the Silence: Assault Survivors at Penn Share Their Stories.” Our print issue will be entirely comprised of assault survivors at Penn and their testimonies. Some are narratives, some are poems, and all are written by survivors.
(11/29/17 5:33am)
I did it guys. I did the one, singular thing you're not supposed to do during the fall/winter season. I got the flu.
(11/15/17 3:12am)
And here we are. This is my last letter as 34th Street Magazine's Editor–in–Chief. Well, okay, not exactly. I'll still technically have my fancy title until the end of December. But this time next week, there will be a new Editor–in–Chief, announced and set and ready to go, chomping at the bit to continue (or undo) what I've done.
(11/08/17 3:32am)
There are two pretty big events coming up this week, events that I hope you all try to attend. The first is BMOC (Big Man on Campus). The second is Street's very own Battle of the Bands.
(11/01/17 3:36am)
Guess what guys? I can now do push ups. Seriously. Me and my weird, creepily–long arms can now do push ups.
(10/30/17 4:47am)
Many, many letters ago (maybe even in my first one), I wrote about my high school paper column, "Oh Really?" For one of those installations, I wrote a long satire piece about depression and anxiety. And while using satire to talk about mental health sounds a little counterintuitive, it was the only way I could verbalize the complicated feelings that I'd long struggled with. After sending it to my best friend, the only person I really ever talked to about mental health in high school, I quietly tucked it away. The column never saw the light of day because I eventually chose not to publish it. I never looked at it again until about roughly twenty minutes before writing this letter, almost exactly four years later.
(10/11/17 3:07am)
I honestly and truly can't think of a better time for Street's list of Most Eligible Bachelorettes to come out. Seriously, think about it. I feel like I haven't gotten good news in weeks. This semester has been shitty. People are low energy and stressed out and just wholly not happy to be at Penn.
(10/04/17 1:40am)
I don't want to exaggerate or anything, but everyone I know is getting married. No, seriously. Bear with me. I have scrolled through maybe ten or 15 engagement announcements on Facebook. People I went to elementary school with, high school, college. They've all somehow found themselves in a position where they (and their significant partners, which they have at this age, which is totally cool), are ready and able to commit themselves for life. They all have engagement photos up, they're all adorable, and they all fill me with existential fear. Oh, and sometimes they also have babies.
(09/27/17 4:29am)
It’s been a particularly interesting week to be a student journalist. Not for a lack of news, of course. Anyone even vaguely paying attention to what’s happening on campus knows the students and administration have engaged in a tense, completely fascinating battle over autonomy, student protection, and social boundaries.
(09/13/17 3:02am)
There's a running joke at Street about our website. Well, it's not really a joke. It's more of a universal truth: our website sucks. It makes no sense. It is buggy and visually offensive. It is a bizarre medley of the newest articles pushed to the bottom of the site, and old, outdated features somehow making their way to the front page. It is terrible.
(09/20/17 2:26am)
Fun fact: I got a mouth guard last year because I constantly clenched my teeth in my sleep. Because of stress.