Transfer kids are everywhere. You know, those kids that join us from other institutions sophomore or junior year and complain every time you make too many references to the quad or freshman year NSO?
This is just a weird week. Jews went home for a while, and now aren’t eating yeasty things. KFP is an acronym recently incorporated into my vocabulary.
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.
It’s not so much that we never leave the house; it’s that we never leave our respective corners of the Penn community.
Most of my friends don’t know where the Charles Addams Fine Arts Hall is.
“It’s the glass and brick building on 36th and Walnut,” I attempt to explain.
“Annenberg?”
“No.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.