Letter

From The Editor: 3.25.10

All of us have a means of escape. A way to leave this crazy Penn world, all the drama drama, drama and the work and the pressure.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 3.18.10

You can tell a storm is coming when cows huddle up together. The faster a cricket chirps, the hotter the day will be.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 2.25.10

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.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 2.18.10

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.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 2.12.10

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.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 2.04.10

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.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 1.28.10

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.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

From The Editor: 1.21.10

A lot of people have really great stories about Y2K. And with the new decade and everything, these stories tend to come up.

by SARAH BETH MCKAY

Letter From The Editor: 12.10.09

To the Punchbowl: Whatever! As IF! Double loser with a twist! x 2 = YOU. XOXO Tiger Street

by SARAH AND ELIZABETH OLSEN

From the Editor: 12.3.09

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.

by JULIA RUBIN

From the Editor: 11.19.09

Oh, Shoutouts, you are a fickle mistress. Some people think you are too mean. Some people think you are too tame.

by JULIA RUBIN

From the Editor: 11.12.09

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.

by JULIA RUBIN

From the Editor: 11.5.09

However paradoxical it may seem, college has made me and my friends much less crazy, at least as far as school is concerned.

by JULIA RUBIN

From the Editor: 10.29.09

Tomorrow is my 22nd birthday. This is officially a non-exciting birthday. Who cares about 22? Nobody.

by JULIA RUBIN

From the Editor: 10.22.09

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.

by JULIA RUBIN

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