I have absolutely no fucking clue what I am going to do without Street, but I guess I have no choice but to find out.
On Wednesday morning I felt like my voice had been ripped out of me.
On Tuesday, I woke up excited.
What if all our actions had no consequences?
So the Cubs are in the World Series.
The last time the Cubs won the World Series was 1908.
I’m going to tell you a story.
I don’t know about you, but I have never appreciated Fall Break more than I do right now.
Perhaps it was because I went on vacation instead of just going home for the first time in four years.
Three weeks ago, Oz sent an email to a select group of freshmen girls. Two weeks ago, a group of girls put up flyers all over campus that condemned the email as perpetuating rape culture.
Returning to the things that once made you happy never quite seems to work the way that it should.
I have a confession: I’ve never taken a creative writing class at Penn.
So, guess what? This is the last issue of Street for the semester. And, while that may good news for some (looking at you, victims of the RoundUp and presidents of Greek organizations), it’s a little more complicated for me.
On the one hand, I have made it through an entire semester doing a job that is incredibly challenging, time consuming and draining.
I was going to write my letter about Fling. I was going to write about how every event is off campus, about how much money everyone is spending on the Pool Party.
So I have a question: where the fuck did my junior year go?
I have theme songs for everything.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I make post–Spring Break resolutions.
Are you happy?
I suck at singing.
This is the Love Issue and Valentine’s Day is this weekend so I’m probably supposed to write to you about love.
Spread the love, kids.
I don’t remember what I did last weekend.