For the past 3.5 years, Street has been my everything. I love this magazine more than I love most of Penn.
Recently I cut my hair extremely short. I went in, "ready for a change," because I'm a cliche.
Rejection is a ritual.
School spirit is hiding somewhere in a third floor Van Pelt carrel.
This is a strange time of the year.
To Penn, we are numbers.
Sending good vibes to you, reader.
Hello beautiful soul,
It’s that time of year.
To the readers and to the trolls: In honor of shoutouts, I am writing my final HBEIC letter of the semester in shoutout form to the people who made this possible.
Contrary to popular belief, this is the most wonderful time of the year. We're taking off our parkas and taking to College Green.
It’s amazing, when feel like you no longer have a home, how a pet can give you a place to belong.
We know Vince Vaughn crashes weddings, dips, ducks and dodges.
Finding out what other people think of you is, weird. Uncomfortable. You want to know until you know.
My phone ran out of storage because of all my dating apps. JSwipe, Tinder, Hinge, Grouper and even Grindr (for journalistic research) framed my phone background (Word on the Street, p.
Looking for friends
Two nights ago I lay on my floor for five minutes in the dark admiring the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.
Self-slut-shaming is the new slut-shaming.
Oo la la, this French brasserie is worth a visit to Fishtown.
Welcome home. A lot has changed since we submitted our last assignments, had our bags checked at Van Pelt and used our final Dining Dollars on overpriced salsa at Gourmet Grocer.