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(11/07/12 7:56am)
It’s your freshman year, and you’re at the activities fair. After scarfing down free candy and stealing as many fanny packs and T-shirts as is humanly possible to carry, you realize something: This event is actually aimed at getting you involved on campus, not for indulging your kleptomania. After stuffing your new possessions in your bookbag (or, if you’re like me, down your pants), you start perusing the options, mentally crafting each possible life that you could have. Should I do service or student government? Am I a lax bro or an underwater basket weaver? Will I hate myself later for signing up for this many listservs?
(10/24/12 7:24am)
A few days ago I went to UNC. Cue the booing, hissing and newfound passion for football. I’ve never actually had anything against Chapel Hill. I think baby blue is a perfectly palatable color, I don’t really understand the point of college rivalries, and I have a strange love for all things sheep-related. So, perhaps because I am disloyal and un-American, I went to an info session for UNC’s public health graduate school. A panic attack and a change of pants later, I came to a gut-wrenching realization: I am having a quarter-life crisis.
(10/10/12 6:56am)
My first crush on a boy was in the first grade. The playa that I am, I’d obviously had boyfriends before, but there was never an emotional connection—a trend I would carry into college, but that’s another story. Then, at age 6, I met Zach (I haven’t changed Zach’s name, so if he happens to read this … hi, Zach, I had a crush on you in first grade). Zach was the hottest boy out of pre-K. He was tall and blonde, and he ate considerably less crayons than the other boys. One day in class, I was contemplating Zach’s round, child-size jaw and sculpted baby fat when I realized that I was a little chilly. So I did what anyone would do: I put all of my limbs inside my shirt. I’d never attempted arms AND legs at the same time before, but it was really cold and so I went ahead and shoved all my appendages in. Two seconds later, the shirt popped off my head, exposing my baby boobies to the entire first grade. And that is the story of how I first got to second base.
(09/26/12 8:19am)
Dear students:
(09/12/12 5:57am)
Imagine, if you will, stepping onto Duke’s campus. It’s been a long summer, and you’re happy to see this beautiful place once again—or if you live on Central, you’re at least happy to see that your car didn’t get broken into last night and that your building hasn’t been swallowed by a giant sea monster yet today. But more so, you’re excited to see your friends. Now imagine that wherever you search, you can’t find them. They’ve disappeared off the face of campus. It’s almost like they’re in another country or something.
(08/29/12 5:56am)
Dear Class of 2016,
(04/11/12 4:00am)
It’s exam time at Duke, and I guarantee you, half of your conversations are about to start sounding like this:
(03/28/12 4:00am)
I thought at first that it would go away. Once the novelty wore off, people would stop. But I was wrong, just like I was wrong about “Call Me Maybe” (seriously, WHAT is appealing about that song? Nothing. Sorry I hate fun). I thought that the fad would die out. But no. It is here to stay. I am talking, of course, about how everyone here thinks they’re Southern.
(03/14/12 4:00am)
I have a really, really good idea.
(02/29/12 5:00am)
I think I’m having a mental breakdown.
(02/15/12 5:00am)
I don’t really partake in hookups. As a sophomore, I know most of the kids I see out regularly, and I am not trying to make out with “that creepy guy from stats” or “the boy who has a cat fetish” (freshmen, this WILL happen to you). Additionally, I’m taken. See, my preschool boyfriend Michael and I never technically broke up, and so I obviously remain faithful. In 1996, we went as Aladdin and Jasmine for Halloween. It was special.
(02/01/12 5:05am)
Life is full of lessons. You reap what you sow. Don’t cry over spilt milk. Never purchase a Furby because they are Satan’s reincarnation on this earth (Seriously. I took the batteries out of mine and it still kept purring and blinking like it wanted to seduce me and eat me at the same time. They are evil creatures). As I was in the library last night, Facebook-stalking freshmen—Duke seems to have defied the norms of logic yet again and created well more than one “best damn pledge class”—I had an epiphany: My time at Duke has been full of life lessons as well. Being a social science major (which, as is well publicized, is not a real academic pursuit at Duke), most of my lessons have come from outside of the classroom. But I wouldn’t want to waste my time learning if I’m not getting anything tangible out of it like class credit or candy, so I’ve proposed a few new courses that I think Duke should put on ACES. So here goes.
(01/18/12 11:00am)
You! Yes, you, with the face. You’re a psychopath. You have no conscience, lack control of your behavior and feel nothing for other people. Your suave demeanor might pull the wool over others’ eyes, but not me. I am wool-free over here. I think I might even be allergic. That stuff’s itchy.
