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Let’s admit it: We’re all overachievers here. We worked hard to get here, and we work hard now that we are here. I would even say that we work too hard. Rather than treat college like they do in classic movies like “Animal House” or “Van Wilder,” we schedule lunches like we’re already in the real world.
Let’s admit it: We’re all overachievers here. We worked hard to get here, and we work hard now that we are here. I would even say that we work too hard. Rather than treat college like they do in classic movies like “Animal House” or “Van Wilder,” we schedule lunches like we’re already in the real world.
Drew was the light of our lives and made our hearts beat with joy and pride. He had a zest for life that was unquenchable and his passionate interests in so many diverse areas were contagious to everyone around him.
Drew Everson was a Chronicle columnist from Fall 2008 to Spring 2009. This column originally ran April 9, 2009 and was his final column for The Chronicle. Weekly columnist Metty Fisseha will return to the opinion pages next week. She donates this space in loving memory of Drew’s contributions to The Chronicle.
Let's admit it: We're all overachievers here. We worked hard to get here, and we work hard now that we are here. I would even say that we work too hard. Rather than treat college like they do in classic movies like "Animal House" or "Van Wilder," we schedule lunches like we're already in the real world.
As I observed my roommate fail miserably at making Jell-O Monday night, I realized there are lifestyle difficulties to living in a dorm room. My roommate likes to cook, but unfortunately there is no oven or stove in the room. Rather than doing the intelligent thing, walking downstairs to the quite conveniently located kitchen, he boils water in the microwave and cooks whatever he can. Pasta and oatmeal turn out pretty well. Jell-O does not.
Oh how we all love pop music. Whether driving our grindage at Shooter's (properly pronounced Shoot-uh's! The exclamation point is a must), bumpin in our car or listening to it on our iPod (I try not to tell other people, but I love listening to Katy Perry on my iPod), pop music can offer something different at any time of the day. In the confusing times that we live in, the lyrics to popular music can be useful to help us reflect on our own feelings. So I am going to try to decipher some here.
He is a 14-time gold medalist, a fixture of every girl's sex fantasies and a face of international swimming. But is Michael Phelps also a marijuana user? Yeah, Phelps was caught smoking pot at the University of South Carolina (a University with really interesting media coverage. First, the racist dudes in Borat, now this? They look really good right now). Some people I know, who are friends of hashish, set their Facebook statuses to: "Support Phelps, win one for marijuana." I stopped and thought: Win one for marijuana? What does that even mean?
With all the hoopla of the inauguration over, the hope in our country has reached an all-time high. Soon enough, the government will screw something else up (as it was created to do) and that hope will come crashing down. President Barack Obama has chosen his sidekicks to help him destroy the evils left by the previous administration: the war in Iraq, economic crisis, a stumbling health care system and, of course, Republicans against hope. It would take quite a team to solve the complex problems his administration faces, and I think he could have chosen better. These are my picks for a Cabinet to truly change America:
In the spirit of an annual ritual, in progress this week, involving the thorough evaluation of about 40 percent of our female friends-aka sorority rush-I feel like someone should talk about our society's self-image problem. It makes people sad. Or something.
Ever since the lacrosse case, the administration has been seeking the perfect balance to attain an ideal "campus culture," a term almost as empty as "utility" or "sexually active." Hell, I don't want our campus to simply have one culture. Most independents would fear the cultural imperialism of the Greeks: Everyone would wear Polos and shotgun beers daily.
Seeing as this is my last opportunity to write an election-related column, I see it fitting to make fun of the campaign. But not necessarily the candidates themselves (McCain is old! Palin can see Russia from her house! Obama is changeful! Biden has really white teeth and hair plugs! Sorry I had to get it out of my system). It's time that we recollect the utter ridiculosity of this campaign right before its culmination on Tuesday.
I love finding reasons to celebrate anything. When anything remotely good happens, I use it as an excuse to celebrate. Back from Fall Break? Time to celebrate. My roommate finally cleans up the sticky orange juice that spilled in front of my fridge? Celebrate with screwdrivers. I didn't fail my [insert subject] midterm? Time to celebrate, despite the fact I have another midterm tomorrow.
As we all know, Al Gore invented the Internet. Barack Obama invented change. Now we know John McCain invented the BlackBerry. Joe Biden is foreign policy. Sarah Palin is the original VPILF. Reaching back to the primaries now, DukeMed alum Ron Paul is just awesome. Hillary Clinton put 18 million cracks in the glass ceiling. Mike Gravel is a potted plant. Dennis Kucinich saw a UFO! Bill Richardson is funny. We can always associate something with major party candidates.
As I sat in the Carpenter Reading Room overlooking the Chapel, the rain began to pour down and "Explosions in the Sky" played on my iPod, forcing me to have a cliched, movie-like reflective moment about my summer.
