I've got vacuum-sealed clothing bags and enough identification to stroll through a Soviet border circa 1959. There's just one problem:
The last time I wrote a column, it got chopped up worse than Steve Buscemi in "Fargo."
When I was in high school I used to volunteer at a day-care center, and one day I asked the little boys and girls the Big Question:
It is always difficult, when a personal frustration leads to the consideration of larger systemic issues, to put one's own selfish interests aside and focus on the bigger picture.
Those of us who arrived on campus prior to Fall 2006 remember the University's purchase of 12 houses and three vacant lots immediately adjacent to East Campus.
I understand that this city is not currently facing its brightest economic conditions. Legitimate jobs are hard to come by, and who wants to toil away for $5.85 an hour anyway? God knows I sure don't.
When I told my friends I would be MIA for a week, they responded with disbelief. No fair. You can't skip school to gamble.
If you're anything like me, you love sports and you love movies. And the best part is that they aren't even that different.
I am a second-semester senior. At times, I've both loved and hated Duke (and mostly tolerated Durham). I've been through three and a half years at Duke.
I refuse to vote for Hillary Clinton. If she is my party's nominee in November, I will follow my red, white and blue heart, and-like my apathetic fellow Americans-I simply won't vote.
In South Africa, where I live and work a part of each year, there is a concept of community called ubuntu.
College wouldn't be the same without the inevitable weekend bacchanalia. But when your innocent, excitable dog is hung over the day after a big party along with you, has your debauchery gone too far?
At halftime of Duke's dominant victory over Clemson Saturday, I saw something that's been rare in my four years here. No, not those awesome jump-rope kids.
Duke's Dec. 8 commitment to dramatically increase financial aid to middle- and low-income students has not gotten nearly as much attention as it deserves, probably because Harvard became the first...
I never expected to spend my senior year of college fearing for my life. But at the beginning of my final semester at Duke, that is exactly what has happened.
For some reason, the number eight has always seemed a whole lot bigger than the number seven to me.
This week's procrastination tool/very important and life-enhancing goal: complete study abroad applications.
A little girl, dressed in a pink Duke T-shirt, scurries with her friends through the student section, attempting to reach the holy sustenance of pizza and candy.
If I haven't made it clear in earlier columns, my parents do not necessarily "approve" of certain lifestyle choices I make.
I want to support the Writer's Guild of America, but this has been a tough, television-free two months.
