It’s Spring semester of my junior year at Duke and I’m wondering where the time went — not because it’s flown by, like everyone said it would, but because I’m just now gaining my footing.
The Mamas & the Papas’ “California Dreamin’” appears for the first time in “Chungking Express” around the 42-minute mark of the film.
As young college students in good health, with ambitions and a bright futures, we rarely think about death — unless we have to.
The common room in which I stood was tightly packed with crowds of wide-eyed freshmen, which made any attempt at mingling without awkwardly elbowing past someone nearly impossible.
It’s 1:45 a.m. and after four months of reading, I’ve just finished “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay.”
The holiday season is here, with bright lights, warm drinks and cold noses.
When I tell someone that I’m graduating a semester early, I know exactly how that person will react to the news.
Watching Duke’s come-from-behind overtime win over Texas in last week’s PK80 Invitational awakened a familiar feeling in me, one I hadn’t felt in some time.
I’m sitting in the middle of my room, my legs tucked underneath me, and all I want to do is cry.
One of the perks of being a writer at Recess is that I reach out to interesting people whom I would not easily be able to talk to if I were not writing articles about them.
Hitched between the birth and swift death of rock and roll on one side and the frenzy of the British Invasion on the other, the era from roughly 1960 to 1964 has been incorrectly painted as a rough period for pop music.
I love all types of music; I always have.
I’m 19 years old, and I’ve never been in a relationship.
Anyone who knows me knows I am not an adventurous eater.
I’m proud to say I was the second-chair saxophone in my middle school band. I like to conveniently overlook the fact that, as it happens, there were only two chairs to be had.
I’m pretty sure this is my final staff note for Recess — not that I’ve written many — and I’m going to use this soapbox to advocate for country music, and, more specifically, Townes Van Zandt.
As a student studying abroad, I'm probably expected to write about what an awesome semester I'm having. A beautiful European city, a plethora of museums to visit, endless events to attend, embarrassing yet endearing mistakes with the language, a great homestay family—all would be more than suitable topics for this staff note.
Making the leap from high school to college brings with it many opportunities: the excuse to pursue unique areas of study, the ability to work with world-renowned faculty and the chance to meet new people from all over the world.
With syllabus week long gone, the real first week of school is now half-way over. The part of me that dreads actually putting effort into classes has taken over and paralyzed my brain—a sensation best described as that spinning, rainbow wheel that shows up when a Mac momentarily freezes, buffering right inside my head.
I don’t remember much from orientation week except that it was devastatingly hot. I was familiar with North Carolina’s stifling humidity—being a Raleigh native, I had to be—but the steamy, uncomfortable climate was a bit too representative of my mood for my liking.
