I have a confession to make: in my head, I use the word “pop” instead of “soda” when I see someone grab a Mountain Dew or when I pass the Coca Cola bottles in the campus store.
In almost any conversation about future plans with my fellow students at Duke, I catch myself wondering how anyone is so sure about what they want to do with their lives.
I walked into the kitchen in my dorm, and I smelled the glorious aroma of noodles being cooked on the stove.
For me, that craziest part of rushing SLGs my first year wasn’t going to the events. I didn’t black out at any parties or dance on any tables but I did have a crazy bid day.
Duke is full of people who have an exaggerated sense of self-importance. Sometimes it seems like they have bought into the belief that they are the greatest thing since the sliced bread, or maybe even the quesadilla from Sazón.
I remember the first time that a class ever kicked my ass. It was high school Honors Chemistry (Pre-AP, as we called it) in my junior year.
I am deliriously happy to be turning 21 at Duke University. Here, I am blessed with incredible friends, a community that accepts me for who I am and more resources than I know what to do with.
The last time I went to Shooters was mid-March. Until then, I felt relatively safe when I “rolled Shoots.”
