This one goes out to all of the prospective freshmen out there who are lucky enough to pick up a copy of Student Life on a Monday and read this column. I told this year’s incoming freshmen the same thing, so it’s time you heard it.
I always knew I’d commit myself to many things at college. Committing murder, however, was decidedly not on my list. When I finally decided to go to Washington University, I nervously anticipated my housing information. Would I be placed in one of the (relatively) fabulous new dorms on my tour? Would I be forced into a dungeon-like old dorm and then have to feign some sort of illness that would get me back into said new dorm? And what of my roommate-to-be? What would he be like? Would he be able to handle me? Would I be able to handle him?
There was a time in my existence, a darker time that is, when I once knew the pain that many Washington University students know. The exquisite torture, the existential angst, the residential horror of the housing process at Washington University. Slice it anyway you like-a sophomore dorm (or junior or even senior for the unlucky few who pretend that that’s what they wanted), Village-like housing (ah, how housing concepts have failed), or Millbrook (does anyone really want to live in a dungeon with seven other people, honestly?)-countless students fight bitterly for the chance to live one atop another with the nagging insecurity of a “cleaning person” coming in to swipe their computers and valuables.
What is Washington University in the age of iPods, reality television and Paris Hilton? What was it ever? Well, when I first visited the school during my senior year of high school, I remember remarking to my mother how oddly thin and “normal” all of the students appeared to be.
On Friday, Margaret Bauer was named editor in chief of Student Life for the 2005-2006 school year by the Board of Directors of Washington University Student Media, Inc., the newspaper’s publisher. Bauer is a junior who works as the online editor for Student Life.
I, for one, have always been of the mind that we are invariably, and perhaps even inextricably, influenced by the world of celebrity. This is not simply because I rush to imitate every phase Madonna/Esther goes through-including, but not limited to, her geisha moment, the cyber cowboy chic, the Patty Hearst-like rebel and the BoyToy in lace teddy (oops, have I revealed too much?).
Directions: Circle the letter of the statement that best applies to you. When you’ve finished, use the answer key to find your love destiny. 1. You’re in the Millbrook Garage elevator with the secret crush of your dreams. Suddenly, the elevator gets stuck in between floors and WUPD has its hands full mopping up another sewage leak in Wohl.
According to the Princeton Review, Washington University is not known as a campus on which there are many couples-it actually described it as something akin to a “hook-up culture.” But then, it also is said that the students call their peers “all very smart,” so it just goes to show that you can never trust what you read.
During this past finals week, which is when it usually happens anyway, my computer decided to break. Not in the “breathe and reboot” sense, but in the totally, completely, inexplicably gone retarded way that is only meant for people on Satan’s special list (confirmation, at last!).
With the recent hubbub of the Pitt-Aniston fiasco (damn you Angelina Jolie and baby Maddox with your faux-hawk!), I have barely been able to concentrate on anything, let alone keep my food down (ha!)-so you’re lucky that you’re getting this post-winter break column at all, kiddies.
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