Sometimes, it’s hard to imagine. It’s hard to imagine waking up in the morning with a pounding head, sitting up and wondering where the hell you are. It’s hard to imagine being naked and that the person next to you is too-your friend, an acquaintance, a practically total stranger or a significant other.
While we learned in last year’s official Student Life Sex Survey that about 43 percent of 332 students who responded were still “virgins,” we realize that not everyone who is a virgin is less sexual and that not all those who have lost their virginity are subsequently very sexual.
Around 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, the Bon Appâ€štit workers are not the only people hanging out in the backrooms of Center Court and Bear’s Den. Students from Feed St. Louis drop in and pick up all the leftover, unserved food in covered fish pans from Center Court and leftover cereals and dry goods from Bears Den, pile it in a car and bring it to a homeless shelter, where it is stored and served in their kitchens.
You see your friend across the sidewalk. You wave “Hi!” and shout her name, but she doesn’t answer. Your friend keeps on walking; the usual sensitivity to one’s name doesn’t seem to register.
It looms behind the Danforth campus, on the sleepy street of Throop Drive. A tower, reaching for the clouds.
For those who don’t think St. Louis is a real city, read on, you skeptics. There is so much to do over the summer here, your eyes will pop, and then, of course, you’ll look vaguely like a surprised cartoon character.
No longer is the business world purely for adults. Some Wash. U. students have taken the plunge into the world of entrepreneurship before they are even allowed to sip alcohol legally.
Even on Facebook, that bastion of sociability, where friends are collectibles and new social groups are a few clicks away, the nasty concept of severe dislike has followed us.
The creators of AOL Instant Messenger (AIM) unleashed an intriguing beast when they developed away messages. They may have originally been a signal to others that the user was not there, but they have since developed into so much more.
There are people who come out here at Wash. U., and discover what it is that they desire and subsequently tell those close to them. But what is it like to have lived 17 to 21 years, only to have to tell people something about yourself that you have either just realized or have known forever but kept to yourself all your life?