Welcome to Wash. U. Now get ready to leave. Come here, get comfortable, but don’t get complacent. Don’t get me wrong, Wash. U. is great. Savor your first couple of years here. Go to Bears Den at 2 a.m., read out on the hammocks, pull all-nighters, make good friends, figure out what you want, expand your mind.
Dear Editor:
Regarding the opinion piece, published December 3, 2007, “Why Support the Troops?,” I have a simple answer to the titled question: Because they have put their lives in our hands.
Our troops have chosen a profession where they risk their lives in warfare in exchange for whatever compensation the government is offering at the time.
I’ve never wanted to skydive. I have no fantasies involving bungee cords or Mt. Everest or shark cages. I hate roller coasters and refuse to sit in on scary movies. Adventure is not my middle name. But next semester I’m taking a chance: sacrificing the routine and comfort I adore for the unsettling unfamiliarity of the unknown.
Dear Editor:
On Friday, November 16 Student Life published an article titled “Each One Teach One adds tutoring program for needy students” on the top centerfold of the front page. This article did a good job to highlight the new Each One Teach One: College Bound program, one of the many opportunities that Washington University students have to volunteer in the St. Louis community.
I want to be a billionaire. Not a millionaire (millions are pretty measly these days). A billionaire. My resume will soon reflect this new life goal. In my fantasy future, money will have no special day-to-day meaning. I’ll simply be rolling in it, wearing it, sautéing it and eating it for breakfast.
I don’t need to tell any of you that being a student at Wash. U. is a pretty demanding job. But have you noticed that it’s flat out impossible here to be just one thing? You can’t do it. Nobody here is just a student. Everybody has more than one ball in the air.
OK, so it’s Friday: Halloween is over, your costume is in storage-or if you’re like me, it’s in a wad on the floor. The freaks, monsters and sluts have retreated back into the closet (at least for the most part). The party’s over. I get it. But since I’m sitting here on Wednesday (Halloween) writing this very column, I think a Halloween-inspired article is completely appropriate, nay, obligatory.
Junior year in college, I’m glad to report, is nothing like junior year in high school. Back then I was barely a student. I was more like a death row inmate feverishly preparing for her final appeal. Getting out and getting far away from the monotony that was high school was my mission, and it was do or die.
I now declare myself a stalwart supporter of instant gratification. All this waiting and worrying and wondering has got to go. If something good is coming to me, I’d like to know when, where and how I should dress for the occasion. I’m done believing that good things come to those who wait; they come, I’ve now decided, to the people who pester and whine and demand until others appease them.
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