BBM (BlackBerry messenger) just might be the most frequently used word that doesn’t show up in a classic dictionary. BBM is used as a verb (as in “I just BBMed her”), a noun (“Did you get my BBM?”) and even an adjective (“I’m her BBM friend”)–because simply being her friend is clearly not enough.
February fills our calendars with the start of exams and heavier work loads; we remember influential African-Americans during Black History Month; and Valentine’s Day serves as a reminder to the couples about how very lucky they are while pushing the rest of us into a depression. In addition, there is one more element to this month that many Wash. U. students find particularly daunting.
The best kind of political activist isn’t a politician at all. For anyone looking to make a difference or to sway the country with your ideals, take this advice: stay out of politics. We constantly see examples in the media of politicians engaged in never-ending battles to assert their party’s inherent superiority over the ideals of the opposition.
Before coming to college I never considered myself a picky eater. I consumed each helping of vegetables and chicken my mom placed on our kitchen table without protest.
It’s about that time again. We’ve filled up on mashed potatoes and family. The two-week stretch before winter break is upon us. A typical Wash. U. student might approach finals in one of three ways. The first is to throw herself into studying—cramming after class, working before class, making note cards in bed, dreaming of chemistry equations, rehearsing vocab in the shower.
Why didn’t he call me last night? Maybe my phone’s broken—should I check my Facebook inbox again? Maybe his phone’s broken? Should I call him? I could send him a friendly text. Did he call you? What do you think, should I call him? I’m over him! He doesn’t deserve me! But I thought we had such a great time!”
Fat Talk Free Week is almost over. My question: What happens next week? Will the students who pledged to abandon “fat talk” for seven days return to their old ways, criticizing their inevitably imperfect bodies and finding flaws in every pound and tight fit? I can’t help but think that the pressures of our college lifestyles will force “fat talk” back into daily dialogue. The student group Reflections, which introduced Fat Talk Free Week to Washington University, is a positive force on campus. However, as a visible resource at Wash. U. working to raise eating disorder awareness, the group is alone.
My alarm clock is on hiatus. At 8:15 every morning, I am woken by the sporadic crack and bang of loud hammering outside my window. Upon moving back to school, I was unprepared for the abrupt nature of these early mornings. One at a time, my suitemates and I emerged from our rooms in search of the cause of the knocking.
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