You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October, 2008.
On Tuesday The Christian Science Monitor announced that, starting April 1, it would become an online-only newspaper, with only a weekly magazine printed for subscribers. This is not a surprising move (as I discussed in my first post), but it is a potentially daunting one as The Monitor is the first major newspaper to take this route. The editor of The Monitor, John Yemma, told The New York Times that the change is one that other newspapers will have to make within the next five years. And as such, The Monitor will be watched closely.
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Eerg! Eerg! Eerg! Eerg! — I wake up in a haze. All I can see is the blurred red “8:30″ blinking in my face. I close my eyes tight, and open them to see the blinking red spots burned on the ceiling. Sunday morning, 8:30, – why in god’s name is there an alarm going off within 50 feet of me, nevertheless on my nightstand? How is it when I need an alarm for a 9 a.m. class, it never goes off. However, on this particular Sunday morning (after only getting home hours before) my alarm decides to work. Proof that God does have a chosen people, and despite my being Jewish, I am not in that select group. Thinking this early morning mishap must be a mistake, I pull the plug on the alarm and go back to sleep.
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Halloween is one of the least socially important nights in college life. To clarify, while the 31st of October is a night of massive parties and many opportunities to meet new friends, potential mates and the inside of toilet bowls, everyone inevitably dresses like a tool and makes a complete fool of him or herself. Any faux-pas will be forgiven.
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As a photojournalism major, I have to shoot a story every week. It’s not easy to come up with fresh (and practical!) ideas on a regular basis, especially considering that I spend most of my time either on campus or at home. Last weekend I shot a story about the reunion of Sargent College of Heath and Rehabilitation Science. What fun! There were alumni who graduated during the 1940s and 1950s, and the youngest graduated earlier this year. All of them were dressed up and in a high spirit, which provided a warm and joyful atmosphere.
Christina Sartori takes one last bite of her burrito and kills the last shot of her RedBull before unfolding the blue wrestling mats from the corner of the room. A group of women surround her, stretching as they drink bottled beer and review finishing moves from a Luchador wrestling magazine. “Ooh, look at this one,” one says as she points to a photo of a man piling driving another headfirst into the ground. “I can’t read it,” another says, “it’s in Spanish.” “It doesn’t matter,” the other responds. “Pain is universal.”
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Last February, I decided I wanted to graduate a semester early. By March, all the essential plans had been made to do so and by April my application for graduation was signed, sealed and delivered. It was official. If this is something you decide to pursue, my one piece of advice is that you plan very carefully, and once everything is planned out, plan it all out again.
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In the midst of the third period on Saturday night, a night in which the Terriers destroyed the fifth-best college hockey team in the United States, a primal scream resounded from the top of the student section.
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With Terrier Tip-Off commencing the BU basketball season tonight, now’s a good chance to provide some insight into the BU sports scene.
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Looking back, I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know why I was so desperate for money, and I don’ t know why I thought tests and trials were the way to get it. But, whatever the reason, freshman year there was not a psychiatric test, MRI screening, or reaction diagnostic in this city that I didn’t take. And it was awesome.
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Mid-semester is upon us in full force (mid-term exams, shorter days and colder weather), and it’s is causing depression and lethargy within the halls of COM – which accounts for this blog post. The worst part of these mid-semester blues is the fact that we must register for spring semester classes very soon, a cruel joke BU plays on us – pick new classes while we’re floundering in our current ones.
However, there are a few easy ways to beat registration depression.
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