Oberlin Blogs

I'm pretty sure I can directly trace my penchant for list-making to the beginning of college. Something about Oberlin has not only forced me to develop stellar time management skills (which, okay, has gone hand in hand with fine-tuning my procrastination abilities) but has also inspired me to think, dream, and plan big.

In this post: doom, gloom, our inevitable demise, American Ragnarök, Funky Winkerbean, armed revolution, barbarians at the gates, political Pentecostalism.

I got into Harkness co-op the summer before my freshman year and have stayed loyal to the Harkness flag ever since. This year, I think I am the oldest and most experienced veteran Harkness resident. Just call me Auntie Harkness.

You know that one, the one where you're scrambling to get things done and say goodbye to everyone, and y'know, pack? I like that day, but I don't.

Spring break in Mammoth Cave! Featuring: flutes, food, camping, kodama, hiking and super-cool people.

When it comes to breaks, I use them as time to relax and recharge, which means I tend to ignore any classwork I've brought along in my suitcase.

As fun as the leprechaun cookies and green jello shots were, the best aspect of the day, for me, was the mass of adorable little kids running around. Little kids - much like pets, parents, and well-stocked refrigerators - are something you miss out on when you're away at college...

Oberlin is a mecca for all things music, and not just because of the Conservatory. Cool awesome bands and musicians are here all the time, at a fraction of the cost of most performances in the real world.

Inside, podcasts of A Prairie Home Companion ushered Keepers and visitors into the dining room where we filled our plates and other eating receptacles with hamburger noodle hotdish, green bean casserole, wild rice, powdermilk biscuits, and jello with Swedish fish before heading outside to the sunshine.

I'm not even a huge history buff, but there's something stirring to the soul about stumbling across an old, crumbling stone and barely being able to make out the engraved letters: Born a slave, died free.

It must have looked pretty odd--all those mini lanterns hanging from tree limbs and about five of us with cans of spray paint looking like members of a graffiti ExCo, but you get my point.

Working for a paper is exciting at times. Going without sleep comes with the territory.