Oberlin Blogs

This year, I didn't get into a co-op. Where was I going to get my weekly serving of granola? How could I say goodbye to the cinder block-sized bricks of cheese that arrived every Wednesday? Was I going to waste away trying to cook all my meals for myself?

One needs laser sights attached to their clown wigs. Am I trying to do too much?

Remember when I said I "will often go to mildly extravagant lengths to craft a present"? That might have been an understatement.

Explanation: I showed up at a bloggers' meeting without my computer, but with my camera. I was going to chat for a bit and then go, but Ma'ayan pointed out that there was a chalkboard in the room and challenged me to tell a story in nothing but photos. This is the result.

Why do I feel like a crazy person? I am a senior now. Oberlin, even with the all-nighters, the snowy Aprils, the death icicles looming on my roof, mouthfuls of saltless co-op lentils, has been nurturing me this whole time with arms wide open. Oberlin and I have been spooning for three and a half years, and I'm about to be kicked out of bed into a pair of knobbly hobbit-shoes.

My schedule in summary - which is more or less tacit apology for not blogging sooner, or more often.

Scheduling everything was like playing a game of Tetris: staring at the little colored blocks on Google Calendar and wondering where I could make another one fit.

Zombies, Nerf guns, and many pictures. What else could you want?

We may not wear our Oberlin pride as sleeve tattoos, but we will drape them on our torsos in a wide array of colors and designs.

A batch of chai cinnamon rolls, a pan of brownies, a Cat cookie, a night of playing with glow poi, a contra dance, three textbook sales, many books, many friends.

In which I very belatedly introduce myself so that we can be friends.

And then, all of a sudden, I was a fifth-year. Here we go again!