Oberlin Blogs

Our president Marvin Krislov presented Dr. Morrison with several gifts, one of which included a note from her 91-year-old first grade teacher from Lorain, Ohio - a phenomenal moment to consider that this powerful, Nobel-Peace-Prize-winning, larger-than-life inspiration to me was once upon a time, merely a first grader.

Yesterday, I would have laughed heartily and bitterly at the suggestion of updating my poor, neglected blog.

This is my old livejournal entry from when I visited for All Roads as a prospie. Wiggle your fingers: it is 2005, I have really long hair and wear a green military coat.

My team T-Spain feat. Young Portugueezy, formerly Urethra Franklin, formerly Hurricane Kathleena and the Mansoon, really turned up the heat.

New music is alive and well in Oberlin, but so is the old. A look at the concerts I attended or performed in this past week.

Picture three of us lying on our backs with our heads on each other's stomachs, listening to the birds waking up, and talking about life after college.

Incredibly disillusioned by my middle school experience--finishing my season on the second string basketball team with a total of two rebounds and a steal--I was hopeful that college could renew my muddled notions about playing basketball for something bigger than myself.

I can't decide if I'm excited to go back to a traditional academic setting--to actually read novels again and discuss theories in the safe confines of a classroom--or apprehensive that I'll be frustrated not to be learning by doing, not to be out on the frontlines of the issue that moves me the most.

As I am employed as a tour guide, admissions intern, and creative writing intern, "All Roads" is pretty busy for me. Besides tours, info sessions, and panels, I saw Reefer Madness, sunbathed, and contra danced.

Watch some of the movie. Become rather confused because you've missed the first fifteen minutes. Snicker at inappropriate moments.

Why is it a concession stand? What exactly are you conceding? Except common sense in what a slice of damn pizza should cost.

Oberlin professors are super-cool, and sometimes give out their home phone numbers.