Oberlin Blogs

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.

It was by far one of the more entertaining things one could have done on Valentine's Day, and it was for a good cause. There are only so many ways to make free chocolate taste better, and that's having it come out of your nose from laughing too hard.

Remember those "Ernest" movies from the late 80's...

There is, in fact, only one magical way to schedule all the performances (AND hit every single "Welcome back to a new semester! We missed you!" activity AND manage to see all your friends who you missed all of winter term... which can all coincide sometimes).

My colleagues and I looked at each other in astonishment. No, we mumbled almost apologetically, we're sorry, but that is not a problem we tend to have.

I've already got crazy nostalgia for the long, lazy summer days spent lounging in the hammock on our porch, the nights of impromptu jam sessions with my more musically inclined friends, the smell of freshly baked bread rising up from our kitchen.

We were getting bedraggled, after countless handstands, cartwheels, and rope climbs. Yet as the weeks wound down, we got closer and closer as a group.

She told me how excited she was about the reading, and went on with something to the effect of: "I feel like all you creative writing majors have this separate writing world you live in sometimes. It's obviously such a huge part of your lives, and yet most of the rest of us never get to be a part of it."

I've gained a certain amount of respect - if not understanding - for mass spectrometry and I've begun to understand how the microwave in the kitchen works, at least for making Ramen noodles.

We also had an accidental four-hour stay in Bratislava, but hey, spontaneity and learning to roll with it is part of the adventure of traveling.