'I feel like death:' Your hangover is generic
Urggghhh. Your alarm goes off. Or maybe your alarm doesn't go off, because you never made it back to your room.
Urggghhh. Your alarm goes off. Or maybe your alarm doesn't go off, because you never made it back to your room.
'Twas the night before deadline, and inside Maggie's head, No Mirror column was stirring as she lay in bed. The Blue Zoo was still, not a sound left to hear, (For her housemates were out drinking box wine and beer). And I thought, "By next week, they will all be a-hating! Their good times replaced by the stress and berating!" The deadlines and essays will drive us each mad, Not a soul will remember the ventures we've had. I sat up with a start, for my mission was clear: To create a verse that will rival King Lear. So take a quick minute from work (or from brew), And please let me present you: THE TERM IN REVIEW. In SEPTEMBER trustees had some scandal in store, Full-page ads in the Times led alums into war. The Board doubled its size without coming to blows, Though the temperature amongst our trustees surely rose. On campus, new freshmen joined us here in frat heaven; Like Spinal Tap, Dartmouth now "goes up to '11." The first day of class brought the Dem candidates, Though few of us won tickets to see the big debates. Some spent days and long nights helping out on campaigns, (Others stood on Main Street gawking at Robert Haines). In the end, the debate rendered no clear first places, And fast as they came, they went back to the races. And some happenings happened in the press, of course: French President Sarkozy and his wife got divorced. Al Gore won himself half of a Nobel Peace Prize For he tried to save us from the climate's demise. OCTOBER made many a-sophomore girl blush When they schmoozed for a week with the big kids at rush. Until late in the night, we delibed and we sorted, 'Cross campus, faint echoes of "DING" were reported. Yet, all's well that ends well, and after the strife A new class was ushered into the Greek life. Come the end of the month, Halloween came and went, In costume choice, "less is more" was ever evident. October was host to a Dartmouth homecoming, Alums all returned for some skeeving and slumming. Legalized field-rush made that old custom lame, No brave soul touched the fire, 'twas really a shame. All were shocked (bit unnerved?) when the football team won, And too soon, the big weekend was over and done. In Calif., heat and drought led to massive wildfire, They raged on for three weeks, the whole country perspired. More unrest was afoot, this time far to the East -- In Burma, monk's protests were forcedly peace-d. What began as a modest call for retribution Grew to what has been dubbed the "Saffron Revolution." All of Burma was blocked out from using e-mail, And some guess that 6,000 still linger in jail. Lastly, one obit (promise, there won't be too many), We said "farewell" to James Bond's Miss Moneypenney. NOVEMBER was over as fast as it came, The month rumors of roofies were launched into fame. Philanthropists flocked to a talk from Paul Farmer, (He's everyone's favorite disease-fighting charmer). This week witnessed a nightmare of a PR bomb -- Ole' Trustee Zywicki was called out on YouTube.com. He coined late President Freedman a "truly evil man"? This cannot be the most graceful alumni game plan. Their injunction was moot, so they filed a case, These alumni are serious about the trustee race. On Robinson!
No one saw it coming. The fall of 2007 was routine: certain alumni got their ("this-College-was-once-free-of-") panties in a bunch, prompting certain other alumni to leap instantly down to their level and slap right back, only a little harder.
Book: "Twilight" by Stephanie Meyer Romance will never look the same after you've devoured Twilight, Stephenie Meyer's deliciously sappy young adult novel about a human girl who falls in love with a vampire.
'09 girl: I told my trippees they'd get gonorrhea if they didn't filter their water. Croo Member: Yeah!
Jean Luo / The Dartmouth Staff Clark Warthen '10 Clark recruits potential Dartmouth students in his shirt-and-khakis tour guide outfit punched up with french cuffs, boots, bowtie and a belt embroidered with Confederate flags. How would you describe your personal style?
Jean Luo / The Dartmouth Staff Maryanna Brown '08 Maryanna wears aqua tights and flashy shoes to transition into winter in her self-described "bright, bordering on silly, obscenely short" style. Facetime location of choice?
Sometimes when you listen to music, you've just got to laugh. Like when Britney Spears declares, "It's Britney, bitch" in the opening line of her latest hit "Gimme More," it's impossible not to crack a smile.
Thump, thump, thump. No one plans to wake up with a pounding head, but we all know that it happens.
Tilman C.
Phi Delt '09: So you're a Kappa? Kappa '10: Yeah. Phi Delt '09: Seeeeeeeeeelf call! Girl 1, watching an animation on black holes: Whoa, how did they film that? Girl 2: I don't know, a spaceship? '08 sorority girl to formal date and whole bus: "This is NOT a platonic dress.
"Wait, who is the chef again?" one of our companions teased. "Chef Giovanni Leopardi," our waitress cooed helpfully as she sailed past.
Tilman C.
Last week, I discussed the College's varied failures and successes in coping with one of the greatest challenges it has faced in the past 35 years: how to coeducate a college that, traditionally, prizes hypermasculinity. Now, on to Dartmouth today.
For Leon Chang '08, the big moment came sophomore winter in a Toulouse internet cafe. He'd been playing poker since freshman fall, when he first played for money in one of the Choates common rooms.
Apple has just announced a new operating system, and it comes with both new attractions and new headaches.
What ever happened to the good old days of skipping tipsily into Novack to check Blitz on your way to Frat Row, or of sneaking upstairs in a frat to blitz your crush on some brother's computer?
After my high school graduation, my uncle gave me a card with a black-and-white photo of a grizzly man drinking Budweiser and ice fishing on the cover.
In the weeks leading to the beginning of my sentence, I contemplated the romantic write-a-novel-while-in-jail idea.
Moving out is hard to do. I'm not talking about the emotional difficulty of letting go of a meaningful space.