Okay kids, I’m starting to worry that I’m being a little bit too honest with you humans, putting all of my dirty laundry out for you all to daintily sniff and consequently become repulsed. By me, by my life, by my dreadful choices. I’m sick of writing columns about me making an a$$ (cha-ching) of myself at a party, so for this week I’m going to skip the part where I lose my phone, make...

Last Thursday night was my last Sigma Up Against the Wall, which I can’t say is a huge letdown, as I’m not so great with the country dancing. But I will say that it invited certain feelings of nostalgia, and by the end of the night, blaring Toto’s “Africa” (thanks, William) in the car with some rushees, I was ready to be young. To be wild. And, of course, to be free. The night progressed...

We all like to think of ourselves as well-adjusted, mature, and well-controlled people. We think we know our limits. We think we know who we are, what we are, how we are. But until you know yourself with five shots of peach vodka coursing riotously through your system, you don’t know the monstrous acts that you are capable of. Last Friday, I learned what I am capable of. I was at a party, at my...

After two separate moody, youthful, exploratory, collegiate, we’re-up-on-a-roof-we’re-lying-in-your-bed type conversations this past weekend, I was told that my responses and ideas were pessimistic, “the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard” and incredibly bleak. Surprise! Apparently I’ve been a cynic masquerading as a realist for some time now. (Please tell me you didn’t know that). It’s like looking in the mirror and instead of seeing your own face, you find yourself eye to eye with Gilbert...

Oh man, how about them awkward moments when your roommate comes in and starts having sex in the room while you’re in there? Aren’t those fun? I know what you’re thinking: “they’re oodles of fun, Margaret!” I wouldn’t know because, thankfully, my beloved roommate of three years never put me in that situation. And as I am now my own roommate, I have never put myself in that situation. That would entail me splicing myself...

Rejection. If we’re to look at the etymology of the word (trust me, I’m an English major), it’s a lot like ejection””being thrust out and pushed away, but then re- , meaning over and over and over again (Okay, so I’m an English major not an etymologist”¦sue me”¦just kidding, please don’t sue me). We’ve all experienced rejection, she said tritely. And if you haven’t, please come and see me right away””I would be more than...

“¦While you’re busy making other plans.””“John Lennon It’s the second week of school and we’re starting to feel like we’ve figured it out. We’ve settled into a fixed and accepted routine. Additionally or alternatively, we’ve decided what our year, or at least our semester, will look like and we have goals and expectations to see our plans come to fruition. First years, many of you are now settling into your ideas about the people you’ll...

Well, well, little freshmen, welcome to Trinity University. Sarcastic oops! Did I say freshmen? I meant first years. That’s your first tip from Professor Marge. You are never freshmen, you are always first years, and as far as we’re concerned, this is Hogwarts and Jurgens is a sorting hat. Did I say Jurgens? Sarcastic oops again! I forgot that you know NOTHING. “Who’s that?” you ask with your wheedling first-year voices. Trinity Lingo Tip #2:...