Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a woman with shockingly few marketable skills. I went to the career fair, but I didn’t get any jobs. Instead, I got an absurd array of freebies from various tech companies. I would tell you about it, but I’d rather show you . . .
A solid representation of cotton and tri-blend, the tees this year did not disappoint. Asana wins for softest material, while Andreessen Horowitz gets a nod for originality with their Henley. At this point, I am fully convinced that tech start-ups are the only reason that American Apparel is still in business.
It’s worth noting that Microsoft packaged their T-shirts like one of those expanding Disney-themed washcloths from our youth. Maybe this fabric was a Lion King hand towel in a past life?
Faux wooden glasses decimated the competition this year (the competition being a bunch of crummy, colorful, plastic sunglasses). The sock game was also strong, with rubber tracked hospital/SkyZone slippers, athletically minded socks from Trip Advisor, and FitBit bringing the fashion element. The meaning of business socks has just transcended its original derivation.
We’re in full swing now, folks. Welcome to October (rabbit rabbit): the month of midterms, sweaters, Halloweek, and pumpkin ingredients in each and every BDS dessert. Long gone are the days when you can ask people what they did this summer (seriously, stop), where they are living, or what classes they’re shopping. That’s just plain irrelevant. The best that even “Plastic” Cady Heron can do is give the apple of her eye (pun intended) Aaron Samuels today’s date. Happy October 3rd to all, and to all a beautiful summer-like October day/night.
A previous version of this post was published by BlogDailyHerald in October 2011.
Going into The Seagull last night, I was full of trepidation. I am no scholar of Anton Chekhov; before seeing the show, I couldn’t tell you much about this playwright. Upon reading the Wikipedia synopsis, that fear grew. The names were all complicated, in Russian, and difficult to pronounce. The story itself is immensely complex, full of love triangles that intersect and meld with one another, forming new shapes entirely. A rhombus perhaps?
I soon discovered that the beauty of The Seagull lies in its subtle irony. Each character wants what another has. While one is seeking fame, another is running from his talent and recognition. Another wants to be rich and provide for his family. His counterpart disregards wealth as an afterthought. One seeks approval from his mother, another from an audience, another from an unrequited love. The dizzying webs these characters construct should be overwhelming, but they aren’t. Director Laura Rikard makes sense of it all.
Upon walking into the theater, I was immediately struck by the intimate atmosphere. The audience was so close to the stage, and the actors cajoled us, laughed in our faces, and made us uncomfortable in the best kind of way.
Ok, so you were abroad last semester, and you’re a little confused. It’s not that you weren’t excited to come back — in fact, you couldn’t wait to eat your first spicy with in over half a year and hug it out with friends who understand lingo like “You do you” and “OMAC.” It’s just that things seem different. When you had your first “spicy with” of the semester, your stomach was NOT happy afterwards — devastatingly, you’d lost your immunity to Jo’s food. Worse, you feel disconnected from some of your friends, and hardly anyone says “You do you” anymore. You can’t help but feel like Charlie Brown moping around and asking questions about everything that feels different, weird, and new.
But the worst thing of all, the biggest challenge you’ve faced, came at you when you braved the deep dark depths of the Ratty. You were at a little joint called the Ivy Room for a late-night smoothie, and what happened when you went to put the straw in the cup? It bounced right back at you. The caps don’t have holes. What kind of sick person planned that?
Wait a minute. This Ivy Room debacle has nothing to do with your time abroad. Your friend is also horrified by it, and she was here last semester. Maybe you’re not so alone after all. Let’s face it: this concern with belonging to a community is pretty much universal, and it’s something you’ve been dealing with since middle school, when Lucinda wouldn’t let you sit at her lunch table. It’s something pretty much all of us have dealt with at some point. And a big part of belonging, of the Brown identity, seems to be related to contentedness in being here. If you’re at Brown but you don’t feel as content as everyone else in beingat Brown, you might feel alienated. Then you get to those questions bigger than “Why don’t the caps have holes?” You ask, “Why isn’t everything fitting just right? Why don’t I fit just right? Why can’t I achieve the ultimate mellow of those people playing Frisbee on the quad?”
Choosing a study spot is something of an art form. It requires serious consideration of the task at hand. There are days when not getting your work done is simply not an option. And then there are the (glorious) days when you have some reading you probably should do but you’re more than ready to leave it behind the moment something mildly exciting comes your way. So, for people on all parts of the study spectrum, here’s a ranking from “if you talk to me I’ll probably kill you” to “I will literally use any excuse to stop doing my work.”
John Hay Library
The Hay is the place to go when you simply need to zero in, get in the zone, and just get down to business. You pretty much have no other option than to be alone with your thoughts. The sheer weight of the silence will physically force your fingers to type that paper you’ve been dreading. You will feel shame for scrolling through your Facebook feed for the fifteenth time, and although everyone else is deep inside their studious worlds, they will know that you are procrastinating, and they might judge you.
This is where you go when you need to burn the midnight oil, since the Hay closes at 10 p.m. and, let’s be real, you’re lucky if your book is open by 10. On the SciLi’s quiet floor, there is actually nothing to distract you. In fact, you will probably want to do your work in order to get out of that concrete dungeon as fast as possible. If that’s not enough, the tangible stress floating through the air should do the trick.
You might not be an animal person, but there comes a point in the semester when the work actually gets hard and the novelty is gone and you just need unconditional love. Since Heavy Petting can only happen so often, and you have to divide the puppy love among hundreds of students, it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Instead of FaceTime-ing your cat (which is apparently a thing?), take a look around campus–there are a number of places right outside your dorm where you can get some prime animal action.
This could be you!!
Main Green. For reasons I will never understand due to the high probability of being flocked by students, a number of people walk their dogs across the Main Green daily. This can happen at any time of day, but the chunk of time between 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. typically sees the highest concentration of dogs.
Pro: It’s the easiest place on campus to set up shop and even the laziest of students are bound to see a dog at some point.
Con: You’ll probably have to share your dog time with the hoards of other students dying for affection as well. Continue Reading
The latest and greatest news, commentary, culture, entertainment, sports and miscellany from College Hill and beyond, brought to you by The Brown Daily Herald. If you have questions, comments, tips, ideas or want to write for us, shoot us an e-mail at email@example.com.