Kenyon Zodiac: All Campus Parties

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co-authored by Editor-in-Chief and Aries sun Shayne Wagner! 

Sup, Nachos! Feeling like you’re lost? Descending into an abyss of school work and seasonal affective disorder? Well, we’re here to give you some direction. Here’s a new Kenyon Zodiac for you to sink your teeth into. This time, the signs as all-campus parties! You know them, you love them, you’ve probably cried at at least one of them!

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I Ate With Only Knives for Three Days and Learned Nothing About Myself

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Hello, eggs. I have some news. I’m on thrill assignment to eat exclusively with knives from for the next three days. Why? Because I have a supportive network of friends and coworkers on this blog who like to ensure I suffer. Also I love a good challenge. Will this experience give me the tools to achieve self-actualization? I sure hope so! Here’s what happened:

Sunday, October 5th (edit: I’ve been informed that it is November. Oh god!)

11:45am–grabbed coffee and had to run to 10000 things around campus because I’m a lady and an influencer! No knives yet.

1:30pm–I ate an apple (don’t judge the fact that this is the first piece of food I’ve eaten today) (this is also probably the first piece of fruit I’ve eaten in weeks). I used a knife. At the moment, feeling incredibly capable and ready to take on this challenge. 

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6:30pm–Dinner//First full meal of the day (yikes!). Here we go. I went with my usual “where do I turn to now” Peirce meal, a scoop of chicken salad (oh god do I wish it was tuna) over some spinach. I’m determined to commit to eating what I regularly eat…but with knives. First bite: a breeze. I’ve decided to go with the One Knife technique: using a single knife to wrangle food onto the blade, as though a fork. The consistency of the chicken salad//spinach is sticky enough to adhere to my knife long enough for me to ungracefully shovel it into my mouth. Excellent news.

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the perfect bite

This meal occurred over a dinner meeting with some good pals. They were supportive of my new eating challenge, documenting the event like so:

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So far this looks process A) normal enough to not cause a scene in the middle of a meal, but B) strange and C) inconvenient enough to make people question if I’m okay. The answer is no, I’m not, and I’m still not sure why I’m doing this.

That’s all for today. We’ll see how tomorrow goes.

Monday, November 6

Good morning.

7:45am–Breakfast. Praise up, it’s hashbrown triangle day. Knife technique: one knife, stab stab. My new knife reality is very similar to my new daylight savings reality: a minor inconvenience, but nothing truly catastrophic.

12:15pm–Lunch. DEAR GOD THEY HAD TUNA!!!! Lunch was my dream version of last nights dinner, a hearty scoop of tuna over some spinach. Once again, this is a breeze. Why am I so good at this? Should I be concerned?

6:30pm–Dinner. Okay. Fine, I had the tuna and spinach bowl again. And I ate with a knife again. And honestly? Didn’t even bat an eye. I don’t know what this experience was supposed to teach me about myself, but if anything I have learned that it takes a lot to derail me from my relationship with Peirce tuna.

Tuesday November 7

Good morning. 

9:30am–Breakfast. Apple and french vanilla coffee (the only Peirce coffee in my heart, fight me!). Knives need not apply to this meal.

12:30pm–Lunch. Deadass, I forgot what I ate or if I ate. I’ve asked my usual food pals if we shared a meal, and the general gist to their replies was:  “No, Erica. I haven’t seen you today.” Should I be concerned? How did I black out in the middle of the day? What did I eat? Am I a ghost?

5:00pm–Dinner. Gyro! Night! At! Peirce! Here’s where things started to get tricky. On a normal day I am already unsure of whether gyros are hand or fork food. Well, surprise bitch, today it’s knife food. This is the first meal when eating only with knives escalated from merely a thorn in my side to an actual problem. A boy at the round table across from mine wouldn’t stop staring at me, meat chunk were flying left and right and none landing in my mouth…it was chaos. 

Pictured above: a text sent to my handsome editor Chris Raffa 

Wednesday November 8th  


7:45am–Breakfast. A Haiku:

Today I overslept

Knives? The least of my worries

Forks?  no thank you, dad!

12:00pm–Lunch (THE FINAL MEAL!). Probably tuna and it was probably fine.

A haiku to summarize this experience:

Tuna has my back

I only cut my hand once

Surprise–knives ain’t shit!!!

10 o’clock list: I Was Asked to Write About My Rashes?

10 o’clock list: I Was Asked to Write About My Rashes?

Pictured above: the evil work of Editor Chris

So here’s the deal. We have undoubtably reached the point in the semester wherein everything feels like it is rapidly spiraling downhill. I haven’t seen the sun in at least 17 days, I’ve been told on multiple occasions that my Mather single smells like a barbershop (???), and one of my professors confessed she thought I was a completely different student on the roster 6 weeks into the school year. Yikes. No matter how many curveballs my semesters at Kenyon have thrown my way, there is always one thing I can count on. I will probably get a rash.

So…yeah. Here’s a list of things of the things on this campus that have given me a rash.

  1. The Health Center. Picture this: first year Erica. Finals week. Body wrecked with pneumonia. Has pulled at least 3 all-nighters. Time has literally lost all meaning (Note: to this day I still do not have the time displayed on my laptop sidebar because of this period). After being dragged to the health center by a concerned friend who stopped me on Middle Path, (“Erica…are you…alive?”) I received the iconic Health Center combination of a bag filled with cough drops and individually wrapped tylenols plus a Z-pack. While that Z-pack did not manage to give me the strength necessary to carry through the rest of the semester (I wound up at the Knox County Hospital), it did give me a rash across my entire body. So dope!
  2. The Weather. I don’t know what this is about, but any slight change in weather at Kenyon College results in my armpit skin deciding it no longer wanting to be a part of my body. It rains, my armpit peels. It’s hot? My armpits flake off. The wind blows? My armpit is molting.
  3. Every Deodorant I Have Ever Tried. I’ve gone through 4 deodorants this semester alone. This is less of a joke and much more a cry for help. Please. Oh god. Please.
  4. The Kokosing. Last year, I found myself skinny-dipping in the Kokosing with relative frequency, as most difficult workweeks ended with me sitting in Peirce declaring to no one in particular “I swear to God, if I’m not buttass naked baptizing myself in the Kokosing by the end of the night, I’m transferring.” Most nights, I stayed true to my word. Most mornings, I woke up itchy.
  5. We Live in a Cartoon College and I Am a Cartoon Human. Last semester, I threw up on middle path after simply eating a chocolate bar too quickly. The next morning, I woke up with a rash on my neck. So yeah, there’s that.

10 o’clock list: Things I Would Sign in the Thank You Card to the Anonymous Donor if I Had Nothing to Lose

10 o’clock list: Things I Would Sign in the Thank You Card to the Anonymous Donor if I Had Nothing to Lose

I’m sure by now you’ve heard the good news: we’re rich! After receiving a historic 75 million dollar donation, it’s time we pay a little thanks to the mysterious man (or Hamburger Helper puppet hand–who am I to presume?) responsible for inciting the transformation of Kenyon that will ultimately make this hill feel foreign and cold to us when we inevitably return as bedraggled alumni searching for meaning in our past lives. I love the warm, soft womb of academia.

Oh, oh god.

Whomstever the fuck our donor is, I have some choice words for him. Hear me now, anonymous donor, whoever you may be.

 1. Dear Anonymous Donor,

Thank you so much for your generous donation! I’m not going to have a library for my senior year at Kenyon. Thank god I can’t read. How much would it cost to replace all my professors with clones of Hugh Dancy?



2. D, 

913-9*7-9480. Mather 216. Yes, I have a passport. No, I don’t have anything to lose.


3. Dear Donor, 

What internship opportunities do you offer at Monsanto? I have attached my resume.



4. Dear Graham Gund, 

We get it!

5. Dear $$$$$$$$$$, 

I’m on the market for a daddy. Will send pics of my feet ;)


Whoever You Want Me To Be

P.S. That perfume you smell is Fantasy by Britney Spears.

6. Dear Hamburger Helper Puppet Hand,

You kept your promise! You are always watching over me! I love you, Dad!

Your little hamburgette,






Decatur Special Announcement: Our Predictions

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Gather ’round sheeple, have you heard the news? President Decatur has a special announcement for the Kenyon community tomorrow at 12 o’clock noon. An ominous event page has been already been set up, there’s nothing we can do but sit and marinate in the possibilities. Who knows what this will be! We sure don’t! But that certainly doesn’t stop us from predicting exactly what is going to go down. Here’s a handy list of The Thrill’s predictions of Decatur’s announcement:

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