One time, in half-hearted jest, my dad joked that I decided my academic interests by sorting a list of degrees ranked by earning potential from low to high. He’s not really wrong– I am a generally okay person but also generally impractical. I want to study gender and books and culture and don’t want to get a job or pay bills or be responsible.
I am having a truly unique sophomore year. In the fall, I was a CA in McBride. For the Spring, I’ve moved to be a CA in Mather. I was placed in Lewis freshman year, and I thought I had escaped living in one of the weird brick beasts, the dungeon halls that make you feel like you’re living in a video game and carrying a torch down a secret passageway to slay a lizard. Turns out, I won the lottery! I get to live in BOTH of them! As a SOPHOMORE! In ONE YEAR! Hurrah! Since moving into Mather, I’ve started to pick up on the slight differences between the two buildings and their communities. And that got me thinking– what makes Mather, Mather? What makes McBride, McBride? And thus began my study.
Every year we fall into the same trap: we make unattainable New Year’s resolutions, attempt to keep them, and fail. My suggestion? Cut out the middleman.
The transcript
Okay Kenyon, we dropped the ball. Executive Editor, Nate Winer ’19, Staff Writer, Lillian Fox Peckos ’20 and myself (Daily Editor, Jane Zisman ’20) all committed to write some content for this highly regarded publication last Sunday at an editor’s meeting that I skipped. Now that the day has come for our work of collaborative, literary genius to be published, we of course have nothing more to present than the three of us sitting in Peirce, lamenting our inability to do jack shit.
image credit: SnowBrains.com
Hello, yes, it’s that time of year again. Everybody’s making the trek home, whether that involves putting your trust in an elaborate bureaucratic system hellbent on putting you in a metal tube that slingshots you through the air, or taking matters into our own hands and driving home. I live on Long Island, a fact that for some reason upsets every single person I know. This means, among other things, that it’s a nine-hour drive from here to home, and with City traffic and Long Island traffic, it’s more like a twelve hour drive home. So I usually fly, but I have notoriously horrible luck traveling. If I fly, there’s about a fifty percent chance my flight will get cancelled. I’ve been laid over and stranded in Charlotte, Seattle, LaGuardia, Columbus, and Washington D.C., and one time I booked a flight that didn’t exist.
[Editor’s note: I was on the same flight as Chris for Thanksgiving break and we did have to deplane and wait for a new one because our first plane’s door hatch was broken, causing a 2 hour delay. Bad travel luck confirmed]
So last spring break I thought, why don’t I drive home. I didn’t have a car, but my friend Lily did, and she lived just outside New York City. Eight hour drive home, take the train into the city, and from the city to the island. What could go wrong?
I got stuck in a blizzard for fifteen hours.
Settle down and unwind as Dounia tells you where it’s at this weekend
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via flickr
Okay. So, it’s the end of the semester and I’m pretty sure we’re all going through it. There are so many papers, exams, and projects that sometimes all you want to do is make an unneeded Market run or impulse buy whatever type of alien mask is at the top of your Amazon wishlist. While we at the Thrill aren’t always the biggest fans of capitalism, we can 100% relate to using our meager Kenyon wages to buy things that were 100% unnecessary. Below are some such examples of Thrill editors proving that we are all just dumb babies who should not be trusted with real money.
