It was my first day at the University of Exeter. I had spent two days traveling, and the amount of dry body sweat layered on new sweat on another layer of dry sweat was approaching a dangerous level. As we left the bus in a Kenyon cluster like a strange Midwestern cult, we watched as Sarah Heidt and Sergei waved enthusiastically from the sidewalk with their matching windbreakers and brown sensible shoes.
This is the story of how my life came the closest it’s ever been to Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, complete with a spunky but naive American, a suffering artist-stereotype of a human, and how a textbook romance turned into emotional manipulation.
My friends have heard this story once already. My good friends have heard it at least three times. My friends from abroad witnessed it. But I probably haven’t told you yet. It’s a good one.
Let me tell you about this guy. You won’t believe he exists. Hell, I was certain he was a figment of my imagination for the entirety of our fling. But this is 100% true.
***This article discusses emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, and toxic relationships.***
Now that sophomores have turned in their OCS applications and made preliminary decisions about going abroad, our sophomore writers sound off about why they did or didn’t want to go abroad next year.
I cry easily. In fact, I have crying in public down to a science. On this map, I have more instances of public weeping than anyone else on the Thrill’s staff. This is not something I take lightly. I have anxiety. Consistently nervous about absolutely everything, I have difficulties talking to people, speaking up in classes, and a whole lot of other stuff that I won’t bother you with. Some days even walking across campus is hell for me because of my constant negative thoughts. When it comes to People Who Probably Shouldn’t Leave Campus For A Semester, I thought I’d be on the top of the list. But when I was presented with an opportunity that I was too excited to say no to, I left.
The Associated Colleges of the Midwest’s Newberry Seminar is a semester-long program in Chicago where participants have the opportunity to do primary source research in the coolest library in the world. While there, I worked closely with dedicated professors and students and was intensely engaged in my academic work. It was academically rigorous, but I don’t think I’ve had more fun in my life. My program is not for everybody, but it was perfect for me. Continue reading
Right now there are tons of Kenyon students who have departed our little hill for a time to go off exploring and learning, enriching their education in almost every corner of the world. Whether you’re abroad as well or still here in the ‘Bier, you might be curious as to what your junior class peers are up to. If you’re feeling a some pangs of loss and separation deep in your heart for your comrades-gone-global, check out some of the awesome things they’re sharing online.
According to a student info that just went round, you’re all seriously fucked. I’m the only writer that was capable of making it to a computer without vomiting down my own shirt (I assume), and that’s just because I’m thousands of miles away enjoying a shit-free night. Something that, you, unfortunately, probably won’t be experiencing for the next 24 hours. The e-mail warns students of a short lived but significant virus that leads to puking, cramping, and pooping, and it does this, I quote, “quickly.”
So scrap whatever plans you had for tonight, tie yourself down to your bathroom, and please don’t touch me.
Welcome back, fellow First-Years! We had refreshing winter breaks, and are ready to take on our second semester at Kenyon by storm. As cocky First-years, we think we own the school. We know where everything is located, know which places will always have the best party, and pretty much know how to get the perfect grilled cheese from the Panini press. However, this all changed Sunday night. We went to Peirce to have that celebratory welcome-back dinner with friends, and as we approached our usual tables we noticed something different. New people were sitting at our tables. Shocked and a little disoriented, we looked around Peirce and had the scary realization that these new people were everywhere. Continue reading