Fall, 2015. The air is crisp, but still warm. You’ve only been back at school for three weeks and it feels like it’s been a lifetime. You’re being your best self, getting along just fine, when all of the sudden some motherfucker named Life decided to make things more difficult than they need to be. You know how you’re supposed to be healthy, with an immune system that knows how to do its job? Too bad. It’s time for illness. Continue reading
Oh greetings. It’s late, so you thought I wasn’t going to be here. That’s funny. I’m always here. Every Monday. Every week. Every month. Every semester. Every year. I’m always here…giving you the deets and such about happenings and such. My knowledge of this weeks events is your communion. Blessed are you my children. Please eat from me. Drink from my cup. DRINK!!! Which reminds me of something someone said this weekend. Here are some other musings from you, my children.
This weekend? We drank sangria out of a trash can.
I stole six menus from Peirce Pub.
Deb Ball (in addition to Shock Your Mom) is the party you brag about to friends from other schools. Everyone remembers their first Deb Ball at Kenyon (or distinctly don’t remember it). We asked our First-Year writers about their expectations for the weekend and then about the reality they experienced at the party. Check out some of their thoughts on Kenyon’s treasured ball:
Expectations: Continue reading
This post was authored by John Foley ’15.
For my first Deb Ball, I shaved my armpits and my chest (but not my legs). I put on extra deodorant and two spritzes of “Glow,” a fragrance by Jennifer Lopez. I walked over to Lewis, where my new friend Emily lent me a black, one shouldered dress from American Apparel to wear. Another girl I had just met, Cat, did my makeup. I mostly remember that there was lots of eye shadow, and that I kept smudging my lipstick. Continue reading
As I walked past the Old Kenyon steps this morning I thought, “…Is that vomit? Isn’t it Monday?” And then I realized to my quiet horror that there was, in fact, an unassuming vomit puddle sitting outside Old Kenyon that had been there since Saturday night. It would seem that while some people may have lost their black Northfaces on Saturday, others lost a dinner made up entirely of corn. Continue reading