We’ve all told our friends, bosses and parents one specific little white lies: That we’ll “be there in a minute,” when in reality we are a good five to ten minutes away. It’s understandable.We hate to disappoint our employers and loved ones. But, as I found out recently, whether or not you tell the truth can be the difference between a good or bad night for your friendly neighborhood Cove delivery guy.
LOOK. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m preeettty pathetic, and I am at Wiggle Ground preeettty much always. As I write this, I’m on the couches inhaling one half of a sun dried tomato bagel with herb cream cheese, and as you read this, I’m probably eating the other. As far as Wiggle Ground culture goes, I’ve seen it all. And I think it’s time we lay down some ground rules.
You don’t have to believe the hippies and tree-huggers about global warming (what a joke, right?), but recycling just makes sense. Why make something from scratch if you can reuse what you’ve already made? But even on a campus where most of us are at least occasionally guilty about our carbon footprint, we miss all kinds of easy opportunities to help keep this place green. Continue reading
This post was co-authored by Editor-in-Chief Emma Specter ’15 and Editor Emeritus Spencer Kaye ’14.
…I talk loudly in the periodicals on third-floor Olin?
Emma’s Take — I am not one to dispense wisdom about the importance of keeping quiet in the library, since, on occasion, I have been known to, well, not do that. But, speaking as a mean angry junior, supple young underclasspeople should kindly refrain from being loud here because now I am, as I mentioned earlier, old and mean, and I hate it.
Spencer’s Take — I feel like magazines are meant to be talked about. You know what I mean? But also, do as I do, not as I say, because I hate when people are talking on the third floor of Olin. That is a quiet space. Continue reading
Well here we are, we’ve made it, the promised land of intellectual superiority: college in the 21st century. Out go card catalogues, slide rules, and typewriters; this is the age of the computer, spell check, the age of instant gratification! The once mighty pen falls ignominiously to the fingers at the typewriter; we truly live in a marvelous age. But there is trouble in paradise, and it comes in the form of Google Docs. This infernal feature — so touted by groups of intrepid students — can quickly turn on its creators and unleash its fury upon them. So how to skirt around its gnarliest issues? Luckily, dear reader, you have us.
It’s Sunday morning brunch, and you’re sitting at your table on New Side, nursing a hangover with a plate full of hash brown triangles. In between complaints about all the work you have to do this afternoon, you look over at the other table to see Jane Doe wearing your bracelet, a family heirloom that has been passed down for generations that you sort of accidentally misplaced last night whilst stumbling around your friend’s NCA in a drunken stupor. What do you do? Continue reading