It Happened to Me: I Got Stuck in a Blizzard for 15 Hours

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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.

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Obituary for Olin-Chalmers

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Even in this brochure ready picture of our dear Mother, someone hasn’t put a Peirce cup away.

 

Olin-Chalmers Memorial Library, 32, First Bae and Queen Mother, was destroyed this year in October 2018. Olin was erected in 1986, where it remained a weird “it’s two libraries in one building” hybrid for over three decades.

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Notes From Abroad: Poundtown

PoundlandIt 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.

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Where’s It At? (9/7/18)

Where’s It At? (9/7/18)

 

Hello hello, welcome back monsters! It is I, the Where’s It At Goblin, and as you have hopefully already realized, this is not a video. On the contrary, it is a text post!

We are doing some reorganization at the Thrill, and the fact of the matter is the previous work schedule of weekly Where’s It At? content is untenable, and its demands broke all of our video editor Michael Lahanas‘ bones. (He’s the reason for every Where’s It At? you’ve ever enjoyed.) Because of this, he is now just a shuffling mass of jagged skin, flopping around wherever his skeletal fragments allow him to go.

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10 o’clock list: Jokes I Will Never Stop Telling

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Hello everyone it is I, the Repeats Their Jokes Goblin! And boy oh boy, what a nightmare of a semester this has been. Winter lasted until late April, the campus is being torn up all around us, NightWorld chaos has erupted within our very library, the things we anticipated the most have been disastrous looks into our dark selves, and of course we are on the precipice of Sendoff. That’s right, we are staring headlong into the biggest party weekend of the semester, featuring three refugees from an alien dystopia in identical white turtlenecks playing computer noise at us before a hard cut into Kenyon’s premiere sadboi indie pop group, and of course, a party literally named for containing wild animals. Continue reading