10 o’clock list: Places to “Honeymoon” After Getting Kenyon Married

As a first-year, I am merely an outside observer of the concept of “Kenyon Married”. I am the accidental child brought into an adult-only romantic dinner at the quirkiest all-inclusive resort of all time. Except instead of a resort, I am referring to our fine liberal arts institution.

I got here a little over a month ago, so it is understandable and expected for me to not be “Kenyon Married”, or even “Kenyon Engaged”. I would argue that this perspective puts me in a prime position to make unbiased suggestions about other people’s relationships.

Or maybe I’m just the strangest combination of a Hopeless Romantic and Jaded Writer Who Likes Making Fun of Things on the Internet to ever grace this site. 

Continue reading

In the Studio: Annie Blackman ’20

22788715_1700614086617870_7056125937998773726_n

Photo by Jacqueleen Eng ’19

Welcome to In the Studio, a feature dedicated to exploring the fantastic independent musicians at Kenyon. This week, we showcase Annie Blackman, an English major, Thrill Grandma, and singer-songwriter from Montclair, NJ, who is known for artfully crafting melodies and lyrics that evoke a sense of forlornness.  Continue reading

An Exposé on Love, Mail Crime, and Kenyon’s Finest

 

romantic-silhouette-young-couple-man-approaches-his-girlfriend-embrace-sunset-concept-love-99559864starter_package

Very loosely based on a true story 

It’s a fine fall/summer/swelteringly hot day of 90 degrees at Kenyon. You’re walking down the street and the birds, or should I say the construction sounds, are screeching and you’re headed to the bookstore to pick up your package. It’s your birthday. Mom sent you a box which you can speculate is probably filled with candy, cough drops, cough medicine, allergy medicine, tea, more tea, some more tea, your retainer that you “forgot at home”, and finally your birthday present which is a nice fat check. You stroll into the bookstore, down the stairs, and you wait on line behind all the sweaty students until finally it’s your turn. You say your name casually looking down at your phone, but wait there’s more. As the nice woman begins to inform you that they don’t have your package your heart begins to sink. Not have my package?? It’s my birthday! I got an email! You begin to explain the situation. You show them your email you state your name. With a confused look the nice woman breaks the news: Someone. Stole. Your. Package.

Continue reading

CALL FOR PEIRCE DATES

CALL FOR PEIRCE DATES

Are you sick of walking down Middle Path just to realize that every face you pass is unfamiliar? Do you crave the sensation of gently caressing another person’s hand as you reach for the same Chipotle mayo bottle? Or are you just looking for something beyond the bizarre Kenyon hookup culture for a meaningful conversation on the middle of New Side?

Continue reading