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2012 was an odd year for me. There were ups, and there were downs, and there were many moments in between.
1-Across: Reggae relative
1-Across: EMT skill
1-Across: “Hello” in Honduras
60-Across: Festivity marking an important milestone this year or what each of the starred clues is
Halloween may still be a week away, but Baltimore is already getting into the spirit. From lanterns lighting up Patterson Park to ghostly trails at Cylburn Arboretum, this weekend blends art, architecture and autumn festivities across the city. Whether you want to explore historic buildings, see new exhibits or settle in for a symphonic nod to Poe, plenty is happening to fill your fall weekend.
When I was younger, my parents both worked late. Some nights their meetings stretched past dinner, and I would fall asleep to the clack of keyboards and muffled voices on speakerphone. But one night, I stayed awake. Maybe I had napped earlier or maybe I just did not want the night to end. Either way, I was wide-eyed and hungry, and for once, so were they.
I ask myself this question nearly every day. Ironically, back in December, I had nearly convinced myself that I would get in. My favorite procrastination strategy was to pull up the graph for Hopkins on Scoir, see my star land in the green-ish area, and think, “Maybe I have some hope.” Then I would mull over my essays and Common App activities in my head (I was too scared to actually read them), and perhaps gain a bit of hope.
On most nights, I’ll probably be returning from yet another 1 a.m. Brody study session, my headphones in, listening to whatever fits the vibe. Recently, I’ve been listening to Daniel Caesar, because he released a new album, Son of Spergy, on Oct. 24. Caesar’s been quiet for so long that just seeing his name on a new album feels unreal.
I want to spend my New Year’s in Boise, Idaho, watching a giant potato drop. At the start of every year, a 17-foot-long spud made of foam and fiberglass — over 17,000 pounds of Idaho pride — makes its way down from the sky in our city’s quirky twist on the Times Square Ball Drop. As the countdown begins, my friends and I press closer to the crowd and brave the cold together while the potato starts its descent. After spending my first semester of college more than 2,000 miles from home, I’m looking forward to this New Year’s potato drop not for the spectacle itself, but for what it represents: a return to where I grew up, to hometown friends and to the familiar feeling of sipping on a pineapple Jarritos from the taco truck down the street.
Over the summer of 2025, I decided to brave the hundred-degree heat of my hometown near Las Vegas (and its surrounding desert) to return to a hobby that, although dormant for years, has been vastly important over the course of my life: hiking. Among the highlights are the twin Teutonia and Kessler Peaks, situated in the middle of the Mojave National Preserve roughly 70 miles from my home. Although I managed to summit both peaks with a fair share of scrambling, slipping and sightings of the occasional mule deer, I forgot to search for the survey marker — a metal installation in the summit marking government survey records — at the top of Teutonia Peak. These survey markers are a capstone of sorts for hikers and mountain climbers, and it’s customary for mountaineers to take a picture with the marker to show that they came, they saw, and they conquered the peak. In 2026, I’m excited to make the long drive out from Henderson to the Mojave NP and surmount Teutonia yet again; this time, however, I’ll make sure to capture its survey marker in my camera roll.
After a year of regional competitive play, the 15th annual League of Legends (LoL) World Championship began in Beijing on Oct. 14, 2025. South Korea’s T1, the defending world champions, faced off against China’s Invictus Gaming in a best-of-five series. The Play-In match resulted in a 3-1 victory for T1 and drew more than 2.5 million peak viewers (excluding Chinese viewership), a metric that is comparable to the average viewership of regular season MLB games on Fox and ESPN, regular season NBA games on TNT and ESPN and recent NHL Stanley Cup Finals games.
A few years ago, I figured that if I never wanted to feel anxious again, I could simply force myself to do things that make me nervous over and over again — until my hands no longer shook, my voice no longer trembled and my heart no longer sank.
The first time I feel the freshman blues, it’s 7 p.m. in Baltimore, but 5 a.m. back home. My phone lights up with a text from my mom. It’s nothing fancy, just a photo of her standard morning cup of chai (tea). She has always been an early riser. I know she doesn’t expect a reply. She just wants me to see something familiar, to be reminded of what home feels like.
On Thursday, Oct. 9 the Opioid Industry Documents Archive (OIDA) hosted a Q&A with Christopher K. Haddock and Andrew Kolodny about their team’s recent publication: “Imagine the Possibilities Pain Coalition and Opioid Marketing to Veterans: Lessons for Military and Veterans Healthcare.” OIDA, which is co-created by Hopkins and University of California, San Francisco, won the Society of American Archivists Archival Innovation Award.
IKEA. Meatballs. ABBA. That is usually what you think of when Sweden is mentioned. Honestly, I did too at first, with the bright yellow and blue signs, tiny pencils to write record aisle numbers and a food court of Swedish meatballs as a reward after getting lost in endless showrooms. But beyond the furniture stores and dancing queens, Sweden holds a different kind of charm for me. It is a country that has seemed to figure out happiness, balance and living life at a slower and more intentional pace.
I want to theorize that no one actually likes flowers. People swoon over the lovable stage: a beautiful bouquet bloom — a proud, delicate beauty perched in front of them, pleasing their senses. To them, a bursting bouquet represents specialty, as if to say, yes, you deserve the beauty that surrounds you now. I am one of millions of girls who swoon over any pink rose bunch delivered to my door, carefully wrapped in a brown paper casing and a matching pink tinted ribbon. But truth be told, flowers require consistent attention to remain in their embellished state. Whether they’re on their bush or already cut, they are temporary by nature. Their beauty exists in an intermediate stage, suspended briefly between life and death. People love flowers when they’re blooming; few love them when they start to fade.
We have reached that point in the semester yet again.
Letters Without Limits, founded by students at Johns Hopkins and Brown University, connects volunteers with palliative care and hospice patients to co-create “Legacy Letters.” These letters capture memories, values and lessons that patients wish to share, preserving stories that might otherwise be lost. By honoring these voices and preserving legacies, Letters Without Limits hopes to affirm the central role of humanism in medicine, reminding us that every patient is more than their illness and that their voices deserve to be heard. As you read these powerful Legacy Letters, we invite you to pause, reflect and recognize the beauty in every life.
The pinnacle of motorsports took on an American classic this weekend. Before Miami, before Las Vegas, before the barrage of influencers and brand trips, there was the United States Grand Prix (USGP). Every year since 2012, when the sport switched from Indianapolis to Austin, the Formula series cars have raced around the Circuit of the Americas (COTA). COTA is thought of by some as the main American race, the one that represents our culture and truly embraces the spirit of the country.