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Spring break is usually the time where you see only bikinis and burns for miles. For me, however, I’m always in Ireland during break, getting paler and staying indoors. The one benefit to my overcast country is getting to see the trends across the pond and how radically different they are than the ones here. The outfits are tighter, the hair is voluminous and jeans are rarely on the horizon.
The author of the poem “Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker” got it all wrong: any self-respecting dandy would agree that liquor trumps candy when it comes to dandiness — so does sartorial elegance, quick-witted banter and quoting “The Flowers of Evil,” probably.
There’s an odd, pervasive murmur that seems to follow myself and many of the seniors that I know. It sighs, “I’m tired.” It whispers, “I feel diluted.” It moans, “Get me out of here.”
Last week, we got not just one, but two days off from classes, and so what did we do with our last-minute four-day weekend? If you’re like most Hopkids (Hopkins + kids = Hopkids), you spent your class-free day studying for the classes you didn’t go to.
Netflix is everybody’s favorite recent pastime. It’s the easiest thing to do, requiring little-to-no effort and boasts a variety of high-quality programs that can entertain for hours. It’s incredibly easy to become addicted — it’s an insidious process really. You set out trying to procrastinate for half an hour, and four hours later you wind up in a bevy of confusion wondering what happened to your Monday night and, more broadly, what you are doing with your life.
This past Intersession, I went to Cuba. The trip meant so much to me and it has taken me a while to write about it. I went with eleven other Hopkins students for the Intersession study abroad class. The fact that Hopkins even had the trip was one of the reasons why I chose to come here. I had been itching to go to Cuba since I was a freshman (and maybe even before then) when it was a class on Hemingway. I am glad that I took this class instead, which had a much broader artistic focus. After spending a semester in Rome, a place that I have studied since I was in the sixth grade, I was ready to go somewhere that I knew very little about but that had some sort of hold on me.
We’ll just put it right out there: Dooby’s is worth the trip. While our lunchtime noms could not surpass the dinner meal that simply ROCKED, we enjoyed the space for its laid-back vibe and convenient Charles Street people-watching. (This, by the way, is the perfect homework distraction.) Dooby’s turns off its Internet from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. to accommodate the lunch crowd, so we worked in the beautiful and awe-inspiring Peabody Library (we’re sure studying in there actually makes you smarter) and then headed to Dooby’s for a late laptop lunch around two.
Hear your voice on tape, or watch your face on screen, and it’s alien. Unnerving. Disturbing.
I don’t remember the first time I was catcalled, the first time I felt uncomfortable because of the way a man looked at me on the street or even the first time I was groped, but I remember the first time it had to do with my race.
As a double major in political science and archaeology who is also studying Arabic, studying abroad in Amman, Jordan was an obvious choice for me. It wasn’t as obvious to my family and many of my friends, who asked things like, ”Is it a safe?” or “Will you have to wear a burka?”
There are few things I love more than awards show fashion. The second the new year rolls around, I am filled with anticipation for the jaw dropping looks, the horribly placed layers and the inevitably unflattering gowns. To be fair, bad dresses happen to everyone. I, myself, thought my white fairy dress for junior prom was fashion. However, in my opinion, this year’s Oscars were less than underwhelming.
It’s that time of year. The Facebook cover photos have changed. The Greek keyboards have been downloaded. The date parties have started. Our five sororities have recruited their new members, and all these girls couldn’t be happier. But with so many of them having rushed and a few sororities hosting continual bidding, sometimes for the rest of us, it feels like everyone else went Greek.
It’s an ancient story of opposites: yin and yang, light and darkness, cheap and chic, communism and capitalism. Though seemingly direct opposites, they contain traces of each other and, if taken to the extreme, provoke the same reactions. Or do they?