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(09/27/18 4:00pm)
Roughly a year ago, I wrote my first column for The News-Letter. In an attempt to “introduce myself” and this column, I unwittingly put myself into a box. I labelled myself as “the British girl” because that’s what I had already been labelled as by most people I’d met just a few weeks into my first semester here. I allowed myself to stay within that box, however, and I can only blame myself for that.
(09/27/18 4:00pm)
It’s been 11 years since I read the very first Hardy Boys book, but if you were to ask me about its ending, I would be able to tell you everything about how Frank and Joe Hardy solved their first mystery together. Because of my really good memory when I was younger, I never understood how people could read the same book or watch the same movie over and over again. If I already know how the story is going to go, then what is the point of seeing it all unravel again?
(09/27/18 4:00pm)
In my last column, I discussed the opportunity gap at Hopkins for low-income students, like myself. However, in doing so, I feel as if I misrepresented myself, so I want to make one thing clear:
(09/27/18 4:00pm)
As anyone who knows anything about the Dutch will know, they are obsessed with cycling. It’s not too surprising though, when you think of how small the Netherlands is (around 42,000 square kilometers or twice the size of New Jersey) and how flat. When the steepest incline you have to ascend is just a canal bridge, you quickly realize that cycling seems like the most logical mode of transport. Tour guides always like to ask the trick question to tourists about how many bikes they think there are in Amsterdam. They might give a hint that the population is a little over 830,000. Can you guess?
(09/27/18 4:00pm)
You’re with your friends, and you wash your hands thoroughly to get the Dorito crumbs out from under your fingernails. You humorously blurt out, “Sorry guys, I’m really OCD.”
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
A few years ago, I went to a concert with two of my close friends. It was a punk festival at Ottobar that featured a few different performers, but we were most excited to see the local band Snail Mail, who only had one EP out at the time. After some bizarre sets during which we all almost got punched in the face by a flailing guitarist and listened to a woman remix her screams on an electric keyboard (my one friend still jokes that I was the only person able to dance to the rhythmic screeching), Snail Mail came out.
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
1. Meet somebody in the back of the bus – the place where three seats face three seats. Your friends and you will fill up one row and two boys will sit down in the other. After a few minutes on the circulator, Stanford sweater will ask if you girls go to Hopkins? Your friend should say yes. The other boy has cauliflower ears and you wonder if he’s a fighter like you, he is a pale man with a ginger beard and rough hands.
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
I don't know how to write this. I have been wanting to write it for a very long time, but there's always something wrong with the words that flow – at some point it was that I wasn't ready – still too close to the problem to write about it. Then, I was too emotional, too unstable. And at every point there was something or the other that prevented me from writing.
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
As we approach the one year anniversary of the bombshell reports on Harvey Weinstein’s decades-long reign of sexual terror over Hollywood and the global explosion of the #MeToo movement, the press and social media are burgeoning with questions of redemption.
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
I’m liberal, yet I recently went to the pro-Trump Mother Of All Rallies (MOAR). I’m gay, yet I recently went to a rally where many of the attendees supported a president whose statements and actions have consistently attacked the LGBTQ community. I’m Jewish, yet I recently ventured into a space full of individuals who support a president who has empowered Neo-Nazis.
(09/20/18 4:00pm)
I never thought I would be able to say I’ve danced (and won) the “In My Feelings” challenge in front of Kevin Plank, the CEO of Under Armour. I did not exactly volunteer with the intent to do so, either; in a classic story of overenthusiastic-intern-volunteers-for-literally-everything, I did not even know what I was signing up for before the spotlight was burning a hole through my forehead.
(09/13/18 4:00pm)
Last spring I was talking to a friend, who has already spent years in Europe and Asia, about all the places we’d like to be able to visit some day.
(09/13/18 4:00pm)
Next week, I’m going to be having my head shaved. Not by choice but, rather, as part of a medical procedure. I’ve never been one to put too much effort into my hair, usually just letting it air-dry overnight and wearing it down.
(09/13/18 4:00pm)
Nobody warned me before I went to The Book Thing of Baltimore that it would be at least an hour-long endeavor in pacing and scanning shelves for anything that caught my eye.
(09/13/18 4:00pm)
Hello there! I am writing to you today from almost 4,000 miles away, in a charming café on the bank of a gorgeous canal, among the busy chitchat of the everyday Amsterdammers (the café is called De Drie Graefjes — would definitely recommend their red velvet cake!).
(09/13/18 4:00pm)
Earlier this summer, news of Starbucks’ decision to eliminate plastic straws sparked celebratory progressive cries, cynicism about banning a little piece of plastic and a healthy number of memes. Internet buzz aside, are our straws truly endangered? They’re on the decline, but the wave of progress isn’t as rapid as it may seem.
(09/06/18 4:00pm)
“When you look down from the top level of Brody Atrium: I wonder if a fall from this height would be enough to kill me.”
(09/06/18 4:00pm)
Why do you do what you do? Seriously.
(09/06/18 4:00pm)
1) This is non-negotiable: You must fall in love. Find someone you’re attracted to, maybe someone from Jiu-Jitsu with chiseled eyes and cheesy dimples who smiles at you from across the room.
(09/06/18 4:00pm)
Going back home after your freshman year of college can be pretty weird. This summer, I felt compelled to revert back to my pre-Hopkins self: a person who was less confident and more emotionally unstable — awkward, perpetually stressed out and overwhelmed by mundane events and interactions.
