Today is Friday, February 10, 2012
Today is Friday, February 10, 2012
Make a list of your extracurriculars. Now list why you do each of them. If the reason for any of them is any iteration of the phrase “looks good on college app,” stop doing those right now. I have been there. It isn’t a place you want to be. It isn’t a place your college of choice wants you to be, either.
There are about six people on campus at any given time who believe I am very intelligent. These are the people who are currently only just beginning to know me. Those who have known me for a while will know by now that the only reason I am able to make coherent sentences is because I’ve had so much practice.
As of 12:00 AM on Friday, March 4th the NFL lockout moved from possibility to full-blown reality. With the lockout comes potentially major changes: chance of an 18 game season, a completely new Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA), and–worst of all–the chance that there could be no football whatsoever in 2011.
In high school, where a good sense of humor is practically synonymous with your social skills, the joke reins supreme.
Number 1: He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To daff’t for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen’s a squire
I miss the good old days. The days when we used to take long school bus rides and sing “99 bottles of beer” until our teachers wanted to paddle us like it was their “good old days.”
It seems that the most amazing thing about grandparents is also the most fragile, and the most obvious: they’re old. They’ve lived a long time and they have a lot of stories. I wish now that I took the time to listen to more of them.
When I was younger, my parents always suggested I take up an individual sport. “You can still play team sports, but you can play table tennis or martial arts or racquetball on your own,” they would say.
And while I may have the genes to play everyone’s favorite game involving a ping-pong table (my grandma is in the Table Tennis Hall of Fame, after all), I never ended up picking up any sort of paddle, or sparring gear, and I couldn’t be happier that I didn’t.
Whether it’s “my dog ate my homework” or “let’s just be friends,” we constantly fabricate our own reality. We’re not supposed to, but we do. Despite this fact being endlessly drilled into our minds since the moment the stork dropped us on our pretty little heads, it seems to be an essential part of human nature.