CULTURE
Saturdays are for the...entrepreneurs?
By Hannah Montgomery | March 17, 2020Drinks? Check. Music? Check. Local vendors and student entrepreneurs? Check. Wait, what?
Drinks? Check. Music? Check. Local vendors and student entrepreneurs? Check. Wait, what?
I’ve always loved a ritual. Proms, bat mitzvahs, confirmations, swearing-in ceremonies, quinceañeras, masses, weddings, funerals. And graduations. Rituals help us take what is ordinary, what is necessary, and transform it into an event. A moment that helps us step out of our everyday selves to recognize that the momentous has happened. Now, it looks like the chance to pause and feel how momentous graduating is might be taken away.
Going off to college, my soon-to-be roommate was texting me, excitedly talking about future plans and how she couldn’t wait to get to Miami. It seemed like all my friends from home were the same way, counting down the days until they would leave for school. I was the complete opposite. I was terrified to leave the only place I had ever known to move 300 miles away and live with complete strangers. When my parents left me, I cried the entire walk from their car back to my dorm, before wiping my eyes and trying to pull myself together as I met the people I would be living with for the next year.
The XT700 Styrofoam Densifier
Photo courtesy of Sammy Harris
After a brief introduction, four dogs ran out onstage to blaring rock music, taking their places on four wooden crates in a line upstage. Dog-loving families had packed the seats of Hall Auditorium to see Mutts Gone Nuts, a traveling comedy dog show, at 7:30 p.m. last Friday. Founder Scott Houghton entered in a red velvet blazer, introducing the dogs to the audience. Their lead trainer, Samantha Valle, stood behind the mutts, directing the tricks and sneaking them treats from her pocket.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m a picky eater. I tried to make a list and thought of 25 foods I like. While I’m sure I’m forgetting some, you get the point.
I texted my dad the other day to show him a recipe I’d found – he responded pretty much right away with excitement, declaring he’d try his hand at it in a few days. Waiting to hear how it goes is providing more anticipation than any March Madness prediction he could ever come up with.
Meemaw is not so much a believer in measurements. Or detailed instructions, for that matter. Back when she could still cook, my aunt tried to learn her secrets by watching her do it, but had a hard time interpreting how much a dash of this or a “humping spoonful” of that actually was. No one, to my knowledge, has tried to make creamed chicken since Meemaw became unable to. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the legacy of food, and the ways in which the things we eat as children shape us.
In China, it’s common to ask 你吃了吗 (nĭ chī le ma) in Mandarin, translated as “Have you eaten yet?” in English, as a form of greeting. This tradition must have been spread over the world by the Asian diaspora, as my family will continue to ask me this instead of the usual “Hello,” “Howzit” (Hawaiian pidgin slang) or “Welcome home.” But regardless if you have eaten or not, they will give you food.
I told my cousin about how my housemates and I often take turns cooking meals for one another, and it’s a rare occasion when we don’t end up eating our meals together. “You’re kidding me,” she said, incredulous. “You guys actually do that? I don’t even share groceries with my housemates.”
“The Wolves,” a one-act play by Sarah DeLappe, follows a girls indoor soccer team as they warm up before their game each week. The nine girls slide tackle big political questions and social topics with the energy and awareness of high school students. The cast consists of ten women: nine teammates identified by their jersey numbers and a soccer mom played by professor and Chair of Theatre department Julia Guichard.
Tucson DeShon drapes a white apron across a boy sitting in a dorm room desk chair. “What are we looking for today?” he asks. DeShon, a sophomore marketing major, started cutting hair during his junior year of high school. He’s a triplet, and one of his brothers, Turner, was tired of going to a barber to get his haircut.
Starting in the wee hours of March 19, Miami University students across Oxford will begin celebrating Green Beer Day (GBD), a “holiday” where students dress up in green clothing or wear shirts sporting pop culture references related in some way to drinking beer colored a ghastly shade of green.
Sunlight beams in through the large windows at the front of the living room as Robert Schonlau sits before the gleaming ivory keys. His face, reflected in the glossy black finish above the ivories, is contemplative and serene as he adjusts the large-rimmed glasses on his face. Back straight and feet reaching for the pedals, the 16-year-old pianist sets his fingers to the smooth keys.
Every year, a new wave of first-year students are invited into the realm of sisterhood. Through the four seemingly never-ending rounds of sorority rush, girls search for a place to call home. But this search does not end when they receive their bid. Through lunch and study dates, a week full of being spoiled with surprise gifts and the final big reveal, sorority pledges go on the search to find the person to guide them on this new journey of sisterhood.
Cover photo courtesy of Pixabay
The old stand-by. The pee-can. God’s loophole. It goes by many names, but anyone who’s someone in Oxford has taken a fat piss in the men’s bathroom trash can in the Brick Street Bar & Grill TM. But this gray beauty is moving up in the world, leaving its home underneath the hand dryer and taking its rightful place among the stars.
From last season’s Bachelorette Hannah Brown’s return and Champagne-gate to contestant Madison Prewett’s ultimatum, Peter Weber’s season of “The Bachelor” has been full of controversy, drama and tears. Every season, Chris Harrison announces that this season of the Bachelor franchise will be the “most dramatic season yet.” And now, looking back at Weber’s journey as the bachelor, Harrison wasn’t lying. If there is one word to describe this season, it’s “dramatic,” as there was some sort of mishap between the women in every single episode.
Gone are the days of the white Oscars. Well, at least, for the most part. The pressure has been on the Academy for years to change their pool of nominees from solely honoring brightly shining white characters that always seem to be front and center to including the diverse filmmakers and cast that are usually shunned behind the curtain. But racist tendencies of the Academy are not the award show’s only issues.