Is it killing me that I’m in Florida, literally a five-minute drive from the beach, and I can’t go soak up the sun and splash in some waves? Absolutely. But I won’t risk my health or the health of others just to get some rays.
This week, we’re introducing a new series called, “Thoughts from Quarantine.” Every week, three of our editors will answer a variation of this simple question: “How are you feeling?” This week’s prompt is, “How are you feeling about the differences between your previously normal routine and new reality?”
It’s easy to lose perspective as a college student. It’s also easy to feel nostalgic — both as a college senior and a writer.
Now, our big adventure involves a lot of social distancing and stocking up on baby wipes (Kroger was out of toilet paper when we went).
We at The Miami Student are heartbroken over how everything has developed in the last week, but — as our staff prepares to transition leadership to a new editorial board and reflect on the last year at Miami — we have hope that good will come in the uncertain future.
Since nobody asked, for my last Miami Student column, I’ve decided to publish a list of things I’ve learned in my time at Miami University.
This may sound abrasive, but you are the reason you are so stressed out.
Fast fashion is killing a lot of things: the environment, our bank accounts and individual expression.
There is a pervasive attitude within fraternities that hazing incidents will eventually blow over. That’s because they usually do, and the university allows it to happen.
Being by myself felt like I was behind the game. It felt embarrassing. But I reminded myself that, in reality, every new student had the same anxieties I did and were too busy worrying about themselves to even think about what I was doing.
Tagalongs, Thin Mints, Samoas, Shortbread. Need I go on? I don’t think I do, because you already know I’m talking about the sensational and seasonal treats that grace our cabinets in the springtime. That’s right; Girl Scout Cookies.
It feels like a really long time since Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor published the story that kicked off the investigation into Harvey Weinstein’s history of sexual abuse and, some argue, the revival of #MeToo.
Our staff wants Crawford to sign the PCLC’s climate commitment. Of the three commitments the PCLC offers, we believe the climate commitment would provide a plan that builds off of the efforts Miami has already made to ensure a long-term, holistic overhaul of sustainability on Miami’s campus.
On a Wednesday late last semester, I turned 22. I was standing on the dance floor of the Brick Street Bar and Grill, clutching an amaretto sour in one hand and a vodka-cran in the other while my friends cheered for the stroke of midnight that ushered in my 22nd year.
As a young woman, it feels as though you have to walk the fine line between being “basic,” or “hipster.” Both sides are heavily criticized — “basic” girls for being too mainstream and like everyone else, and “hipster” girls for being too weird or different. You really can’t win.
Last week, I was chatting with some friends about how I prefer not to celebrate Valentine’s Day. A few of my friends agreed with me that it’s become more about spending money and showing off and less about love, but most of my friends seemed shocked that I wasn’t going to do anything for my significant other on Friday. It isn’t just with my friends, but with my family, too. My grandparents send me annual Valentine’s Day cards. Even my mother said to me on a call, “Maybe you should think about doing something this year.” But why? Let’s start off with the obvious: Valentine’s Day is no longer wholly about love. Instead, it has turned into one of the most capitalistic, money-grubbing holidays of the year, outdone only by Black Friday, Christmas and (to some extent) Halloween. When one of the best things about a holiday is the sales during or after it, you’re not really celebrating the actual idea behind it.
I have to wonder if the writers of “The Office” knew what they were doing when they wrote their series finale. The easy answer here is that they obviously did; Google “the office finale” and you’ll find think piece after think piece about how perfectly NBC’s hit sitcom concluded. My actual question lies within a specific quote. Did the writing team know that “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them” would wind up plaguing yearbooks and Instagram captions for (probably) decades to come? It’s a nice quote, and as someone whose self-admitted tragic flaw is sentimentality, I can see why fans of “The Office” cling to it like a treasured family heirloom.
I live in a house with three other oldest daughters, and it shows. Our house is always clean. We’ve mastered the art of domestic coziness, provide our younger friends a candlelit respite from their dorms and if someone is making a breakfast more elaborate than cereal or toast, they always cook for everyone. Rarely is one of us upset for more than 20 minutes before the others notice and sit them down to talk about their feelings or offer to bake them cookies. We are all currently, or have previously been, leaders of student organizations. Our families like to communicate their issues with each other through us. We are all stressed.
As I scrolled through my Twitter timeline last week, I noticed a lot of tweets about Billie Eilish, something not out of the ordinary for the past few months. After releasing her debut album in March 2019, Eilish quickly rose to fame. The hot topic trending on Twitter this time? Her first time at the Grammys. At the 62nd Grammy Awards on Jan. 26, Eilish was the star of the night, winning five of the six awards for which she was nominated. She became the youngest person to ever win Album of the Year and the second person (and first woman) to ever win the Big Four: Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year and Best New Artist.
It was a night like any other. I had just finished washing my face and could still taste the mintiness of my toothpaste. I laid my head on my pillows and opened up my new favorite app — TikTok. Watching the short, comedic videos became a part of my nightly routine when I downloaded the app last semester. I get a sense of peace from ending my days with a lighthearted laugh. But, as I scrolled through the endless loop of videos on this particular night, I noticed a new trend that didn’t make me laugh. I watched TikTok after TikTok of teenagers sitting silently in their bedrooms while the song Ribs by Lorde played in the background.