No more New advice: Just laugh
Well, it’s finals week again.
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Well, it’s finals week again.
Breakfast
In the course of celebrity worship, the laughing-stock is a much-examined figure.
Dr. Peg is out this week, so I will be filling in as the voice of health-consciousness.
Dear Facebook:
I have to pass a math class in order to graduate. While I respect math and its precision, you could literally sink Albuquerque in the void that is my desire to work on math. I’m a languages major, and I can’t see when I would ever, ever, need to graph a quadratic function.
Now spring break is over; the weather is warming, and we have only eight more weeks until we are free again. For some, graduation approaches. For others, summer is just going to be another sweaty hiatus spent toiling at Olive Garden.
I am not one to judge a hipster by its cover. I don’t assume that you are one, either. But as a society, we’ve begun to profile these fixed-gear bike jockeys, and we’re using our sense of disdain to fuel a reliable stereotype. It tears me up because there’s so much lost in the translation. Put simply, I think it’s a sub-culture like any other, and I would be no more inclined to disrespect a mime for his face paint than I would a hipster for their ten-pound beanie. But I’m going to take this opportunity to voice some of my ideas on the matter, because one way or the other, “hipster” is a part of everyone’s vocabulary now. No one can avoid the ubiquity of its lensless, thick-framed gaze.
The days have turned gray, the semester is nearly over, and there is a palpable sense of fatigue on campus. It’s that time of year when we all just want to shelve the books for winter and retire to the comfort of a warm bed, preferably with someone else in it. Granted, before we can enjoy the tranquility of winter, there is that final gauntlet to run: finals.