Sexuality should not hinder conversation
How do you choose between omission and telling the truth in its entirety?
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How do you choose between omission and telling the truth in its entirety?
Do guys have an innate quality to know every football or sports-related statistic? Maybe not. But at times it seems to me that most do. Whether guys are discussing their fantasy football leagues or who played in the Final Four last year, I’m astounded constantly at the fact that so many men are sponges to the language of sports.
Recruitment, an 11-letter word and a process that takes less than 11 days in the greek community.
MSU is well known for its storied partying tradition. As a member of a family filled with Spartan alumni, I have been regaled with my relatives’ fuzzy, yet fond memories of their time at MSU (the ’80s sure sound like fun). For years, perhaps due in part to my wild family, MSU consistently was ranked as one of the nation’s top “party schools.”
There are so many clichés about college being a “big adventure” or a “new chapter in your life.” I will admit that to some extent, those clichés are very true. I mean, who doesn’t love a new adventure? But no adventure would be any fun without someone to go through it with you. That’s why having friends is important.
Before I lived on the East Coast, I hated hopping on a sweltering bus with dozens of other sweaty students as much as anyone. But after using the Washington Metro and the Philadelphia subway system, I’ve found there’s a lot about the buses to appreciate.
“You have seven allowed skip days,” my professor chuckled the first day of ISP 205.
It’s an odd pairing, East Lansing and I. If this were the Wild West and I strolled into town, it wouldn’t take long for a cowboy to walk up to me while chomping on a piece of straw and mutter something like “us folk don’t take too kindly to your type ‘round these parts.”
Paraphrasing Voltaire, many echo his famous sentiment regarding free speech: “I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” I will not pretend to be so noble.
I graduated from Michigan State in 2005, and I had the pleasure of having English professor William Penn about 10 years ago. I remember the class very vividly and still talk about it to this day. We would have extremely difficult pop quizzes consisting of only a handful of questions from the assigned reading. Everyone in the class scored horribly on these quizzes.
The phrase is quite possibly one of the greatest oxymorons uttered by our generation. So easily, it slips off our tongues. You check your latest bank statement: $19.83. Looks like you won’t be going out to P.F. Chang’s anytime soon. “I’m a poor college student.” But $600 for textbooks? That’s nothing at all. Don’t forget about your iClicker, notebooks and futon for the dorm. Oh, and did I mention the $42,652 out-of-state tuition, room and board on top of everything? “I’m a poor college student.”
For those living on campus and for those who are new to MSU, the intramural and various other workout facilities might disappoint.
As long as I live, I’ll always respect someone with the genuine ability to eat crow when it’s being served in any situation in life. If you’ve ever had a relationship of any length, you understand how tough that is to do.
The four major modes of campus transportation at MSU are biking, busing, walking an driving. As a freshman, their unique pros and cons are instantly noticeable, along with a problem they all have in common.
I read something the other day that was a little troubling to me, but nonetheless spot on. The student section in Spartan Stadium sucks.
Not many students who roam the banks of the Red Cedar River can say they have made the transition from residence hall (or dorm) life to off-campus housing, and then back to dorm life — but I can.
It’s been two years since I first arrived at MSU, and a lot has changed about my approach on life and myself.
Eight-fifty a.m. Alarm sounds. Get up. At 9 a.m. the alarm sounds again. No really, get up! Make a few calls for future stories. Get dressed. Go to class at 10:20 a.m. Class again at 12:40 p.m. Then 3 p.m. rolls around. Yes, I can finally can take a break. Well, sort of. Do some homework, make a few more calls. Don’t forget to eat! Go to class at 5 p.m. Leave early for city council meeting at 7 p.m. On deadline story due at 9 p.m. Meeting ends at 10 p.m. I finally get home at 11 p.m. Must eat, must study. One a.m. Bed.
Aziz Ansari wasn’t exactly his goofy Tom Haverford or Raaaaandy self on Friday at Wharton Center, and he didn’t crack jokes about being the “brown Ryan Gosling” or talk about his porky cousin Harris’ obsession with Cinnabon and “Lost.”
I like to think of myself as a food connoisseur. Not to brag, but I eat at least three meals a day — four, if you count late-night ice cream binges.