I consider myself to be something of an expert on death. In my short time on Earth, I have been to about 13 funerals. So most of my life, I have been faced with all the questions that come with death. Well, at least I thought I had. I scratched my cornea during spring break.
Today, I surrender. One of the more annoying things about traveling abroad is foreigners, upon learning that you’re American, assume you are fit to bear responsibility for national policy and action across the globe.
It seems music biz stars these days just can’t keep their pants on. Or their video cameras off. The latest scandal revolves around R&B extraordinaire R.
My mother makes a mean matzah lasagna. Even with the limited selection of delectable (yes, that’s sarcasm) kosher-for-Passover foods available in grocery stores, I take comfort in knowing there will be homemade matzah-ball soup and matzah lasagna at home waiting for me.
Somewhere on campus an ugly rumor has been circulated: Being a mentor is torture. It is a job attempted only by three groups of students: those who have a death wish, those who want a guaranteed single with free room and board or those who (cringe) actually care about their fellow students and want to make college the best years of their lives. Yes, I am part of the third group.
On the wall of my dad’s office there hangs a folded up piece of paper with the words “Your an great princebul Mr. Ronko” scrawled on it in black crayon. My dad, an elementary school principal since 1993, always has been great. He was the coolest guy ever when I was a kid.
With the recent charges against MSU students allegedly involved in Eric Blair’s death, I can’t help but think about drinking and its consequences. I’m a college student and, yes, I drink.
Peter Gibbons of “Office Space” said it best: “It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.” Those simple words can sum up my entire college career in many ways. I really would like to write that five-page paper sooner than the night before it’s due or read the book instead of just seeing the movie.
I wasn’t your average high school student.A lot of kids had standard nicknames stemming from popularity status, sports prowess or good-natured fun.
My car broke down Saturday. But aside from that, it was a relatively good weekend. Still, the damage has been done. So, I’ve been looking for someone to blame for my misfortune.
If you don’t want your teenage children to get roughed up by police, then teach them not to steal cars. That’s what I would have told a group of about a dozen people who turned out at a meeting earlier this month to discuss an investigation into Lansing police officers’ use of force in arresting two teens. For those of you not familiar with this story, let me offer you a quick recap.
Sometimes I really miss Napster. I’d often hear the song that’s been in my head for a week on the radio while driving home from work.
The complexity of human love makes rational discussion difficult. We think we understand what it means to love and be loved.
During the past three years I occasionally have ventured outside of my tea-steeped apartment and tried to experience the near-mythic bar scene at MSU.
I hate award shows. I mean, I really, really hate award shows. At first, it’s fun to pick your favorites to win.
I cry. A lot. On a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. The reasons range from utter grief to irrepressible joy - anything that tugs at my overly sensitive heartstrings.
The teaching assistant in my Integrative Studies in Arts and Humanities course was not ashamed. “We expected we would have three TAs for this course,” she told a cross-section of about 100 students.
It’s a cool, clear and breezy November day. Everyone’s anticipating the turkey roasting in the oven, but not as much as they are for the Lions’ game.
In most respects, I consider myself to be a fairly average guy. Like most average guys, I want to finish school, find a desirable job and potentially settle down with 2.3 children and a house in suburbia.
Not making the NCAA Tournament is not the worst thing for the Spartans. In fact, it may be the best thing for the young team. The Women’s National Invitational Tournament is giving MSU another shot at postseason experience, allowing the Spartans to prove they will be a dominant team in the future. Assuming the Spartans (16-12) had made the NCAA Tournament, they would have received a low seed.