We are experiencing a real “sign of the times” moment at MSU. The economy has plummeted, and although it appears we have hit the bottom, we do not know how long we will be here.
I rush from class to office hours, then to my counselor, back to class and to work. I don’t sleep for 40 hours in an attempt to get caught up from that one night I spent talking about religion, politics and the English army instead of doing my Mandarin Chinese. I bike in the pouring rain, the cluttered leaves, the freezing temperatures. And I keep getting lost on the Capital Area Transportation Authority buses.
I once accidentally flicked off a priest because I thought he was one of you. Anytime my daily run is interrupted by an obnoxious car horn, I immediately jump to conclusions, and the end result is the high-flying, rage-filled, stride quickening and obscene hand gesture that is provenly effective at assuring either one of two things.
From an early age, we’re taught the value of compromise. Whether it’s learning to share in kindergarten, conflict resolution in elementary school or mastering the give-and-take relationship in marriages, society expects us all to come to a compromise on a number of issues.
When game times for this weekend’s Big Ten games were announced, a friend of mine, who happens to be a Michigan fan, texted me, “Michigan-Ohio State at noon on ABC. Great, now the whole nation can laugh at us again.”
Where’s my flying car? I know, I saw that flying car on BBC’s “Top Gear” as well, but that’s not what I meant. That car was stripped down and had nothing in it.
November was supposed to the toughest month of the year for the No. 14 MSU hockey team.
Have you paused for a moment while you are changing channels to dwell on any one of a thousand self-help paid commercial programs or segments from public television where a guru of some sort or other leads you through five or 10 or 20 steps to better this, that or another?
Don’t chew with your mouth open. Keep your elbows off the table. And whatever you do upon first meeting someone, do not talk about religion.
Results of a recent international poll state the United States is the nation where most would like to move. The results might be surprising, especially considering current circumstances.
As my May graduation date looms ever closer, I can’t help but think about more than a few regrets about my college experience so far. Sure, I wish I had studied more for a few tests, enrolled in — and dropped — another class or two, and pursued closer relationships with a few of my favorite professors.
I like to believe in people. People learning from other people, growing from other people and helping other people.
Last week, voters in Detroit elected a new City Council and passed an initiative to change the way the members of the City Council are elected.
I celebrated my 22nd birthday Oct. 27. Another almost memorable night at the bar, filled with my closest friends, good music and a bit of tequila. When I awoke the following morning, I realized the truth about my birthday.
Police worry students have no respect for justice, so they hit students over the head with it. Students think police don’t sympathize with them as fellow humans beings, and that they have no respect for individuality or moral integrity, and so they learn to duck.
There are few things that define people more than their particular senses of humor. Comedy, we are told, is a fine art, and different people find different things funny. Some people think Kathy Griffin is funny. A lot of college students love Dane Cook. There are even a few among us who still like Rob Schneider movies.
As fall turns into winter, people prepare to get sick. For most of us, we either have had, or will encounter, some kind of illness.
Some co-workers and I went for lunch the other day. Upon entering the restaurant, one of my compatriots immediately exclaimed her disgust.
The other day I was in the Main Library, trying to study for my two Spanish midterms — like a good student — when from across the first floor hall I heard music blaring from someone’s iPod earbuds.
Tulips lined sidewalks, a pine canopy swayed protectively overhead and the whispers of the Red Cedar River crawled in my ears as I skipped pleasantly to class, happy to be alive — until I saw it.