Twenty years ago, I entered this world with no idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up. Sometime after that, I wanted to become a Pokemon master. At age 11, I was waiting for my letter from Hogwarts so I could grow up to be a wizard. Today, I’m working toward a career in journalism. And for some reason, out of all those career dreams, my mother objected to my career as a journalist the most.
It’s 5 o’clock in the morning when my alarm rings. It is time to go to work. After listening to a few seconds of Coldplay’s “Yellow,” I turn off my alarm and open my eyes. The room is dark. The night-light from the hallway creeps under the shut door and provides the only visible light in my room.
It felt as though the world had completely lost its mind — the zodiac calendar changed and whatever your original sign was probably fell victim to this awful tilt of the Earth’s axis. Gone were the standard 12 zodiac constellations and, with it, our sanity.
If my boobs could talk, they would probably say many things. For one, they would probably tell me how much they hated being surrounded by the padding from my high school prom dress. They would probably tell me how uncomfortable it is when popcorn gets stuck down there during a movie. They would probably scream how much they hate Victoria’s Secret because they feel that the saleswomen laugh at them. But most of all, I think they would tell me how hurt they’ve felt that I disliked them for so long, because after all, they probably have feelings too.
Homecoming this year was a tremendous success. ASUCI held numerous events throughout the week which tested this year's homecoming court on everything from...
Double majoring isn’t easy. Now, that may sound pretty obvious to most students. Or you might completely disagree. If you’re the type of overzealous academic who would dare a double major (or an extremely brave triple), the intellectual and scheduling strain of juggling two majors is probably perfect for your productivity. I thrive with a heavy course load and tightly structured days. My problem is more of a social and environmental problem.
It was a sweltering summer day in a village outside of Nairobi, Africa. Jenna Tourje, a second-year graduate student in urban and regional planning, approached a man who lived in a mud hut in the middle of the African savannah. Armed with a translator at her side, Tourje sat down, among the gathering of goats and chickens, to speak with the man about his water needs in order to understand what kind of project her group, Engineers Without Borders (EWB), could accomplish at that site. As the conversation came to an end, Tourje heard the ring of a cell phone. To her surprise, the man, who had almost nothing to support his three wives and starving children, took out a cell phone. At the moment, Tourje realized how incredibly connected the world had become.
Most people don’t remember the dreams they had as a child. For me, however, the vivid images of my childhood nightmares will be forever ingrained in my memory because they always involve the same scenario: an earthquake.
An old man in his sixties chants a mantra in a metaphysical center in Anaheim, California. The smell of rose incense and sage permeates across a room with high ceilings and old carpeting.
A trip to the supermarket is reassuring when you find that you’re following your budget. Yet, while manufacturers aren’t raising prices on your favorite products, they are coming up with clever ways to offset rising costs by downsizing products, which means charging the same price for a lighter package.
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