On May 7, two students went into our high school, STEM School Highlands Ranch, and opened fire at our peers, killing one student, Kendrick Castillo. On May 7, our entire world shattered in mere moments.
In light of being prematurely sent home due to the coronavirus, never have I seen such complex, crafty, and community-minded memes be published at this quick of a pace. In memes and advocacy, I see conduits for empathy, for community building, and ways to make people feel better, in variant but parallel methods.
Attending classes from the comfort of my bed is turning into my academic Achilles heel. When I’m not in class, I’ve found this time has given me plenty of opportunities to explore hobbies, both old and new. What have I spent all my free time doing? Baking.
The world we live in is undoubtedly changing in various facets day by day, and how we socialize and connect with our communities is no exception. For at least some Princeton students, TikTok is taking on an increasingly prominent part of their social lives as our campus community is spread out across the world.
When a pandemic means losing control over one’s life, the qualities which make us human become compromised. The choice to associate COVID-19 with China stems from historical and systemic choices in America to associate disease with foreigners and particularly Chinese immigration.
Recently, my mother asked me what I miss most from my incomplete first year as a Princeton student. When remembering began to hurt just a little bit too much, I gave an answer that was true, just not entirely: I missed the California burger from late meal.
These memories are ones we were promised, ones we were banking on, and ones our peers, just a year or two older, do bank on — for support, solace, and strength. Now, they’re like polaroids that got jammed and never came out: we came tantalizingly close to having them, but there’s nothing to be done about the simple fact that we won’t.
I had forgotten the joy of checking out books from the library, but I was reminded of it once again after arriving in Princeton. I was first reminded of it when I checked out three books for my writing seminar and felt weirdly excited about the fact that the oldest due date in any of the books was from approximately four decades ago.
As I write that, all I’m hoping for is that the saying “third time’s the charm” really holds come next fall.
As I try to summarize my thoughts on the museum and my overall impressions of the city, I realize that I took on five different personas in response to the bright new sights. Allow me to expand.
I was laying in the courtyard — the galleons of the sky were dancing impressionists imitating varying animals and beings — when President Eisgruber walked over to me and began to say in a monotone voice: “The library is now closed. The library is now closed.”
“I am exhausted,” I said to every person who asked how I was doing during the first week and a half of the semester. Naturally, the question-askers wanted to know why I was exhausted, and my answer was simple: the Princeton Triangle Club’s 2020 tour of “Once Uponzi Time.”
I expected all of these feelings before leaving for break, and although new to this, I was mentally bracing myself for this whirlwind. I wasn’t immune to any of these post-break effects, but no one mentioned the overwhelming homesickness I would feel.
It is a known fact, by anyone who has attempted to get work done while sitting in one, that the dorm desk chairs do not do a good job at the one thing that is expected from a desk chair: being a comfortable place to sit, which would allow the user to get their work done.
Dear Sexpert, Basically, my boyfriend and I were in bed. He was going down on me while simultaneously fingering me. When he was doing that I felt like something was going to be released, but I thought it would be squirting. My body did become a little tensed up, and my muscles felt stuck. When we finished having intercourse, he said that there was some liquid that had flown down my vagina. He thought it was cum. I have a history of white discharge, but this one seemed a lot more liquid-y. I don’t know if I came or if it was white discharge. Could you help me out? –Fluid Detective
When I took the first bite, I instantly knew I was home. Much like the scene in “Ratatouille” where the food critic Anton Ego has a flashback to his childhood upon tasting the ratatouille served to him, I remembered all the previous times I had eaten grilled cheese at home. The warm, gooey center of cheese between the buttery, crispy-on-the-outside-but-soft-on-the-inside bread slices brought me a sense of inner warmth and joy.
So, here’s your guide for black haircare here at Princeton: set aside a specific day to take care of your hair, and develop a thorough wash day routine. If you are transitioning to a natural style, focus on highlighting other aspects of your appearance that make you feel confident. While you are natural, stick to one brand that works for you. And finally, whether you are in need of a particular product or hair for your protective styles, your best bet is to find them online, probably Amazon.
The Tiger Tea Room in Firestone is a hidden gem for studying students, especially during midterms season.
But for all of those of you who are still lamenting your rejections, I propose a new student group: The Princeton Reject Club. It’s completely normal to be rejected. Princeton is a highly selective school to get into in the first place. And here we are, existing as a pool of extremely talented, ambitious, (slightly) competitive people, and we’re all fighting to belong.
I hope you’re not overcommitting yourself the way I am. If you are, though, I hope you’ve found comfort in knowing someone else has it the same way.
