Oberlin Blogs

Here's to Thanksgiving exploits and a belated summary of fall break adventures.

Through my own personal failings, it is my wish that you will become enriched with wisdom.

Do keep in mind that during this whole exchange Jacob and I are running at a pace of 3 to 4 minutes per mile, stripped to the waist, pectorals gleaming, swatting away the female delegation from the class of '61 with other members of the class of '61. Impressed?

If it comes to pass that neither of these plans is favorable, it shall be known that Sci-Fi Hall and Classics Hall are officially "in a fight." Terms of war will be drafted, and we will meet you on the battlefield.

While this is by far not the classiest thesis to have picked for my second blog post, one cannot deny that food is a subject about which blog posts ought to be written. So, ladies and gentleman, look forward to a passion-charged ramble about my favourite dining spots in and around Oberlin.

It's just like Julie Andrews says (sort of), "I simply list some of my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad!"

November means many things for Oberlin: the typical college leaf piles, a strange flip-flopping in the weather from early-fall-crispness into Winter Is Coming ominousness. It also means that ExCo applications are due.

What's a safe space, you ask? Good question. I'm not sure either.

Ain't it funny how the night moves? And the day? And the weeks?

I never intended to end up on the roof of Peters. It just happened.

The womb chair, taken on the macro-scale, is an analogy for the soft, supportive, wonderful, dreamy bubble of Oberlin.

On many an occasion during and after orientation when I have had to introduce myself, I have encountered a number of interesting scenarios in which my first name ignited a hilarious chain of events.