Oberlin Blogs

Under the new management, the Apollo now has two-dollar matinees, is screening a few different movies a week, and they're starting up a great new-old tradition: the midnight movie.

Lorain County has an amazing set of metro parks all over the county, full of hiking/running paths, lakes, reservoirs, rivers, creeks, waterfalls, natural wetlands, tons of wildlife - and all linked by a bikeable set of country highways that make up the Back Roads and Beaches route.

Our president Marvin Krislov presented Dr. Morrison with several gifts, one of which included a note from her 91-year-old first grade teacher from Lorain, Ohio - a phenomenal moment to consider that this powerful, Nobel-Peace-Prize-winning, larger-than-life inspiration to me was once upon a time, merely a first grader.

Picture three of us lying on our backs with our heads on each other's stomachs, listening to the birds waking up, and talking about life after college.

I could spend the rest of this post muttering to myself about the eight books I read over break. However, I don't think that's what you're here for.

For three weeks of the year, the walls of the Bent corridor (which I totally thought was just a descriptor, not the name of two illustrious alumni, up until last week) are graced with beautiful local artwork from students from the 9th Congressional District. I was ever so lucky to be there photographing it.

I'm not even a huge history buff, but there's something stirring to the soul about stumbling across an old, crumbling stone and barely being able to make out the engraved letters: Born a slave, died free.

Working for a paper is exciting at times. Going without sleep comes with the territory.

When I got the note, I started dancing in the library and letting out some jubilant obscenities. I hadn't expected to win, especially for a story I hadn't workshopped, in a style I was new at.

I've already got crazy nostalgia for the long, lazy summer days spent lounging in the hammock on our porch, the nights of impromptu jam sessions with my more musically inclined friends, the smell of freshly baked bread rising up from our kitchen.

Last Sunday I moved into my house for this semester. Now I officially live off campus.

In this post: countercyclical economics, Main Street v. the Big Box, student migratory patterns, the Evangelical Vatican, yoga, and a poor ending.