Oberlin Blogs

What being a Filipino American has meant to me.

I'm unexpectedly spending my summer at home in Visakhapatnam (Vizag), India, and I'm certainly making the most of it.

By the time we signed the lease, the one thing that I really remembered about the house we were going to rent was that it had a huge bathroom.

And so, my life in Oberlin goes on. Slightly different, but definitely still very, very exciting.

I still get to hang out with many of my friends and chat with professors about our shared academic interests. It is necessary, however, that when looking at classes in the course catalog I limit myself to drooling, like a diabetic child through the double-paned glass window of a chocolate shop might.

"Is there such a thing as playing the field anymore? Is there a middle ground between a couple and a hookup? Because it sure doesn't look like it." I think that there should be.

Although I have written before about my favorite places on campus, I left out one very important building.

If this entry had audio, it would definitely have me doing a KILLER Bill Cosby impression: "My WIFE Camille, with the Jell-O pudding pops..."

I can't get with that mentality and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am not a sports fanatic... er, fan.

As a veteran of several of their programs I am still completely obsessed with the Center's summer camps, but I'm a bit too old to be at WKU every summer. Instead, I've graduated to camp counselor, and this time to a roving group of creative teens at a film and media camp right here in Oberlin.

Well, no. I'm not actually going to talk about sex. Not no never. I've always been a believer that sex is sort of like music. You don't talk about making it. If you're good at it you don't talk about it. If you talk about it, you're not good at it.

And I make bad jokes.