Oberlin Blogs

I took a few shots of the bells, of campus, of the students headed down the ladder. A different perspective. I live for this.

Every year at this time I wonder how time flies so quickly. This weekend I began reading early decision applications. I will be reading applications for the next 5 months of my life.

You can tell how stressed I am by how many lists I've made, and right now I'm making a lot.

Sometimes you have to remind yourself that your education is not just about classes, homework, papers and tests.

Although we were all a little homesick that day, there is something really special about the evolving sense of family you develop with the people you meet in your life after leaving home.

During fall orientation, while moving all my belongings from storage to my room, I got a phone call inviting me to Thanksgiving. And due to the sheer wonderfulness of this family, and their foresight, I accepted. I knew that my Thanksgiving would feel like home with the Albrechts.

I'm keeping the coat, of course. There's a lot of life there.

My running log for Tuesday, Nov. 11 says "cold run, 3.5 miles in 25:36. Ran through the Arb, ran to North Fields, back along Woodland." This is not the whole story.

As a rule, I try to avoid soaking in sicky-sweet pools of sentimentality (diabetes does, after all, run in my family), but when I talk about Thanksgivings at Fairkid I can't help but get that...

The real difference between seeing the dress and the show, though, is the audience. I've been in performance audiences lovingly called the "little audience that could," the small audiences that make up for lacking size with more emotion, appreciation, and gusto than a full house.

There's something to be said for a small liberal-arts college in a backwater hamlet a charming slice of small-town America that has two newspapers. And there's something more to be said a college that has two newspapers ( The Oberlin Review , The Oberlin Grape --for which I am a copy editor), three non-fiction magazines ( Wilder Voice , Vox , In Solidarity ), a literary journal (formerly The Plum Creek Review , formerly Enchiridion , now The Plum Creek Review --again), a genre-fiction magazine ( Spiral ) and doesn't have a journalism department.

As I write this (but not as I type this, because I'll be doing that later), I'm drinking egg nog left over from my dinner at Lord/Saunders. That's right, I ventured to south campus to eat dinner tonight.