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Bloom's Day

Midterm Mayhem

April 14, 2011

If midterm assignments were mattresses, my current semester would represent those tiny cots I used to sleep on at camp—just a tad too tight, even by 12-year-old standards. My sophomore spring, on the other hand, would be a king-sized mattress. No, scratch that: it would be a Sealy California King Posturepedic mattress. Why do you need all that space? There were too many important tests taking place over too long a period. Last year, I was preparing for midterm exams essentially every other week, in addition to doing other regular problem sets, essays, and assignments.

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The Café Nomad

March 10, 2011

It did. I couldn’t believe how much my day improved—and how much my life could improve—by drinking a mug of caffeinated gold. I was hooked. I now use various liquid mediums to stay awake, usually espresso drinks at cafés or soda from the dining hall. And what wonders it has done for my social life! Going to cafés with friends is a new option that makes me hip.

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The Trouble with Shuttles

February 24, 2011

Was it thoughtless of us? Yes. Am I humiliated? Slightly. Here’s what one of the people who commented on the Crimson article about the counterfeit shuttle had to say:

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A V-Day to Remember

February 10, 2011

V-Day didn’t improve from there. The varsity field hockey team held an annual Valentine’s Day rose sale for charity. It was a rather uncharitable event for those of us who didn’t receive dozens of flowers. Yellow roses and cards came from friends; red, significant others; pink, secret admirers. Each year, popular girls flaunted the number of roses they received, insincerely lamenting the clumsiness of the bouquet they had just collected. If you received fewer than five flowers, you might as well have just thrown them out. To acknowledge such a dearth was worse than to carry none at all. The sale was dreadful for us students, heightening our teenaged insecurities. It was completely unavoidable, too; the rose distribution took place en route to the cafeteria. And even if it hadn’t, we probably couldn’t have escaped the temptation of seeing whether this year would be different, whether this time we would receive a pink rose.

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