Endpaper
The Second Most Magical Place on Earth
I tell people at Harvard I am from Orlando but, actually, I grew up at Disney World. The important events
My Flaming Valentine
When I came out of the closet, I painted the door pink and nailed it shut. Yes, I’m a dramatic,
Ride Wit' Me
Walking into a lecture hall late, you earn a professor’s scowl, or at least a seat in Siberia. But sometimes
Making Me Over
Last week I got dumped. It wasn’t the nicely packaged kind of dumping, all tied up with ribbons of “I
Love Me Tender(izer)
The hand-sewn apron, lovingly crafted for my mother who hates to cook, is a tidy combination of several realms of
A Rival Rivalry
A commercial for Nokia cell phone covers that feature the logos of ACC basketball teams, begins with two attractive young
Crimson Spirit: a Manifesto
Wandering around the pre-football game tailgates is lonely; heading into the stadium at kick-off doesn’t make me feel much better.
Still in the LOOP
I can remember flying into New York at about this time last year, just before the Subway Series between the
Why I Love (the) Harvard (Band)
I own a crimson wool jacket and a black necktie with little drums on it. I know all the words
there are no atheists in foxholes
One of the biggest casualty of last month’s attacks was people’s security in their ability to control their own lives
Getting In
Pretty much the first thing that happened to me at Harvard was getting rejected. Like most freshmen, I applied for
American Pie: Changing the Recipe
Nine days ago, hijacked planes swandived into skyscrapers—the handiwork of terrorists, grim architects of hate. Apocalyptic blasts left a senseless