Guest Columnist | Of heritage and homelands
After weeks of anticipation, I finally made it off the waiting list for a free Birthright Israel trip through Oranim: Let Israelis Show You Israel.
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After weeks of anticipation, I finally made it off the waiting list for a free Birthright Israel trip through Oranim: Let Israelis Show You Israel.
Who needs a lunch period when you can take an extra AP class?
At a Philadelphia Zoning Board meeting yesterday, it was the prospect of alcohol that caused emotions to run high.
It was 3:42 p.m., and I had just refreshed my browser for what must have been the twelfth time: "Error: the page you are trying to view is unavailable."
Here at Hogwarts - I mean Penn - Professor Trelawney's class in Divination has come to life. Suddenly, we are sorcerers, and crystal balls have the power to predict the future and ward off approaching danger. We may not be able to trap Voldemort, but mere Muggle murderers stand no chance against the prowess of Philadelphia.
In 2001, the illustrious Elle Woods dazzled Harvard Law School's admissions office as she strutted across the television screen in nothing but a very tasteful bikini. Clearly, her magnetic visual appeal would more than make up for an otherwise empty portfolio. Her artfully sculpted hair and brilliantly pink apparel would be certain indicators of her success as a future lawyer.
Admit it. In high school, you were probably involved in marching band, dance, choir or a theater group - and if you were just one chair higher in the all-state symphony orchestra, you would have certainly gotten into Princeton.
T hree years ago, my hall in the Upper Quadrangle was the victim of an unrepentant attack.
We're constantly signing our lives away. And most of the time, we scribble our names across the dotted line without even giving it a second thought.
As I walk down Spruce Street during the lunch hour craze, it's nearly impossible to slip through the mazes of people awaiting their food. To most students, the smoldered tin boxes that line the sidewalk are actually a desirable chain of mobile eateries. Yet the astonishing popularity of these houses of fat sparks the question - is student health in jeopardy?
It's about 11:30 p.m., and you've just woken up from your pre-all-nighter nap. Turning to your computer screen, you see six flashing instant messages, each ready to distract you from that problem set, midterm and paper. Revived from your nap, however, you put up an away message and strategically leave your room for a night of productivity.
Glancing around the classroom after an accidental doze, I see the contagious circulation of swallowed yawns, gulps of lukewarm coffee and the unintelligible comics etched in the margin of my neighbor's notebook.
Nearly every morning this summer, I scrambled out of my Columbia University dorm room to squeeze through the swarming porthole at 116th and Broadway - the entrance to the 1 train.
I am a Giants fan - perhaps one of the most blasphemous comments to make in the city of Philadelphia. I grew up playing catch with my dad in suburban New Jersey streets, and most Sundays, I knelt in front of the television screaming "defense" to unhearing white-and-blue defensive linesmen. If I were lucky, I would get to occasionally pile on layers of long underwear and make that turnpike trek up to the landfill-blanketed Meadowlands.
In a high-stress campus crawling with Type-A personalities, psychological concerns are bound to be rampant among students. The question is: To whom do we turn? Well, as we read in Wil Hershner's July 20 column, we are supposed to go to Penn's Counseling and Psychological Services.