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Dean’s Date woes do not seem to have dampened the brisk business of the Princeton Coffee Club’s latest venture — a pilot for a student-run coffee shop in the heart of campus. In fact, the line for free coffee in Campus Club’s Tap Room was surprisingly convivial for a campus perturbed by impending deadlines and examinations.
During the seemingly endless purgatory of reading period, sometimes a meal is the only indication of the passage of time. Other than the promise of inhaling Murray-Dodge cookies after six hours in Firestone, what else can we look forward to? Everyone needs a break, and during this time of year, sometimes the only pleasure in a day is a good meal. Luckily, whether you’re on the hunt for quick fuel, for a coffee run to excuse a three-hour break, or for something to do after finals, this list has you covered for every possible situation.
As we dive into the final week of classes for 2018, the promise of winter break (and warmer weather for us Californians #westcoastbestcoast) shines at the end of this burnt-out and exhausted tunnel. With students grinding harder than ever to cushion their grades before the wrath of finals in January, it’s hard to find any red and green on this perpetually orange campus. Before you lock yourself in Firestone for the rest of the week, take some time to add a little holiday cheer to your routine and you might just find yourself cranking out that p-set to some Michael Bublé “Christmas.”
It was only fitting that President Christopher Eisgruber ’83 moderated what might safely be called the most contentious debate to ever rage within the Whig Hall Senate chamber. I refer, of course, to the Annual Latke-Hamentaschen Debate.
Sign-in clubs are antithetical to the implicit, unstated goals of the University. In order to prepare students for the harsh, demanding social climbing that they will need to do to reach the pinnacle of their money-grubbing careers and donate vast sums to the University, it is essential that they experience isolating social behavior at an early stage.
With Labyrinth’s fall sale coming up this Thursday, Nov. 8 through Sunday, Nov. 11, here are some book recommendations that everybody can enjoy:
Step 1) Find friends who are as excited as you are (or just encourage friends to partake if you cannot find anyone who can match your enthusiasm). Once you have a crowd, and depending on the size, assign each person a character of a TV show that you all like or at least know a little about.
It’s that time of year again. One day, everyone’s out sunbathing on Alexander Beach; the next, it’s scarves, sweaters and a whole lot of crimson.
With the impending doom of midterms looming over campus, students pile into Firestone and the third floor of Frist, a Small World coffee in one hand and a half-hearted determination to write their papers in the other. At the end of the seemingly never-ending tunnel of psets, however, is one of the best nights of the school year — Princetoween.
Auntie J. here, with another dose of love and friendly advice. I hope you’re all readjusting back to our lovely New Jersey climate (Auntie isn’t), and that you’re rocking all your classes! If things aren’t going so hot, though, don’t forget; you can always turn to me at bit.ly/askauntiej, and the lovely people at The Street will let me get back to you as soon as we print again!
This week’s question inspired a lot of debate over at Auntie’s house:
Returning to campus for Princeton fall as a sophomore, I’ve felt like a freshman again as I reacquaint myself with the Orange Bubble and the feelings only living here can rouse. I’ve had to relearn how to read books without getting distracted, how to find the spoons in various dining halls, how to feel lost, how to fail. For optimistic not-yet-but-soon-to-be-jaded first-years settling into their first semesters on campus, amid the excitement of new classes, parties, and friends and acceptance come inevitable first encounters with exclusivity and rejection.
The introductions trickle around the circle: the kid who’s already taken every class the professor has ever taught, the lone engineer, the person whose most thrilling fun fact is that they … own a cat. It’s the first day of your newest seminar, and it’s time for your first oral presentation. The topic? Yourself.
My school year began with wandering off to the middle of the woods, leaving behind all electronic connection, and taking a group of nine first-years with me. We were heading into the Pine Barrens in New Jersey, a place known for its dense and sandy woods. Princeton’s Outdoor Action program takes around 650 first-years to explore the outdoors, and every trip experiences something a little different. But my trip wasn’t just a little different, it was a whole ’nother ride. And I guess that’s what college is all about: doing the unexpected and meeting new people during the process.
During my trip to northwestern China, I wrote that the Ganjia grasslands looked like “clay molded by a child’s capricious fingers, or yards and yards of hastily-unspooled velvet.” Such overindulgent description didn’t make good prose, I knew, but I wanted to preserve Gansu in its entirety — the yaks and prayer flags, the brilliant green expanses eliding into sky, the sky’s unblemished hue. A similar excess beset my photography. Why rely on the vagaries of memory when there was always a camera at hand? That summer, as I traveled from city to city with my global seminar, the number of photos on my phone ballooned into the thousands. So too did the pages of my journal fill. I wrote about my first time navigating Beijing’s subway system, the sensation of being squeezed against double doors and coughing kids, jockeying wordlessly for space. I wrote about Shanghai, Shenzhen, Guangzhou. Even in my dreams, I can see every detail with a startling clarity.
A helpful guide on getting back into the grind:
My MacBook and I have a very exclusive relationship and see a lot of each other. As a 21-year-old college student at an Ivy League university, I am hardly ever without my laptop. When not writing notes by hand in class, reading a physical book, out with friends, eating, or sleeping, my MacBook is within arm’s reach, usually open. My life revolves around a glowing metal box. But my metal box looks unique. I like to dress it up and show it off.
Nothing makes a new year first feel real quite like a trip from Labyrinth, feeling the weight of the semester’s responsibilities literally settle on my shoulders. By the end of my freshman year, the initial thrill and motivation of receiving my first coursebooks had dried up — I didn’t totally feel I was learning for myself anymore. At Princeton, we all need ways of reminding ourselves why we do what we do, and, even more so, why we love it. As an English/humanities student, it’s easy to make a chore out of something that’s given me joy my whole life — reading.
Auntie J back from her long-awaited summer break, eager to hear all about what you got up to on your breaks.