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Went downtown with a friend. Witnessed: people group hugging on top of potted plants, people on poles, people on traffic lights. Fireworks thrown inches away from where we stood. The ubiquitous aroma of weed and alcohol. People throwing bottles. Young children standing with their parents. People hanging out of cars. Honking, endless honking. Many happy, crazy people.
Going into the spring semester of senior year, this Intersession was all about feeling refreshed, and not least because I recently realized that the latest version of my résumé had a major misspelling. (Princeton “Univeristy” — I don’t want to talk about it.) After a long weekend at home post-finals, I left south Florida to return to a bitterly cold, nearly empty campus, but it wasn’t so bad.
The whirlwind of emotions and unfamiliar experiences felt by every college freshman makes it difficult to pause and reflect. Over Intersession, however, I took some time to look back on the past few months and realize just how much I’ve done and how much I love being a part of this energetic and talented community of people at Princeton. Here are the highlights of my freshman fall.
In this new chapter of my life, I find humor in your malice. The breakup was messy. The way you decided to process my actions and negate your missteps has just made it easier for me to realize how low I set my own standards when I decided to be with you. Now I know what I deserve. I know anger, denial, and mudslinging are how you cope, and although I shouldn’t respect you, I can’t help but have a loving disposition towards you and a genuine hope that you find happiness and success down the road. Having you in my life taught me a lot of things. As my first love, you taught me how to love someone else. However, it wasn’t until you were long gone from my life that I was finally able to learn how to love myself.
As a bucket list item for many people, road trips sound simple enough- but if Intersession taught me one thing, it is that they can be much more complicated than just packing your car with your luggage and friends and taking off. So, before you go ahead and take off, you need to take note of these essential tips:
On Tuesday, December 5, 2017, the Social Committee hosted the first ever Jingle Ball Concert Giveaway in the Frist Late Meal Gallery during late meal hours! The giveaway was for four floor seats at the Jingle Ball Philadelphia the very next day, Wednesday, December 6, 2017.
No one pays attention to the group of dancers gathered in the rafters at first, until four members of diSiac Dance Company vault through the aisles of the Berlind Theater pumping their arms to Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow.”
In my first article for The Street, “Lost,” I wrote about getting and feeling lost on an early autumn campus shrouded in mystery, its trees still holding onto their leaves, everything full of promise. Now, as winter approaches, everything becomes familiar, shrouded in memory instead. “In the beginning, I got lost all the time,” Lucy Zhang ’21 in Mathey said to me recently over lunch. “Now, I can’t get lost even if I try to.”
While we all share an excitement for the start of a much-deserved winter break this Friday, the traditions we will enjoy over the holidays are vastly different. This sense of diversity is the cornerstone of the Princeton experience. I, for example, have learned so much about the Judaism thanks to my roommate, Malka Himelhoch ’21, who is a member of the vibrant Jewish community on campus. She shared with me the details surrounding Hanukkah and specifically how her family celebrates this joyful holiday.
One Friday afternoon in late October, Jeff Whetstone, a professor in the visual arts department, was stationed in the Digital Learning Lab on the first floor of Lewis Library, sitting in a swivel chair with his black leather boots kicked off for comfort.
The two scenes are almost identical: both take place in the aftertaste of slam poetry, surrounded by smoky blacklight and boxed-in-bodies trembling to the rhythm of words, sounds, memories, and feelings.
“I remember what it feels like to dance. To move so freely that my body releases and creative intuition takes over, leading me beyond the worry of executing technique to a realm where nothing exists but the movement, the music, the emotions. I miss those memories of freedom, but they are embedded in my mind and my body. I can replay them whenever I wish.”
I felt like I’d been displaced, closed off from the real world. All that existed was the dark intimate space of this small theater. The night began with a trailer for the show, shown from a small screen in the corner. Scenes of death flashed by in fragments. A countdown announced both the elapsed time and the number of survivors left in the guest house. After 225 seconds, I was aware of a few things: The characters had gotten off a boat, they’d found their way into an empty mansion, they were being murdered one by one, and the murderer was someone among them. As someone who had never read “And Then There Were None” by Agatha Christie, I was paralyzed in my seat.
When I was little, my dad used to tell me several stories about my grandpa’s time in the Army, but one stuck with me the most. Sometime in the 1940s, he was helping two tribes negotiate peace in the mountain ranges of Oaxaca. After a few weeks of negotiations, the two factions reached an agreement and planned a celebratory banquet. My grandfather, as negotiator, was the guest of honor and received the first plate of food. Much to his surprise, the main course he was offered turned out to be cooked monkey brains and other assorted organs.
Escaping the confines of the Orange Bubble is always exciting, and even more so when your destination happens to be your favorite city. This past Sunday, I decided to take advantage of Princeton’s suspiciously cheap Broadway tickets and went to see “Wicked” in New York City.
And this is where I scared you off. Not consciously, because you still smile a genuine smile at me when you see me, but that little thing where I thought you noticed me too was extinguished. I expected too much from you, too fast. Instead of finding a way to deal with my mental health issues, I pinned my happiness on you.
Thanksgiving is a flurry of orange and red cornucopia cardboard cutouts stuck onto supermarket windows and kindergarteners waving turkey-themed arts and crafts at their parents. Thanksgiving, for us, began with Dranksgiving and ended with Cyber Monday, an almost weeklong period of absolute excess. It’s not just Princeton. Overeating and overspending are ubiquitous at this time of year.
The ballet is a staple of the winter season, telling the story of a young girl whose mysterious Christmas gift, the titular Nutcracker, whisks her on an adventure through a magical land of evil rats and dancing sugarplums. From Nov. 24 through 26, the American Repertory Ballet gave this show a home here in Princeton, New Jersey, on the McCarter Theatre’s stage.
