Word: awkwardnesses
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...hardest part about Harvard is getting in.” False. From infected shoulder wounds at the women’s fencing tryouts, to considering getting cozy with a TF in order to nail the English 168d lottery, to that awkward, on-site liver transplant at the Sigma Chi (drinking) Olympics, hardly anything at Harvard happens without a bit of blood, tears, and competition. Sadly, life for the wannabe starlets is no different. The process to be selected for Harvard’s fall dramatic productions is an intense commotion of tryouts, callbacks (or no callbacks), and more callbacks...
...making sure that those submitting these proposals are qualified to do so,” Wofsy said. Because any grant proposal coming from a professor is submitted by the University, he said that it would be more appropriate for the actual faculty, rather than an “awkward venue” of administrators, to award the necessary PI rights. The second part of the proposed change automatically extends approval for professors with PI rights at a particular division within Harvard to the entire University—for example, a faculty member with PI rights at Harvard Medical School would...
...things they wish someone had told them their freshman year: How to navigate through the new, exciting, and confusing world of college hook-ups. So freshmen, before you get your panties in a twist, or lose them altogether, take a look at FM’s guide for avoiding awkward sexual encounters... and what to do after you have...
...jarring end. And while freshman Facebook statuses bemoaning its conclusion have begun to pop up across the Harvard network, I can’t help but question the legitimacy of this nostalgia. Because, to be quite frank, Harvard is populated by a group of people who were undoubtedly painfully awkward campers in childhood, and why any such camper would virtually pine for a return to the contrived, queasy confines of any camp-like situation beguiles me. Flash back to the summer of 1998. Imagine Peter, my twenty-something camp counselor, struggling to silence a hot room full of rowdy...
...thicker, stiffer, more robust cards in our eager hands. We assumed that, armed with this new technology, we would only have to touch our hips, gently, to that magical spot in order to secure a smooth entry. We soon learned, however, that it requires a good deal of awkward fumbling to find the sweet spot that turns on the reader and causes the door to yield. Worse yet, to do it with our wallet still in our pants requires a great deal of pelvic thrusting, prolonging the moment when, finally, our impatient rubbing provokes that high-pitched shriek of welcome...