Word: basemented
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...Street and then changed both location and merchandise. Now the book store just across from Harvard Yard sells intellectual books that could be assigned for courses but are not textbooks as well as a variety of other books and merchandise. The store still sells used books from the basement. Harvard Book Store, like many independent booksellers, competes with major operations and online retailers by inspiring customer loyalty through a good location, friendly in-store environment and hosting author events. In the last year the Harvard Book Store has brought big names such as Stephen King, Madeleine Albright, and Tom Brokaw...
...felt ill during an exam. Most of all, I did not want to miss my final weeks as an editor at The Crimson and all of the traditions that came at the end, such as running a final editorial meeting and watching the presses in the basement print the Class of 2008’s final paper as editors...
...Kristine M. Boehm ’08 shopped for a wedding dress at Filene’s Basement in downtown Boston, her mother back in Guatemala sent invitations for her daughter to approve. The two were preparing for Boehms’ upcoming wedding in Guatemala, an affair in which the 12 bridesmaids will hail from all over the world—Alabama, Cuba and Puerto Rico, Germany, Guatemala, Japan, Mexico, Montenegro, and Peru. Boehm, 24, will wed Christian Móller, 32, on Sept. 6, two years after they met through mutual friends. Soon after meeting, they discovered that their...
...come true. The ubiquitous social networking site that brought them together has led to a wedding of international proportions. Kristine M. Boehm ’08 and Christian Móller As Kristine M. Boehm ’08 shopped for a wedding dress at Filene’s Basement in downtown Boston, her mother back in Guatemala sent invitations for her daughter to approve...
...morning alone listening to records; it was my job. While I realize it isn’t the bravest thing to hide under the banner of required aloneness, there is still something to be said for required solitude, for time away from Facebook and final clubs, alone in a basement, listening to screeching saxophones and melancholy chords. So here I sit, playing jazz and talking to no one (no one I can see anyway). And while it may not be the exactly what Jonathan Franzen was thinking of, I can safely say that I now know how to be alone...