Word: breakfasting
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...helpful and was willing to do anything to help me get my joint [concentration].” Both the faculty and the concentrators are described as eager and supportive. For Yuri Vendenyapin ’04, the love affair with NELC began two years ago when he ate breakfast with Peretz Professor of Yiddish Literature Ruth R. Wisse at Au Bon Pain. “She really made a strong impression,” he says. “I am mostly interested in Yiddish studies and that’s what attracted me to Harvard and NELC. The atmosphere...
...more than 200 members of the Greater Boston Chamber of Commerce enjoyed a breakfast buffet at the Park Plaza Hotel, Summers presented the ideas that have become a cornerstone of his agenda since his arrival at Harvard—developing the University’s “little real estate development” in Allston and building a center for life sciences akin to Silicon Valley...
...hang of this whole “chilling out” thing. (And, admittedly, I became a big sib for Boston Refugee Youth Enrichment (BRYE), in part so I would have some organized activity to do each week.) Now I was getting sleep, and eating a big breakfast every morning, and had time to read The New York Times at a leisurely pace. My longtime roommates—Ben, Joey, Marco, Ari W., Ari S., and Myu—actually saw me in our ridiculously large seven-person suite again. I worked out with Joey, and went running most days...
...Michael Downing, the author of four novels, including Breakfast With Scot, was an outsider to Buddhism before beginning the three years of research that went into his latest effort. With a newcomer's sense of discovery, Downing lays out the crowded, complex and extremely unlikely story of how the San Francisco Zen Center became the first genuine Buddhist institution ever established outside of Asia, and how it transformed from a roomful of earnest protohippies trying their hand at an exotic religious practice into what, for a time at least, was arguably the single most significant center of alternative spirituality...
...seven: I accompany my father and mother on board a recently docked British destroyer in the harbor of Portsmouth, N.H. Tall, elegant officers of Her Majesty’s Navy ply us with toast, fried tomatoes and sausages during a formal breakfast. The captain barks at a subordinate in a white cap. I am enchanted. I, too, want a uniform...