Word: buttings
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I couldn’t help but feel so socially inadequate. What had I done wrong? I had friends. I was friendly. Maybe too friendly? Maybe friendly in the wrong kind of way. People liked me. People liked me? I thought people liked me. Somewhere along the line I had...
Until the e-mail. It was instant déjà vu. The Winthrop housing gods revealed to me my floater room number and my new floater roommate. B-32. Nick. An @fas e-mail address to which I was encouraged to write. The anonymity made it feel like freshman...
With little warning and much haste, the buzz-cut jock and I moved into our dorm together. We had nothing to talk about, so we shimmied about the room in near silence. But as he heaved his final box into the room, Nick looked around our common room and said...
It was just how it was supposed to be. We were so different but, somehow, once Nick brought his old red futon into our room, things started changing. Nick and I were like Bert and Ernie—no homo. My jeans were skinny, his loose. My voice loud and...
Floating hurts, but I believe being plopped into murky water could benefit more than a few Harvard undergrads. The College should maintain its incredible housing system with all the social and academic perks it has offered to students for the past century. But at the same time, it should still...