Word: home
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...then we know where we want to go. For almost a quarter of the upperclass population, getting there is the next concern. Those of us who need to go home the Quad end up waiting at Johnston Gate at obscene hours of the night, or morning. The other option, similarly disheartening, is checking our e-mail and the shuttleboy program in the Science Center. I think that's probably the worst. I'll be standing at an email terminal, probably not feeling 100 percent alert, and to top it off, it's 2:30 a.m. on a Saturday...
When I'm finally at home, snuggled in bed with my glass of water beside me, I'm glad I ventured into the wilds of the Harvard social scene. Not only was it fun, but I feel like I've been through the rough and back again. It gives me more to talk about over brunch than writing a sophomore paper, working on a chem problem set or sitting around watching a movie...
Beyond the verbal comedy, what you will take home with you is the tune to the title song. You'll be humming it after you see the show. Yes, you will. Although the Gershwin centennial has come and gone, Harvard feels like a Georgian place...
...helped host a party earlier this year, we knew one of the hosts well and just put our coats in his bedroom. But this was just one of the obstacles we encountered while making our way from the Quad, through the tepid River party scene and back home again in one piece...
...dance. Which is something I have never really understood. There is little else that makes a party interesting. It's hot, it's sweaty, there's probably some form of bad alcohol and there's music. So why not dance? If you're not going to dance, go home and watch a movie for crying out loud. Oh well, maybe the bad alcohol will take effect before the party, inevitably, ends...