Word: homeness
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April smiles again, the worries falling momentarily away as they reach the one-time elementary school they call home...
With some “Harold and Kumar”-type fantasy and a vague desire to find out what stroopwafels were, I booked a last-minute ticket to Amsterdam for spring break. The phone call home telling my parents about this decision was, unshockingly, a bit of a downer...
Maybe. I’d never gone on a spring break vacation before, and had little knowledge of it outside of laying at home in my pajamas watching “Say What? Karaoke” on MTV. Spring break was a time when college kids assumed their parents had a temporary loss of television or eyesight, or a time when college students in warm places went to slightly warmer places for a week. For me, a pale Jew with uptight parents, one who burns at the smallest suggestion of sunlight and craves cold, foggy weather (eat your heart...
...that...Lady Gaga’s ‘Telephone’ coming out of your iPod? We hope you are listening to that ironically.” Everything seems faster here; everyone seems busier. Maybe it’s just that it’s home. There’s something endemically more interesting about someone from another country than about someone from another state, who calls soda “pop.” That’s not interesting. It’s just really annoying. I’m not really interested...
...trained for many years in the comfort of my own home,” Mendilow commented. He made the voyage from Jamaica Plain to Cambridge Common last Saturday morning to continue the cycle of violence that has recently plagued Harvard Square. His and roughly a thousand others’ weapons of choice? Pillows. Despite the ferocity of his battle cries (“Ahoy! Avast!”), this was Mendilow’s first time participating in International Pillow Fight...