Wearing sweats in public makes me think of sleepwalking. Besides the handful of times I’ve made it to the RSF, I save wearing my shapeless cotton pants for sleeping days and ones that don’t entail too much sweating. It’s not that I think sweats look (too) gross or hopeless — Read More…
I never really liked going to frat parties. Before this coming-of-age admission, however, I was a freshman desperately trying to enjoy college in the midst of periodic existential dilemmas (or was it just hysteria?). So, I followed my floormates out the door in guises resembling Amy Winehouse, a marionette doll, Read More…
If marijuana is as dangerous as heroin — as the Drug Enforcement Agency classifies it to be — then Californians are living in the midst of a drug epidemic. Most Californians, however, know better than to believe this hype, as joints are passed around in concerts like bread in church. Read More…
My mom, brother and a federal Pell Grant bought me a Macbook Pro on Saturday. After I knocked a bottle of nail polish remover over my $650 Toshiba Satellite laptop (limited edition with Harman Kardon speakers) last week, I was without the 24-hour convenience store of information and utility that Read More…
Already light with cheap beer, I was entitled to one free drink (albeit with an $8 cover charge) at Starry Plough as one of that night’s randomly chosen poetry slam judges. Every week, the unsuspecting Irish pub hosts the Berkeley Poetry Slam group, composed of local individuals drunk with the Read More…
I think girls are hot. Because I think so, a classmate who I unknowingly led in the wrong direction suggested that I might be sexually confused, or “trapped in the closet.” Walking through campus on a sunny day celebrated by short skirts and ethereal blouses, my obnoxiously masculine utterances are Read More…
Get on the fucking sidewalk,” I heard as I made a wide right turn past a house party near Willard Park. Though I failed to follow the bro’s solid advice, he cheered me on as he yelled, “Fixies for life!” twice as if I didn’t hear him the first time. Read More…
Glancing at my ticket, the train conductor dubbed me “Miss Berkeley” for the remaining 1.5 hours on the Amtrak. “I thought you kids were out for the summer,” he told me as he stamped my ticket set on top of my library book. “Yeah, well I was out too much Read More…
Well, you know when you pedal, and you don’t go anywhere?” my friend answered when I asked her what was exactly wrong with my fashionably functional bicycle. Though I had ridden it to her house only the night before, I had a feeling there was something slightly off with my Read More…
My last grocery bill totaled about $35, a budget that naturally excludes the likes of King Pin runs. Intended for two weeks worth of ten-minute dinners, quick orange juice and banana breakfasts, trail mix laced with too much chocolate snacks, and other such indulgent necessities, my grocery list lacks the Read More…
