Not the meaning of life

“What do you want to be in life?” Long, dramatic pause. “Happy.” ​ If I had a nickel for every time somebody told me that his or her overarching life goal entailed “happiness,” I’d have enough to confuse and infuriate every cashier whose store I tried to buy anything from.
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Believing in tolerance

Michelle’s mish-mosh

A few weekends ago, I went on a misadventure-filled camping trip with my temple’s youth group. I returned home brimming with stories of ill-fated hikes, tipped kayaks and rain-drenched sleeping bags. My friends, on the other hand, were less interested in my camping tales of woe and more intrigued by
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Heteronormative sex, FTW

Savage heart murmurs

Sex is overrated. Everyone, more or less, loves it. If it is not sacred, it’s a mindfuck. If it’s not about passion, it’s about not giving a fuck. If it’s not only the greatest sport to ever exist among mankind, it is at least reminiscent of televised love. Sex between
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Moving beyond the template

CaliforMiacation

My name is Mia Nicole Shaw, and I was born and raised in San Francisco, Calif. I’m thrilled to say that I’ll be coming across the bridge to Berkeley in the fall as part of the class of 2016! I plan to major in economics and minor in human rights.
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Remembering not to forget

Michelle’s mish-mosh

The last time I saw my grandfather was through the glass windows of his Los Angeles home. My sister had both arms extended, easing him into the car from his wheelchair. I stood frozen inside the house, watching, unsure of where my place in this picture was. In the same
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Riding in cars without choice

Savage heart murmurs

I cried the first time I drove on a highway. After I made one sharp turn after another around the backroads of Butte County, my stepdad told me to make a slight left turn, mentioning something about monkeys and freeways. I merged onto Highway 99 thinking it would be just
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Confessions of a spill-a-holic

Michelle’s mish-mosh

The cake was a masterpiece, rivaling a Beethoven symphony. Each layer was a stunning interlude that, when joined together with the others, exploded in a trifecta of confectionery perfection, like the crash of the cymbals. After I made two successive trips to the grocery store and spent three hours whipping,
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Just FB-ing around

Savage heart murmurs

I found a book without a cover the other day during my shift at the library. I opened it expecting to find a puke-worthy title about business tactics or maybe something dismal about economics. Instead, I glossed over what I instinctively thought to be Chinese characters that surrounded some English
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Off the Beat: Three huge little words

When I woke up last Sunday, it wasn’t Mother’s Day. It was just another morning that seemed best spent in bed until I was awoken by a text from my mother asking if I wanted my absentee ballot mailed to me from my home in Los Angeles. I shot upright
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Off the Beat: Nostalgia and nose piercings

Body art and multiple piercings can carry deeply personal or spiritual implications. They can be done in honor of a loved one or commemorate a moment that is special enough to be carried forever. Then there are other motivations. On the last day of class my freshman year, I dragged
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