After yet another uphill kitchen last week in Houston Hall, I decided it was high time to switch things up and go all the way to the other end of campus to Tilton Hall to cook up one of my favorites: pierogies!
American reality television in the 2000s was infamous. Strange concepts abounded, such as“My Strange Addiction” (2010–15), where subjects would confess to anything from eating half a roll of toilet paper a day to being in love with a car and “Bridalplasty” (2010–11), where brides competed in challenges to win a wedding and desired plastic surgeries.
I am well aware that just last month, I went on a tirade claiming that baseball was broken because of the lack of spending limits. But, just because I don’t like the system doesn’t mean certain teams aren’t stupid for not taking advantage of it. Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs — I’m looking at you.
As evidenced in my last installment of Ruminations from Rabat, traveling has been a main priority of mine this semester. I have been particularly committed to traveling within Morocco and to experiencing all the rich cultural diversity the country has to offer. I spent the first three weekends traveling to Tangier — a colorful Andalusian wonderland — Essouira — an artsy beach town on the Atlantic coast — and lastly Casablanca, the buzzing heart of Morocco.
I started this column to discuss the ongoing collapse of America’s educational system in the face of limited funding, lack of parental involvement and bad policies. But before we get to any of that we must address a very serious question: Why do we have a taxpayer funded mandatory public education system in the first place?
After getting out of the Uber with four of my closest friends, we slowly struggled down the steep steps leading into the Italian Embassy. It was February 10th, the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, and we were approaching the Embassy’s Valentine’s Day Gala. Waiting outside the entrance were the regulars: military men, congressional staffers and couples in mid-life crises. I’ll get to that last part eventually. But for now, I want to outline the chronicle of how we — a group of 20-year-old know-nothings — bargained and earned our attendance at a formal event like this. Others might call it cheating, but I call it the hustle.
Frank Ocean has not dropped an album in nearly eight years, Kendrick Lamar took five years to release his fifth studio album and A$AP Rocky fans continue waiting for his next project after six years.
Welcome back to “The Bookmark,” your go-to column for book reviews! Last week, we started off with a review of a relatable coming-of-age novel. This week, we’re shifting to a very different genre: science fiction. We’re talking about “Dune” (1965) by Frank Herbert.
Throughout its history, the Daily has primarily focused on coverage of professional or Tufts basketball. In celebration of Daily Week, I aim to reflect on how the Daily gave me the opportunity to write about a passion of mine, college basketball, and in turn, how my column has contributed to the sports section of the Daily.
Palliative care is a unique sector of medicine that treats patients with terminal diseases. Palliative care physicians have conversations with families to identify patient wishes, particularly when they are facing death. These physicians are equipped with training that emphasizes empathy, comfort and patient autonomy. Freedom of choice during the dying process gives patients the power to reclaim their agency amidst a process rife with uncertainty.
It was a carnival, a trance, an extravagant nightmare. Welcome to Viareggio Carnival 2024.
Anyone who knew me sophomore year is aware of perhaps my greatest moment as a resident assistant: the pickling party. And yes, it was exactly as it sounds. Using my (rather limited) RA budget, I decided that the best use of this was to invite the four Wren Hall suites I was responsible for to a party where we pickled anything they requested.
The tie-wearing, court-going, corporate lawyer career path pictured in TV shows like Suits is one that feels familiar, so I wanted to learn more about the journey to becoming a social justice lawyer, or what Monika Batra Kashyap referred to as a rebellious lawyer. So, in continuing with our venture to find a “dream” career, this week I met with Monika Batra Kashyap, immigration lawyer and visiting clinical professor at Seattle University School of Law, to learn more about her career path.
“They annoy me,” Dakota Johnson recently stated about her co-stars Sydney Sweeney, Celeste O'Connor and Isabela Merced on the press tour for the recent release “Madame Web.” Johnson, perhaps most known for playing Anastasia Steele in the “Fifty Shades of Grey” franchise, has always been known to be something of a loose cannon on press tours.
In honor of Black History Month, I thought I’d dive (or rather, dip my toes) into jazz’s journey to Bombay for this week’s edition.
While walking through the Res Quad during the past few months, you may have noticed the sticky note “H>M” and “M>H” signs displayed in the Houston Hall and Miller Hall windows, respectively. But which one is actually better?
PECOTA stands for Player Empirical Comparison and Optimization Test Algorithm. It’s a fancy way of describing a system used by the organization Baseball Prospectus to predict the MLB standings in a given season, which it does every year. Let’s just say I’m not too crazy about the algorithm — and not just because it doesn’t have the Chicago Cubs winning the National League Central. These are, in my opinion, the five most insane PECOTA projections from this year’s iteration.
In the words of Eminem, “Guess who’s back, back again?” Spoiler alert, it’s me. I’m back and hungrier than ever. So, this column is back too, allowing me to rant and rave about my eats at Tufts.
Let’s start this column out strong with a recent favorite read: “Writers and Lovers” (2020) by Lily King. This novel is smart, fun, reflective and just an all-around great read. It’s guaranteed to make you feel the full range of emotions, prompting you to laugh one second and cry the next. Narrator and protagonist Casey Peabody is very lovable in her awkwardness and determination to make it as a writer. We see her face the complexities of life: grief, love and, of course, geese. More on the geese thing later…
Taking a psychoanalysis class this semester brought me to a frightening realization — most of the dreams that I remember upon waking up are war-related nightmares. The dreams have a repetitive plot that always revolves around the aftermath of Russian attacks: burned-down buildings and dying family members. On Feb. 10, when a Russian drone attack caused the fire that killed at least seven people in Kharkiv, that dream partially came true.
