“The night before the Lawnparties act announcement, I didn’t sleep—I slept for an hour,” USG President Ella Cheng told me last Saturday at a table outside Cafe Vivian.
In the early hours of a Friday in the spring of 1978, two hundred and ten Princeton students piled into Nassau Hall and occupied it for twenty-seven hours.
A blushing cloud: 縉雲 (jìn yún). Every time I explain to someone that my name essentially means “a red cloud,” I am reminded of a line from a poem by the 9th century Chinese poet Li Shang Yin.
On the night before Valentine’s Day, I ran to the Dinky in the frigid February air, wondering for the hundredth time how life would be different if my sister had gone to Princeton.
