When I’m trying to be cool talking about my intersession I tell people I was visiting friends who are doing a gap year in the Capitol (which is technically true), but mostly I was hanging out with my aunt and going to art galleries.
I’m all about puppies during finals because I never feel like less of human than when I have written the phrase “sociopolitical framework” and wondered whether what I meant was actually “geopolitical,”
When rockets fired from the Gaza Strip hit Tel Aviv for the first time since 1991, I was studying at an army preparato- ry program in one of the city’s southernmost neighborhoods.
Sitting down to watch last week’s Super Bowl XLIX, I thought I knew what to expect from an event the 49th of its kind: footballs on the field, fantasies in the commercials. From advertisements aimed at male audiences, I was accustomed to
hot babes, racecars and rock stars. What I found, instead, unsettled me.
It was half past midnight. The snow was soft and crisp from the other side of the glass. The radiator spluttered, rousing from its hour-long slumber. Like adding cotton to an over- stuffed pillow, it seeped a heat into the tired room that stirred our restless desire to descend.
