On Friday night, Riley and I ate ketchup.
This time of year, this overwhelmingly bittersweet period, is unlike any other. The middle of May is busy; the calendar is filled to the brim with parties, awards ceremonies, and spontaneous Frisbee games. Skin starts to tan, muscles regrow and the beauty of a late-evening walk is at its peak. The school year is winding down. Over the next few days final goodbyes will be said. Celebration will be overshadowed by sadness; every good morning means just a little bit more as the number of mornings remaining dwindles. These are the final days. These are the glory days.
I have a lot of problems with the English language. But if I had the power to change just one thing, I’d create another word for ‘pride’.
Yes, I’ve heard of a thesaurus—in fact, I even use a thesaurus, big college kid that I am. But we don’t use a lot of the synonyms. We overly rely on the word ‘pride’ itself, and it’s messing with one of the most powerful of human experiences.
The “firsts” of childhood are among the most memorable of life’s moments. Even if it’s not the most significant event, a person will remember his first day of school, the first time he rode a bike, or the first time he hit the tee ball coach in the gonads. Fond memories, those are.
In that spirit, I want to tell you all about the first time I watched Star Wars:
Today the UMBC community was treated to one of the best ideas the Student Events Board has ever had: a Puppy Party. Continue reading