What’s black and white and bears a small resemblance to a cow? Moo, the aptly-named bunny. Although she has slightly-longer ears and a more impressive vertical leap than her bovine counterparts, the color similarities are striking.
Senior Lexi Scherzinger’s interest in fashion has literally taken her around the world. In the summer of 2018, she lived in New York City and interned for world-renowned fashion designer Christian Siriano. She then studied in Paris during the fall of 2018, right after she decided to switch majors. Originally a strategic communication major, she decided to change to journalism. She’s known that she wanted to study fashion since her second semester freshman year.
After two-straight weekends of waking up at 6 a.m. to get ready for a day filled with small talk, Haley Faber couldn’t be more excited to celebrate the end of recruitment with her sorority’s new pledge class.
The display case offers a wide array of options: French, Italian, Caesar, balsamic and even raspberry vinaigrette. There is one particular dressing, however, that appears to be missing. At first glance, it feels like a mistake. Perhaps you simply glanced too quickly. Perhaps it’s stuck behind the raspberry vinaigrette packets. But no, as sad as it is to accept, the ranch packets seem to have disappeared from Lux — and this is where our Midwestern mystery begins.
On the first Wednesday of the spring semester, the line to get into Top Deck extended all the way down the stairs. Inside, the bar was buzzing with people carrying pitchers of beer to their tables and teams trying to find a space to sit — or at this point, stand. Ben Storsved, who graduated in December, and junior Hunter Wotruba stood in the back corner of the bar, behind a laptop and sound system and under a glowing Chicago Cubs logo sign — one of many neon signs decorating Top Deck’s walls. As the clock strikes 10 p.m., Ben leans in and speaks warmly into a microphone. “Hello friends and welcome back to another fantastic week at Top Deck Trivia!”
I have to wonder if the writers of “The Office” knew what they were doing when they wrote their series finale. The easy answer here is that they obviously did; Google “the office finale” and you’ll find think piece after think piece about how perfectly NBC’s hit sitcom concluded. My actual question lies within a specific quote. Did the writing team know that “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them” would wind up plaguing yearbooks and Instagram captions for (probably) decades to come? It’s a nice quote, and as someone whose self-admitted tragic flaw is sentimentality, I can see why fans of “The Office” cling to it like a treasured family heirloom.
The rain drizzling outside the windows harmonizes with the first few notes of “Piano Man” a student plunks out on the old piano at the front of the room. As another student draws the words “Spring Street Reading '' in bubble letters on a large whiteboard, students and English professors trickle in slowly, helping themselves to the coffee, lemonade and cookies laid out on the back table and settle in to hear their fellow students’ stories.
High school dances may be a cesspool of sweat and hooligans, but one dance I went to will always hold a special place in my heart. When I was a sophomore in high school, my school held a masquerade-themed Winter Formal. Traditionally, it was a girls-ask-guys dance, but I went with a few of my friends.
Across the titular street from the Oxford Fire Department, the lime-green ice cream shop used to be home to a drive-through bank, but now features bright colored walls, shelves full of knick-knacks for sale and quite a few customers who stop by regularly for pints to bring home.
On Tuesday nights, two very different styles of music can be heard emanating from a basement bar on High Street. Nestled underground on West High Street is Bar 1868, a laid-back lounge with an atmosphere that makes Brick Street’s bustling dance floor seem all the more hectic. The bar has pool tables, biweekly drag shows and, every Tuesday night, live music performed by Miami University seniors Karen Mayet and Zach Vanderink.
Li didn’t get to travel back to China over break, but when he started classes this semester, he was asked multiple times where he was from, and whether or not he was from Wuhan (the center of the coronavirus outbreak). But that doesn’t bother him very much. “I’m scared as well, so I totally understand why they ask that,” Li said.
All photos courtesy of Sammy Harris
The entrance to the indigenous Bribri Village. Photo courtesy of Ryan Yanchar.
“Miss Americana,” the new Taylor Swift documentary, made me feel guilty for going through a period in which I no longer liked Swift. I discovered her in 2010, and her second album helped me through a dramatic eighth-grade friendship breakup the following year. I was officially a fan, and so was nearly everyone else I knew, regardless of gender.
Tim: I think it was really smart that they started out with Shakira. Briah: Okay, can I say something? I don’t think either of them are singing. Shakira, she can probably do better than J. Lo (Jennifer Lopez) as far as singing and dancing at the same time. J. Lo, I just don't think possesses that talent. T: I definitely think their background tracks were turned up a couple notches.
When Dua Lipa took home the Grammy Award for Best New Artist last January, I was happy. When she released her comeback singles “Don’t Start Now” in November and “Future Nostalgia” in December, I was happy. And this past week, she came out with “Physical,” a jaw-droppingly good retro-pop banger with a beautiful accompanying music video. And I can’t stop listening.
Aug. 29, 2016 was my fifth day on Miami’s campus after I’d first set foot on the red bricks and moved into Thomson Hall. My phone lit up, abuzz with my alarm at 7:00 a.m. I’d been using a “sleep clock” app that a Buzzfeed listicle called a “college essential.” I’d read an array of similar posts to help me develop some sense of preparation for my first-ever undergraduate courses. The alarm ended up being helpful – it woke me up at seemingly the perfect time.
My parents and I had flown into Costa Rica for a family vacation the night before and spent the night in a hotel close to the airport. Today was the first of three stops of our trip: a bed and breakfast called Casa Rural — Aroma de Campo (Country House — Smell of the Land).
“Tiene hambre?” Are you hungry? I snapped back to reality after spacing out as I watched a group of four and five-year-olds jump rope. “Sí, claro,” I said offhandedly. Of course I was hungry, all I’d had for breakfast was pancito — bread, made cuter with a -cito tacked on the end — with strawberry jam. And it was nearly 1 p.m. Juan opened his camouflage lunch box and rummaged around for a moment before he found what he was looking for. He handed me a mango, first inspecting it to make sure the small dent in its skin hadn’t damaged the inside of the fruit. Suddenly, I felt the need to hold back tears.