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!”
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.
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.
What’s black and white and has monsters all over? Well, that’s how most of Nick Felaris’s drawings can be described. “I can’t stop drawing monsters,” Felaris admitted.
The pottery wheels hum softly as nine students bend over their work, hands gently wrapped around the spinning cups and bowls. Bright sunlight blazes in from the almost-full-length windows spread across two walls of the room, illuminating the space and the students’ faces.
This year, the Oxford Police Department participated in its third annual No-Shave November fundraiser. Each year, the entire force is allowed to voluntarily grow out their facial hair if they donate to the local charity the force chooses.
Spending her childhood forging her musical talents, Rebecca Andres eventually found herself playing for Cincinnati Broadway Across America’s "Wicked." In the 96 performances that followed, Andres further fine-tuned her flute skills. Andres found her passion for music in the fourth grade. She comes from a family of musicians — many of her relatives play piano and her sister plays the violin. Andres tried to play the violin, too, but found that it wasn’t a good fit.
As the leaves swirled down from the trees outside of Armstrong on Friday, Nov. 15, Miami’s Muslim Students’ Association (MSA) swirled ornate designs onto the arms of students who stopped at their booth. Adjacent to a card table covered with various canned foods like Campbell’s soup and JIF peanut butter is another table occupied by a student practicing an ancient art form: henna.
Sophomore Owen Dame balances classes, clubs and running his own company. Six weeks ago, the entrepreneurship and economics major launched Warm Heart Clothing Co., a business that sells affordable clothing and donates 15 percent of the profits to various charities.
Ten weeks ago, many of these students would not have known the difference between a rock step and a half box. But in KNH 110S/T: Social Dance, learning these basics and more is the first step toward becoming a more experienced dancer.
Stage Left’s production of “Pippin!” was absolutely worth that exclamation point. Miami University's only student-run musical theatre organization brought their characteristic enthusiasm to a performance equal parts amusing and disconcerting.
Although most Miamians were still snuggled in their beds early Sunday morning, members of the Kappa Alpha Theta (Theta) sorority were up and about, motivated by the beginning of the second annual Color Run.
Armstrong Pavilion is a large room, but last Saturday it felt small as people of all different backgrounds came together as one to celebrate the Korean holiday “Chuseok.” This holiday, which is typically celebrated in September, is a Korean Thanksgiving, with the purpose being to gather with family and share stories and food.
Atifete Jahjaga, former Republic of Kosovo president, described her career path in male-dominated, post-war fields that led to her 2011-2016 presidency in a talk on Monday, Nov. 4. Before delving into those topics, however, she began by thanking her audience and asking Miami students and faculty to visit Kosovo.