Rules for one is a bimonthly lifestyles column that investigates how to be successfully single. You know things aren’t going to be very promising when the guy buying you a
My first memories of Harry Potter take me back to a trailer classroom in the fourth grade. Before I knew it, I had become one of millions of people in the world who were in love with the series.
Two weeks into summer quarter, a new student's class has a change of venue, a change of professor and a complete change of syllabus.
When asked which college I have chosen to complete my undergraduate degree, I pridefully respond that, “I’m a student at SCAD.” The inquirer usually excitedly asks if I can draw
It all started with the last presidential election. Toward the end of the fall of 2007, I was a lowly freshman, still trying to get to know my way around
I haven’t read the classics, nor am I an avid reader. I once overheard a fellow writing student talk about books the way I would talk about clothes. I began to worry that my nonexistent love of literature meant I was in the wrong major.
I wish I could take part in the celebration, but I can’t. That’s not to say that I’m not relieved to know that bin Laden is dead — I am. But it’s difficult to fathom that it’s taken 10 years to accomplish this mission, and at least half a dozen others, that have cost American lives, money and respect.
Even in this world of lackadaisical education and 140-character texting, there’s a little-known club of people who secretly call themselves grammarians. I don’t pretend to be one of them. In
Are SCAD students guilty of too much complaining?
I have been struggling with the concept of religion since I was old enough to know what religion was. I was sitting in the pews of my hometown church, surrounded