So last week, the sustainability stewards (Natasha Rooney, and I), in conjunction with Bon Appetit, (the cafeteria's caterers), organised a sustainability cook-off. I took pictures. Here is a slideshow.
This gigantic map is the latest addition to my dorm room. But I didn’t cram it in over my bed just for kicks—it’s part of a class that I’m taking in preparation for a trip to London this January.
The class is officially titled “IND-307.1 London: Art/History/Literature.” It has 14 students (13 of whom are female), three professors, and one faculty member who’s surveying the course in preparation for his own trip to the UK.
Hayman is generally known to be a little bit louder than the other dorms, and I have to say, I wouldn't have it any other way. Something is always going on, whether it is a study party, a game of Ultimate Spoons, a Nerf War, movie night, Assassins, or just a small-scale dance party. For those of you who have never had the chance to experience it firsthand, I've filmed a typical Sunday night. Here is a little taste of life in Hayman:
Everyone here on campus is starting to get into the swing of things now that we've entered our third week of classes. It's been long enough now that pretty much everyone has some sort of routine established, even if that routine is hitting the snooze button five times or so before finally sleepwalking into their 8 a.m. class. That said, those routines can oftentimes be thrown into flux by some choice homework assignments. Let's face it--there are some essays that demand nothing less than a solid commitment of several hours if you really want an A.
We all know the feeling (at least I hope I'm not the only one). We all know the feeling one gets when one thing is suddenly sending the world off its axis. Days happen when we put our shoes on before our pants. Days happen when we sleep through four alarms. Days happen when we nod off in every single class. These. Days. Just. Happen.
Today, I walked out of Hayman to get some lunch, and saw that the sidewalk was wet like it usually is when the sprinklers have just been on. Because of all the recent smoke, I didn’t think twice about the gray sky. But I noticed something was different about today. Unlike when the sprinklers are on, EVERYTHING was wet: Real. Life. Rain. Wet grass, and the unmistakable fragrance of the first rain in a long time.
I like to think that I’m a fairly hard-working person. However, I have one weakness. I don’t always like to cook. Don’t get me wrong: I cook a mean omelet when cornered. But sometimes I just have days when I just don't want to cook. This has certainly burgeoned my relationship with all of our lovely Bon Appetit staff. As a senior, I don’t spend as much time in Simplot as your average freshman, but McCain has been one of my favorite bases since my freshman year. I’ve really come to value the communal experience that simply eating offers here at the college.
Campus Greek life is in full swing—the three national sororities are having formal recruitment this week, and two of the three fraternities are having their rush. For the sororities, formal recruitment spells out evenings spent hosting events to become better acquainted with girls interested in joining, and intended to let those interested girls find their best fit.
With the first week down and classes in full swing, I could feel the pressure starting pile up on me. I have learnt to deal with stress quite well during my time here, and one of the best ways to deal with stress is to simply get away. I was lucky enough to have a weekend off soccer just when the Outdoor Program decided to hold a backpacking trip to Stanley, Idaho. Having never seen the Sawtooths, I signed up straight away. We left Friday night after class and backpacked until Sunday morning.
While I was still a senior in high school comparing various colleges and what they had to offer, one of the lowest priorities on my list was finding a campus with a thriving Greek Life. I never saw myself joining a fraternity, ever. I identified more with Lewis and Gilbert from Revenge of the Nerds than I did with Bluto and Otter in National Lampoon's Animal House, two films which colored my expectations of Greeks before I ever actually met one. That sort of fraternity life was hardly a good reason to look into an institution of higher education.