I always loved the French language. Its melodic rhythms and complicated verb connotations excited me.

I was distraught when French AP was canceled my senior year of high school due to lack of student interest, but I consoled myself with the thought that college French would be better anyway.

I purposely refused to study for the placement exam, thinking that the early French classes would be enriching refresher courses. I looked forward to study-abroad and a possible French minor.

Penn ruined French for me before class even started.

French 121 met every day, dashing my hopes for a class-free Friday and complicating my already daunting schedule. I suffered through the mind-numbing workbook assignments and ludicrous class activities of the entry-level course.

For my final project, I spent hours upon hours struggling to make a travel slideshow that did little to teach me the language but much to create within me an intense abhorrence of the iMovie program. I eagerly awaited the more advanced French 130. I had high hopes.

These hopes were dashed almost instantaneously when it was announced that throughout the semester we would be acting as characters living in an apartment building.

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The day after Penn fell to Drexel by two, it seems like we could all use a feel good, Rudy-esque basketball story. Penn, meet 73 year old Ken Mink: he is your Rudy.

Kind of.

Standing an even six feet and weighing in at 190 pounds, Mr. Mink might just be the septuagenarian maverick we’ve heard so much about.  Kicked off of his own college team (Lees College, if you’re wondering) for an incident involving either the use of shaving cream or soap (sources disagree) to vandalize his coach’s office, Mink has taken to the courts again to finish out his college career.

I would like to pause here and note that unless that shaving cream or soap was anthrax-laden, and “coach’s office” really means some kind of federal agency, dismissal from the team seems a little harsh.  Just sayin’.

Anyway, at 73 he’s looking for closure to that fateful season 53 years ago, and with a spot on the Roane State Junior College team, he’s put himself in a position to get it.

That’s all well and good, but the man is 73.

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The new treasurer of Grafton County, N.H.

Walking around campus, it’s pretty obvious that some of our classmates have already started their presidential campaigns. At Dartmouth, somebody’s already won their first election.

No, not for UA or SAC rep.

Vanessa Sievers, a Dartmouth junior, has just won the race for treasurer of Grafton County, New Hampshire, the county which includes Dartmouth. Sievers, lambasted as a “teenybopper” by her opponent, won by less than 1.5%. (And even cooler, she made the national news!)

The outgoing Republican incumbent treasurer is the kind of lady who likes to rant about “brainwashed college kids,” but is Sievers really qualified to invest and oversee Grafton County’s $18 million in assets?

She has been an active member of the Dartmouth College Democrats (She’s got sooooo many hits on the campus newspaper’s website.). And she has managed her family’s finances. And, of course, she is a geography major. So maybe this is change we can believe in.

Yet, then again, maybe people at Dartmouth are unhappy about this. In my mind, a college student has no business representing the townspeople and should not have run for this position.

Despite what I see as resume-padding and over-achieving, Sievers has a point that we could perhaps learn from: “I’ve always believed that being involved in local government is part of your responsibility as a citizen and is a way to get involved in your community.” Of course, she could have volunteered at a soup kitchen instead of running for treasurer.

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For all those with upcoming 21st birthdays: make sure your homework is done before you go out.

You don’t want to end up like Harvard student Carlo Garcia and get arrested.

During the first few hours of his 21st birthday, Garcia broke into the rooms of two of his female classmates. He went into their bedrooms, sat on their beds and asked them questions about their Principles of Economics problem set.

He stole one student’s homework, then went on to another student’s room and proceeded to lay down on her while she was sleeping. The student got up and forced Garcia out of her room, after which he was arrested.

There is a lesson for all of us in this story.

First, Harvard is full of crazies who work too hard and when attempting to finally get loose, end up going to the extreme. Second, don’t go out if you have work left to do then decide break into a classmate’s room and steal their problem set so you’ll have something to turn in.

But I probably don’t have to tell any Penn students that. We just break into each other’s rooms to steal electronics.

What the hell is Saxby’s?

I used to have great lighting. Great space. Big comfy chairs. Luxurious couches. Good coffee.

Now, I’m sitting here holding an ugly, maroon, paper cup. It jeers at me with its mediocre contents. My ears are bleeding from the elevator music dribbling out of the speakers overhead. I hum to myself for comfort, borrowing Paula Cole and inserting where have all the good songs goooooonnnnneeee?

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Image via Wikipedia

As a Canadian with mostly American friends attending school in the United States, it is quite natural, and even expected, that I would be the butt of many Canada jokes.

At this point, after three and a half years at Penn, I’ve come to accept it as an almost-daily phenomenon that occurs due to widespread ignorance among Americans about their neighbors up North.

But then again, some things remind me that we Canadians may bring it onto ourselves.

For example, today I was browsing through the Canadian Army website (yes, we do have an army, and we are actively fighting in Afghanistan), and started clicking around to find the eligibility requirements for joining the forces. (Don’t worry Mom, I’m just curious.)

What I found was quite amusing, especially when comparing the differences between the eligibility requirements of the Canadian army and the US Army.

Pre-enrollment for the Canadian army requires each candidate to pass two examinations. The first part is physical fitness. The Canadian physical test consists of, among other things, push-ups, sit-ups, and chin-ups, and the minimum repetitions for each physical activity for men under 35 are 19, 19, and 6, respectively.

Compare this to the US, where the minimum is 30-35 for push-ups and the mid-40 range for sit-ups (chin-ups not required for the US Army). Even I, a self-proclaimed skinny Ivy-League blogger, could meet the Canadian minimums (I tried for the purposes of this post).

It is when comparing the two countries’ aptitude tests, however, where the differences become clear.

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Courtesy of Joshua Sherurcij via Wikipedia

Imagine a condom dispenser on Locust Walk. Picture a vending machine selling Coca-Cola and Trojans in Huntsman.

That’s exactly what the City of Madrid has proposed to do: install machines that vend condoms in some of the most popular metro stations in the city. Brown has installed similar machines on its campus as well.

So why is Penn so behind on the game?

With such a big campus, touting a supposed “work hard, play hard” mentality, promoting sexual health should be on the list of the administration’s to-do list.

Buying condoms is a delicate matter. And snide remarks from the cashiers at the Fresh Grocer are not conducive to students going out of their way to purchase safe-sex materials.

Free condoms from RA doors are, indeed, free, but that supply runs out quickly. Getting them at Student Health or a store involves time, effort, and money, a daunting troika that many students probably do not overcome.

Few things would encourage students to use protection more than the idea that the condom machine is just down a flight of stairs.

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The Lambda Sigma Phi fraternity was founded in 2001 at the University of Alabama in the hope of showing “other groups at the university what Jesus is all about.”

Disciples.

Same story with the Alpha Delta Chi sorority. Its 13 membership requirements include “personal acceptance of Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord,” an “interest in leading others to Christ” and a “willingness to abstain from alcohol in circumstances where the Christian witness would be adversely affected.”

I would venture a guess that the Christian witness is adversely affected by jell-o shots, keg stands, and beer pong.

According to Jay Reeves’ article for the Associated Press, “members [of Lambda Sigma Phi] get pumped up about prayer, Bible study and service projects, passions they say campus officials should and often do embrace as fresh amid a Greek culture typically seen as centered on hazing, keg parties and little else.”

Something about this makes me cringe.

Wait, no, everything about this makes me cringe. Perhaps its the Animal House image of Greek life that’s burned into my brain, or Penn’s own quasi-sacrilegious Greek scene, but does Jesus really belong in a frat house? Read the rest of this entry »

Philadelphia Italian Market @ 9th and Washington

I always say that one of the reasons I love going to school in Philadelphia is because the food here is so good.

There is hardly a restaurant downtown that I don’t enjoy (unless it’s La Viola West three times in two weeks). But when it comes to food on campus, there is something left to be desired.

Though my friends at more isolated schools will call me “sustenance-spoiled,” I don’t care. Because it’s true: I’m sick of the menu at Greek Lady, tired of the sluggish service at Marathon, and can’t bring myself to eat Qdoba more than once a week.

Izzy and Zoe’s has fallen to a level so far below acceptable that I try to forget it exists.

Even though Gia and Metro add some quality to the overall food options on Penn’s campus, we have a serious dearth of selection when hunger strikes… and it strikes a lot, considering that thousands of people in the Penn community eat three times a day.

Fed up with my options (and not willing to wait more than an hour to order something online from campusfood.com or 20 minutes physically in line for Magic Carpet in 40 degree weather), I finally mustered up the energy and ambition to do the unthinkable: cook. In someone else’s kitchen, obviously.

It. Was. Delish.

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Making a statement, whether it be artistic or political, is a tricky thing.

In many ways, the key to a good statement is balance, finding a middle ground between polar extremes. Not too subtle but not too condescending. Loud enough to get the central message across but with enough restraint to not overpower that message.

Some statements have worked. Others have failed miserably. Last week the Penn Environmental Group attempted to make a statement. This picture perfectly sums up my assessment.

I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this is what the PEG wanted me to think:
“Wow! Look at that pile of trash that I’ve carelessly contributed to! Half of the items in there could have been recycled! I sure waste a lot of resources! From now on, I’m going to recycle!”

But here is what I actually thought:
“Wow. Look at that pile of trash. It smells horrible, and it’s a severe health hazard. It has also ruined my day. Once I find out which Penn organization was responsible for dumping it on Locust Walk, I’m going to make fun of them in my next blog post.”

The whole spectacle reminded me of the animal rights activists who throw blood on people that wear fur coats. Doing that doesn’t make people want to stop wearing clothes made from dead animals. It just makes them want to punch the psycho in the face for ruining their new coat.

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