Jan. 20, 2016—It’s that time of year again–the temperatures are dropping, the squirrels have ballooned to nearly comical levels of chubby, and the University is sending out its email about the dangers of hypothermia on an open campus. Yes, folks, it’s officially–drumroll, please–Nashville Winter! Now, listen. I’m from Jackson, Mississippi. We don’t do “winter” in the prototypical...
Dec. 18, 2015—And yes, those are my mechanism-covered whiteboards. I’m very proud of them. They helped me get a good grade in Orgo this semester, although I think they’re less Beautiful Mind and more like that scene in 21 Jump Street where Channing Tatum draws 4s all over the board in his Chemistry class
Dec. 13, 2015—Ah, finals. A season during which you can catch the college student in their most natural state (which, for me, is wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that’s four sizes too big, hair unwashed, sitting curled up in a coffee shop somewhere as if my appearance is at all socially acceptable and frantically copying notes).
Dec. 7, 2015—One of my favorite things about Vanderbilt (other than, like, eight million other things—including, but not limited to, Grins Nutella paninis, really fat squirrels, and the fact that I’m currently wearing Nike shorts in December) is that we get a full week off for Thanksgiving break. This break comes just about two weeks before finals,...
Nov. 2, 2015—We loaded up a few cars on Sunday morning and drove the forty-five minutes to Honeysuckle Hill Farm, a popular spot for family outings and pumpkin-spice fueled photoshoots as we reveled in the very Insta-worthy backdrops of corn mazes, sunflowers, and the beautiful rolling hills of Middle Tennessee.
Oct. 8, 2015—“I can’t tonight, I have a long run tomorrow.” Since this semester started, pretty much everyone I ever hang out with has gotten the above sentence in response to a suggestion to do something fun and exciting and non-sweaty on Friday nights. “Booooo-riiiiing,” they cry. “Do less,” they snort, with an understandable amount of derision at the prospect of me choosing to forgo a party just to wheeze and chafe my way through a three-hour cross-country slog at 7am.
Oct. 7, 2015—Hi. My name is Lee, and I’m a compulsive to-do list maker with a schedule that barely gives me time to eat sitting down. (Cue soft chorus of “hi, Lee”s from the assembled crowd, Styrofoam cups of instant coffee with non-dairy creamer teetering on their knees.)