So, I just saw “Star Trek” on IMAX for the first time. Chills. I’ve seen a total of maybe three episodes of the show over my lifetime so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was literally on the edge of my seat the whole time.
A UC Irvine sweatshirt has many functions. Besides providing warmth, coziness and a chance to display your Anteater pride, it can be a very handy solution for weeks of laundry procrastination. Moreover, your college sweatshirt is one of the key ingredients in the quadruple-decker cake that is your university experience. So what happens when that key ingredient is tainted?
If you’re anything like me, you were probably severely annoyed by the introduction of this new-fangled time-waster called “Twitter.”
If there’s one part of UC Irvine that makes me feel particularly spoiled, it’s the Anteater Recreation Center (ARC). Not only does its recent remodel boast a brand-new weight room and equipment, but only at the ARC can you go swimming, get a massage, take a cooking class and climb a rock wall in the same afternoon. It’s the nicest college athletics facility I’ve ever been to, and in my opinion even surpasses expensive private fitness clubs like Newport Beach’s Equinox or the ritzy 24-Hour Fitness Ultra Sport.
Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: OK guys, prepare yourselves. I have a confession to make. I’ve been keeping it a secret long enough and I think it’s time for me to come clean: I didn’t watch this year’s Academy Awards.
Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: I was at a party in Los Angeles the other weekend and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation that some former contestants of Project Runway were having with each other. Speaking of “Revolutionary Road” this and “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” that, they predicted which movie was going to win the phallic “this little man means I’m better than you” statue and which actress was going to cry or not cry when she accepted her award.
Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: …the thing that I remember most about being in first grade was that holidays were made into ridiculously big ordeals. I have spent hours with those fluorescent, rinky-dink ultra-safe scissors cutting out snowmen, jack-o-lanterns, four-leaf clovers and let’s not forget the most paper-heavy holiday of them all: Valentine’s Day.
At 4:10 a.m. on Jan. 20, the second metro headed for Washington, D.C. from a Virginia suburb is nearly packed. In the last hour before dawn, the frigid air bites through the heavily bundled passengers, even inside the train. The people don’t seem to mind the cold as they whisper excitedly to each other. Though no definite words can be made out, it is as though the collective murmurings of the passengers form the name that is on everyone’s mind, the name of a man “whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant.”
Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: Audrina from “The Hills” is smiling her fake, toothy smile on the red carpet as the paparazzi cameras flash and click like machine guns. It’s still difficult for me to wrap my head around the name “Audrina,” which sounds like the unfortunate union of the names Christina and Audrey. I suppose it’s better than the alternative, “Chrudrey.”
Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: Suddenly, the professor is taking roll in my 100-person lecture class and teaching assistants are taking it again in my 40-person discussion section. I’m told that if I am counted absent in more than a certain number of lectures and discussions, I will fail the class completely. But by the time roll is finally taken and class actually starts, we are 10, sometimes 20, minutes into the allotted class time. Far be it from me not to admit that some days, I couldn’t ask for more than a shorter lecture. But in the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel a bit cheated.