Help, I’ve been trapped in Morton 324 for the last three years! Just kidding, but not really. As a Quantitative Social Science major there has not been a single semester where I haven’t sat in this small seminar room, peering out the windows at Kidde on the other side of the lawn.
Posts published in “Senioritis”
Senioritis is an Opinion column written by one or two Stevens student(s) in their last year of study to discuss life experiences during their final year at Stevens, and other related subject matter.
I found my old favorite perfume the other day. It was packed between my jewelry box and curly hair products while I was moving in for my senior year.
I feel like I was supposed to graduate last year. No, seriously, I am probably the first person to ever enter senior year feeling fulfilled enough.
There’s officially less than a month until graduation, and the days have been slipping through my fingers. My bulletproof defense to any hangout pushback I receive from my friends is, “It’s senior year.”
Like many of us, I grew up in a heteronormative world. My childhood was shaped by a loving family and a large public school, but it was a place where “normal” meant having a mom and a dad, boys with girlfriends, and cream-colored khakis — certainly not the pink chinos I preferred.
I basically live out of my Google Calendar when I am at school. I’ve got classes, meetings, appointments, assignments, hangouts, exams, presentations, reminders to submit Workday hours, practices, and GBMs galore, all neatly organized into one place.
When was the last time you played? Take a moment and think about how you played when you were a child.
I’ve completed the vast majority of my degree with my friend Thomas sitting next to me. There are many things I admire about him, but what sticks out to me the most is his level-headed nature and remarkable ability to bring people together.
As we enter the love-filled time of year, we often sit and reflect on our relationships with our romantic partners. This Valentine’s Day, if you have a special someone, you might be taking them out to a nice restaurant, spending a homey night in, or trying something new.
Yesterday, I experienced the joy of making it to Gobbler’s Knob to witness Punxsutawney Phil’s prognostication of the meteorological happenings for the next six weeks.