If you give a ginger a Guinness, she’s going to want Lucky Charms. If you give a ginger Lucky Charms, she’s going to want a four-leaf clover—the list continues with all the Irish nosh and haberdashery that I believe I should be showered with this St. Patrick’s Day.
February may be over, but its presence lingers like the smell of sweet chocolate-covered strawberries. February is the month of love and also the month of delusion. It’s the month of silly campus activities like the Marriage Pact that might mean something, the betrayal of checking someone’s story only to find out they’re not single, and the pink and red haze that all leave a bittersweet funk that lingers into March.
I think we are the first generation where sex is less awkward to talk about than dating. In order to not further risk my chances of getting into heaven, I’ll be talking about the latter—I’m told BC priests read these articles every now and then. Strap in! In case you didn’t know, Merriam-Webster defines date as “the brown, oblong edible fruit of a palm (Phoenix dactylifera).”
As a kid, being called a “copycat” felt like the most hurtful insult I could receive. Well-meaning adults would attempt to offer consolation, saying “Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” but this adage was no match for my crushed 10-year-old ego.
So how can love span both mutual and unreciprocated feelings, encompass romance and platonism, and be both given and felt? By using the word in such a variety of ways, we are simultaneously overgeneralizing and severely restricting love in our language.
A scheme is a secret, systematic plan developed over an extended timeframe, aiming to create joy for others. It culminates in one giant “reveal” moment.
The Ode of Remembrance is a verse I have committed to memory since I was at least 6 years old. And as I sit and write this, mere moments from the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, it is echoing in my mind.
The value of painful emotions is twofold. First, they serve as a signal of your deeper character—for example, sadness might be a signal that you are compassionate. Second, painful emotions are a call to action.
Although I can hardly believe it, I—like nearly 2,500 other Boston College students—am nearing the end of my freshman year.
In a world where working yourself to exhaustion is respected as part of “the grind,” it is important to create moments of peace.
