Lifestyle

Hey, umm, what’s an Oil Thigh?

The Ghetto—The off-campus housing area populated mainly by students. With its overflowing garbage and run-down houses with hicknames like “The Booty Shack” and “The House of Cheese,” you’ll soon understand how the Ghetto got its name. But Homecomings on Aberdeen Street are unforgettable, and being so close to campus and downtown is a definite plus. Attempts to change its name to the Student Village were unsuccessful.Continue...

Moron! Put down that potato chip!

Since I graduated from the shallow end of last year’s double cohort, I’m closer in age to you than any other owl passing on his or her wisdom in this section.

Consequently, I’ve kept the preaching to a minimum. If you are not my age or older, you’re only a couple of months younger than a second-year student who still can’t drink legally. But I digress.

What follows are three suggestions from which you might actually benefit.Continue...

Choose your own “res” adventure

There’s a certain stigma attached to all-girls residences. I remember some of my floormates recounting, with horror, their discovery that they had been allocated to a single-sex dormitory. They figured they were in for a 1950s, G-Rated lifestyle.Continue...

Making sure Queen’s is for everyone

Queen’s. A snooty, white, rich university—old-money private school-lite.

It’s a familiar stereotype, but is it true that only people from certain cultural and socio-economic backgrounds are welcome here?

Arun Parkash, ArtSci ’05, doesn’t think so. He said he was disoriented when he first came to Queen’s from India to begin his economics degree, but felt welcome nonetheless.Continue...

How not to buy a $25 CD/coaster

The same thing happens every year.

Come September, students flock to the Campus Bookstore and leave with what seems like enough books to start a small library. But while carrying heavy books is hard on the arms, some students leave wishing their wallets weren’t so light.Continue...

Paying for a fancy piece of paper?

Your minimum registration payment is due August 15. A thousand bucks, and $3,500 if you live in residence. It’s a hefty sum, and it’s depressing to think that every year it covers a smaller and smaller fraction of what you’ll be shelling out for your eight months of mind expansion.Continue...

Let’s assess: frosh edition

Do I remember first year?

Vaguely.

Could I tell you the names of everyone on my residence floor?

Probably not.

Would I be able to recite the flavors of ice cream Ban Righ had to offer?

Most definitely.Continue...

So you wanna be on the radio, punk?

From juggling classes to avoiding scurvy, it’s pretty overwhelming being a frosh.Continue...

Issue in photos

View all images from vol. 132, issue 2.Continue...

Let's assess

I am a woman. I have breasts. I have curves. I also have cellulite.

Why is it that the latter is so undesirable? Dimples are cute on my face so why are they considered so appalling when they’re anywhere below my waist?Continue...

Canada needs a leader with a mustache

If you’re like me—and with a little luck, one day you will be— you’ve noticed a pronounced paradigm shift regarding the recent content of the literary institution we call “Postscript.” Well, actually I haven’t really noticed anything.Continue...

Issue in photos

View all images from vol. 132, issue 1.Continue...

Kingston cafes are passing the ’buck

Summer is rapidly approaching our fair city, and Kingstonian summers are luxuriant ones indeed—full of picnics by the lake, bike rides on Wolfe Island and most prominently, many hours of delicious idleness on patios and in cafes. Princess Street boasts an abundance of coffee shops, all of which fling their doors open wide to embrace the balmy breeze and wandering passers-by all summer long.Continue...

Last Words

For all the students who’ve ever had to walk into the Journal for the first time to talk to a reporter or place an ad, I offer my apologies. I remember the first time I ever stepped into 272 Earl Street. It took a lot of courage to even think about going inside, not knowing what lurked beyond.Continue...

Issue in photos

View all images from vol. 131, issue 40.Continue...

mercy 50

I wrote a column a while ago predicting this year’s AMS election was going to be an uninteresting, indifferent affair. I based my prediction on what I’ve seen at this school over the last three years.

That was before the elections actually took place. The nastiness that marked that entire miserable three weeks made my predictions look downright tame by comparison—that was before my colleagues and myself spent 36 straight hours at the Journal covering one of the dirtiest election campaigns I’ve ever seen.Continue...

Education on my terms—moving to the Azores

Only two years through my university degree, I have known for the last three months that I am not coming back for a third. Seven friends and I are moving to the island of Faial to run a self-sustainable farm.Continue...

Issue in photos

View all images from vol. 131, issue 39.Continue...

Housing horrors

Sometime around July 25 last summer, I started wishing I’d paid more attention to the housing information plastered all over residence in first year.

I’d come to Kingston for a Journal production weekend expecting to knock back a few pints by night and churn out a few pages of layout by day, with enough time in between for some quality sleep. I didn’t plan to get out of the sleeping bag I’d laid out in my housemate’s room—mine was still under renovation—until at least 9:30 a.m. on Saturday.Continue...

Tips for surviving the not-so-spectacular summer job

Over the course of three summers, we have each had some “interesting” jobs to occupy our time for the four months between spring exams and the fall semester. You see, unlike some Queen’s students, we don’t have connections. None of our summer jobs have involved working for the UN somewhere in the Third World or at Daddy’s firm on Bay Street.Continue...

Pages