Lifestyle Archive: 2004

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...

Hot town, summer in the Ghetto

One of the best summers I’ve ever had was the summer between my first and second year here at Queen’s. My friends and I had just moved out of residence and into a house on William Street that has so few right angles, it seems like something straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. The house looks like it has no place in reality. I’ve always liked that.Continue...

‘I will be lucky if I can get a temp job’

Four years ago, I remember sitting beside my father, dread twisting in my stomach, as we drove into Kingston on a warm fall day. In one month, that life will be packed up, put in a van and moved back to Toronto. The clothes will be picked up off the floor and from the hangers, the posters and photographs taken down, the printer and computer unplugged and packed into their old cases.Continue...

Bitten by the travel bug

Been reading Jack Kerouac? Envisioning dusty roads and foreign airports? Dreaming of jumbles of taxis and unheard languages spoken aloud?

If you can scrape up the nerve, and the funds, travelling abroad can be a rewarding experience. After travelling solo through Asia, Europe and South America, here are the very valuable lessons I wish I had known before stepping on a plane.Continue...

Get out of here!

Two years ago, after my second year at Queen’s, I was forced to take a year off because of my poor academic performance.

When I first got the notice in the mail, a chill went up my spine. What would I do away from school for a year? What would I miss while away? I experienced a kind of agoraphobia—not a fear of wide open spaces, but of possibilities.Continue...

Life After April

What happens after you graduate? The Journal explores the reflections and experiences of students after university.Continue...

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