In the 1980s, health-conscious North Americans would start their days with grapefruit and cottage cheese with black coffee, tossing their permed hair and turning a cold —and often padded—shoulder to foods not hyped as miracle fat-burners.Continue...
I have something to admit, and I’m prepared to lose all my credibility as a writer, music-lover and human being as a consequence. I love Canadian Idol, and now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with my life.Continue...
You’ve got the shakes. You’re sweating and you can feel your eyeballs bulging out of your head. Your 2,000-word Chaucer essay is due in two hours, and yet it sits untouched on your desktop. Meanwhile, your finger twitches on the mouse and you hit “Reload” on your Livejournal friends page once more. Your screen fills with pleasures both wonderful and horrible: pictures and rambling entries unfold before your eyes, penned by both friends and weird people you’ve never even met.Continue...
In the hands of Marcel Duchamp, a bicycle wheel, snow shovel and urinal became famous.
The French artist invented the idea of the “readymade:” taking an everyday object and, with few or no modifications, presenting it as a new artistic discovery.Continue...
Next time you decide to clean your drawers of forgotten love letters, mix tapes, or old birthday cards, be aware that your scraps may find their way into the hands of a found art enthusiast.Continue...
We have all grown familiar with The Cocamo during our brief time at Queen’s, and indeed, some of us have even made our peace with it.
Being not the biggest fan of rubbing/grinding/wiping my sweat onto unfamiliar and under-clothed people, I had not been to Kingston’s premier ballroom for dancing purposes since first year.Continue...
When you get to Queen’s, you’ll be oriented to death on campus, but if you’ve never been to Kingston before, you still have to make sense of the rest of the town. Here’s a partial list of where to go for food and fun.Continue...
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...
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...
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...
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...
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...
