I like you just the way you are. For the past three years I may have made snide comments about your mustardy hue. But in light of recent events, I cannot help but appreciate you for what you are. Yellow – bright, possibly even incandescent, yellow.

The performance artist Marina Abramovic earns her living by cutting herself in public. Well, she does a little more than that… she once induced herself into a catatonic state by taking pills healthy people should not be taking.

Dear Egg Girl, I wonder how it feels to go down in infamy—well at least at Mount Holyoke—as the girl who left broken eggs on the kitchen floor and prompted Rene Davis to close all the Golden Pear kitchens. Did you have accomplices who “egged” you not to clean up after the accident? Did you [...]

Dear Sui, As my editor, you probably have come to expect all my submissions to reach your inbox right before midnight on Saturday. Hence, my apologies for this post-Sunday-brunch article. Most editors would be harassing their columnists to keep to their deadlines but you have miraculously restrained yourself from barging my door down and knocking [...]

Times are tough when anyone can become hip by following wikiHow directions that are simply a Google search away. Forever21 sells acid-washed jeans for 20 bucks, and perfectly androgynous plaid shirts can be found in the little boys section at Old Navy. Mainstream culture is quickly subsuming contemporary subculture, and new strategies need to be implemented—not just to differentiate real hipsters from the imposters but also to keep hipness alive.

Dear Swine Flu, You are really not that big of a deal. The fact that I found out I had you a week after leaving quarantine was anti-climactic to say the least. And looking back at my time in isolation, apart from the complete loss of appetite and lethargy, I have definitely been sicker.

Dear Mohos, Every year at convocation I have been gracing the yet to be acclimatized new students with my Seven Axioms of success at college. This speech, delivered annually, was met with much success and of late I have noticed even the faculty, staff and orientation boards unconsciously lip-syncing along.

I blame you for my lack of a social life. As a na’ve prospective student who grew up in a cosmopolitan city, the idea of studying in a quaint, little town in New England seemed rather charming. The website described Mount Holyoke as conveniently located near Boston.

I get it. Lab is hard. You spent the summer de-braining rats for some study that could potentially unlock the mysteries of the human mind. You are trying to get your research on the affects of diallyl trisulfide on androgen receptor expression published while doing a thesis on the inhibition of neoblast migration and cellular differentiation by nocodazole and colchicine.

Sometimes I assume that professors have no lives outside their areas of expertise. In my head, history professors went to museums for fun when they were in college and math professors did linear algebra while other children played in sand boxes. So when economics professor Fred Moseley said, “I didn’t take a single economics course during my undergraduate studies,” he might as well have said that the sky is hot pink.