T-Swift.  You may have heard that Taylor Swift was here on campus this past weekend watching her little brother Austin in the fantastic play Six Characters in Search of an Author.  Actually, you were probably one of those people who only went to see the show because you heard Taylor was going to be there.  And you probably screamed like a little girl when you saw her and took a selfie with the back of her head.  We love you, Taylor—we even forgive you for taking your music off Spotify.

Stress-Free Saturdays.  You know the class that you were determined to get an A in?  It starts off really well.  Then you bomb that midterm that you’re convinced you actually aced and your professor scored unfairly.  You still have a chance to get an A, but only if you don’t fail anything else … then you do.  Really, really badly.  But from then on you realize that you don’t have a chance, so you might as well stop stressing about it.  I mean, you still show up for the last three tests … how bad could Northwestern, Louisville, and USC be anyway?

Flex Points.  Don’t cry because it’s over.  Smile because it happened.




The game-that-must-not-be-named.  This game, like Voldemort, is only spoken of by the strong of heart and mind.  The rest of us resort to euphemisms and hushed conversations in the shadows, trying to forget the horror that once was and that we pray will never return.

Sleep Cycles.  My advisor asked me how much I sleep.  I lied and told him 6 hours a night because I wanted to sound like a normally functioning human being.  He told me that wasn’t nearly enough.  If he only knew how over the limit my blood-caffeine level is right now…

Critical Review.  For those of you who saw or performed in ND’s recent Six Characters in Search of an Author, here is the scathing review you feared from your favorite Irish Rover: It was scandalously good, and jeers to all who didn’t go see it.


Meadow Jackson is a sophomore in Pasquerilla West.  If you have any cheers or jeers you might want to see in her column, email her at  No one actually ever does this, so seriously people, somebody email her.  It would make her day (and by her I mean me, cause I’m actually the one writing about myself in the third person). Stay classy, my friends.