The scene in my 10th-floor East Campus apartment was hardly unusual. It was Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, observed from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday every week. Some sported suits and dresses, the more casual wore button-downs and cardigans.
Since 2002, British street artist Banksy has charmed the public, enthralled the art world, and infuriated the police with his political spray paintings, stenciled onto sidewalks and museum walls alike.
Even on a Saturday afternoon some rooms at the Met remain sparsely populated and seemingly forgotten. Wandering accidentally into one of these overlooked alcoves, the first thing you notice is the dank smell that seems caked in the ancient carpeting and the even more ancient artworks.
Everyone knows the pain of their favorite TV show—be it Friends, 30 Rock, or Jersey Shore—going off the air. A greater pain, however, is that of a show going before its time, with no chance of closure through one last episode: that television show that got away.
By now, the Internet has seen a veritable shitstorm of praise and reproof directed toward letter-writer Susan Patton, Princeton alumna, former president of her class, mom of two exemplary Princeton boys—and now, in her most infamous role, catastrophic mother of imaginary Princeton girls, whom sh
Anyone who has ever been separated from their significant other can attest to feelings of loneliness, estrangement, and isolation.
Sunday evening, I sat down to watch the premiere of E!’s What Would Ryan Lochte Do?, a reality show detailing the everyday exploits of Olympian swimmer Ryan Lochte. After 30 cringe-worthy minutes, I stood up with a mixture of pity, schadenfreude, and bewilderment.