#Picks
Kappa Kappa Gamma ‘07
Years of rush: 3 years
Do: I have a love/hate relationship with rush. During the second round my senior year, the last party of the night, I bumped this PNM who seemed really cool. I could tell that she thought the whole process was equally as ridiculous, so I liked her immediately. Then she suggested that we sit in silence and eat Swedish Fish instead of talking nonsense. She’s now in Kappa. (Note: a bold move, but not really recommended).
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(Asian-)American Beauty
Last Saturday, I had the kind of opportunity that rarely presents itself to a Midwestern white girl: I was at the Sheraton Hotel on the Chicago River, at the local Chinatown Chamber of Commerce’s 2010 Miss Friendship Ambassador Pageant, an annual opportunity to show off the best-bred among the city’s more status-conscious Chinese-American community. And I was a minority. At some point during the show, I looked around at the people speaking in Mandarin or Cantonese. I was at least half-a-foot taller than nearly every woman there. I wasn’t just white. I looked like a giant, white ogre. more
Young Folks: Part 8
Elena Aleksandrova
I had been toying with the idea of Recruitment for a while. Let’s be real here. Besides Holly, Michael, and Greg, I had no friends.
“I need lady friends,” I state diplomatically at Sunday brunch. And so I explain in the only way I can: I rip open my sweater to reveal the official periwinkle Panhellenic Rush shirt. more
Kanye West
Hails from: Oak Lawn, IL
Last performance at NU: 2005
Upcoming show: West canceled his high-profile “Fame Kills” tour with Lady Gaga, which included a January performance at the United Center.
Best song: “Through the Wire” – West’s first breakout single, the track exemplifies his R&B-samples-on-helium and funky breaks style, and introduced us to the generally uninspired, wooden delivery that we’ve come to know so well. more 
A small Devil’s Food chocolate cake lined with strawberries is cut up and distributed on napkins. The room is bare, stripped of all furniture except a thick rug in the center patterned with flowers and an overturned plastic basin in the corner. On top of the rug is a paper plate smeared with a chunk of brie beside a knife, surrounded by a loose circle of plastic wine glasses and paper cups filled with cheap Bourdeaux. A chorus of “Happy Birthday” is sung for the apartment’s new resident, Stephen Rettger, who has just turned 22, which means he’s three years away from being able to rent a car; then he’ll really be an adult.
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Rick’s parents left for the weekend, and his friends will be arriving in an hour for the party he’s throwing in this ranch-style home in a rural Midwestern town. Nearly everything’s in place, except for one thing: the alcohol hasn’t arrived yet. At this point, Rick is panicking. In this town, underage drinkers rely on older friends to buy the alcohol. But Rick’s go-to buyer just called, and he can’t come to the party.
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we can’t tell anyone about this | Junior Year, Part Two
Where am I? I thought, alarmed. I tried to sit up but the heavy fog in my head slowed me down. I was naked, in a second-floor bedroom off-campus, in bed with—shit!—the guy my friend liked, had been hooking up with… Were they still together?
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Young Folks: Part 4
Illustration by Elena Aleksandrova
Tonight is Mexican-American Appreciation Night in the dining halls. Life seems to be on the upswing.
“¡Hóla, señorita!” Quentin has traded his chef’s hat with a sombrero. Instead of omelets, he flips cheese quesadillas.
“Hóla, Quentin,” I giggle, passing his station. The manifestations of Mexican-American culture extend to a bowl of Ruffles and salsa on each table. In a bout of political correctness, Sargent plays Shakira’s debut album, “Laundry Service.”
“Is Shakira even Mexican?” Holly asks, plopping down her tray.
“Who cares?” I sigh as I cut my arroz con carne. “Have you seen the music video for She Wolf? Holy fuck.”
Suddenly, some guy sits at our table. I don’t know about the other dining halls, but in Sargent, this is unheard of. Save that shit for Willard. You don’t join a round table unless you know the company. And if you come alone, well then grab a copy of the Daily and sit in the corner.
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4 Years, 4 Encounters : Part 1
HE WAS HUNGRY. WAS I? | FRESHMAN YEAR
It was nearing the end of new student week and I still couldn’t get NUTV to play on my computer. That week was sweltering and I was perpetually hungover and starving; I was sure I wouldn’t survive freshman year without Grey’s Anatomy and the final season of the O.C.
I called NUIT, gave them my NetID, explained my problem, and waited. He found me in my room in the McCulloch Virgin Vault a few hours later. At least six feet tall, with blond hair and strong, chiseled cheekbones, he was cute—much cuter than the other NUIT guys roaming the hallways. We chatted while he changed settings and deleted spyware on my computer. He was two years older, in Chi Psi, and a mechanical engineer. He could fix my broken Urban Outfitters alarm clock if I wanted, and he liked the Semisonic playing on my iTunes. And he was hungry—was I?
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On one of the first days of New Student Week, Cody Kittle stationed himself outside the Arch with his latest project in hand: the 2009-2010 edition of the “Purple Book,” a sort of Zagat guide to on-campus life. After four hours of sales, the director of Wildcat Welcome, Elizabeth Block, drove up in a golf cart, and, according to Kittle, tried to shut down the operation on the grounds that the “Purple Book” purveyors didn’t have a permit—despite the fact that police officers had been passing by all afternoon, without a word.
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