Dear Diary,
I am a very simple person. I have routines and I usually stick by them. I make plans and when everything goes right, I’m happy. One plan that I made when I got to Wesleyan was to find the perfect study spot. I spent weeks trying out new spots, but none of them felt right. Exley’s lobby was too loud, Pi Cafe just made me want to buy another coffee every ten minutes, and Sci Li made me feel like an imposter when I wasn’t working on anything STEM related. After a few weeks, I found myself to be an Olin girl.
Choosing Olin as my study space didn’t mean I was finished. Olin has so many desk shapes, sizes, and locations, and I had to make sure I chose the right one. It wasn’t until finals week that I found my spot. The lighting is perfect, the view out the window is perfect, the size of the desk is perfect. There’s a pipe right next to it with a constant flow of water—which I hope is not from the bathroom—that is actually quite soothing ambient noise.
After winter break, I was so excited to come back to my desk, and it was always open waiting for me. Except one day.
I had so many pages of reading to do and so little time. I was stressed. I bought a coffee and walked across the street, ready for the feeling of comfort that my desk offers me. As I walked up the stairs and through the stacks, I felt something was wrong.
Someone was sitting at my desk.
I stood for a second, trying to decide what my next move would be. I could’ve sat somewhere else, but it just wouldn’t be right.
I decided to leave. I walked out of Olin and back to my room in the Butts. I took off my coat, scarf, and shoes and took a nap. Maybe my desk wanted to be taken, so it could tell me to get some sleep. If so, I’m thankful.
-Olivia Ramseur
Dear Diary,
Last Friday, my friends and I went to Metro Movies to see “The Gentleman.” While the movie dealt with the “honor among thieves” ethics of drug empires, we debated a far less significant ethical quandary: whether or not it’s ok to smuggle your own candy into the movie theater. Personally, I usually bring my own candy because it’s less expensive. However, movie theaters make most of their money off of concessions and not movie ticket sales. So, am I depriving the theater of their main income source? For example, you wouldn’t bring your own food to a restaurant. That argument begs the question, are you buying the ability to view the movie, or the movie-going experience as a whole? The former entails that any snacks you bring with you are your business, while the latter implies that purchasing candy there is part of the process.
In the end, I think I’ll keep smuggling in my own candy because I don’t want to wait in line and miss making fun of the trailers.
-Katarina Grealish
Dear Diary,
The first weekend in February is always an exciting time for me, and it’s not because of the Super Bowl. The first Saturday in February marks International Ice Cream for Breakfast Day. Invented in the 1960s by a mother hoping to entertain her children, the holiday has been a part of my family for as long as I can remember. Every year we make our way to our family friends’ celebration where they have a myriad of ice cream flavors. We stuff our stomachs with Ben & Jerry’s, reminding ourselves that it’s appropriate to do so on this holy day.
Coming to college, I knew I would have to find an alternative way to celebrate, because travelling back home just for one day seemed ludicrous. Last February, the Usdan ice cream service proved useful when I coerced some friends into celebrating with me at brunch.
But, I wanted this year to be different. One of my favorite things about Ice Cream for Breakfast Day is the gathering of people from all over.
So this past Saturday I tried to do just that. I invited people from all spheres of my life at Wesleyan to come by and get free ice cream. I shared the origin of the holiday, and my experiences celebrating over the years. Although it wasn’t the exact celebration I was so used to, it made me happy to share a tradition that had brought me (and still continues to bring me!) so much joy. So mark your calendars for February 6th, 2021. I already have.
-Hannah Docter-Loeb