Dear Emerson Undergrads

My list of grievances against you is long, but today I will focus on your grossest and most common offense: smoking. Listen kids, this old lady has some news for you: smoking is disgusting. You block my path into buildings with your smoke clusters, and guess what? You don't look cool. You look like a failed imitation of coolness, which is just embarrassing. Plus, you're not going to look young forever, and when you're futilely rubbing night cream into your prematurely aged skin you'll be sorry. So take it from someone who knows, and go spend your money on something better. Even if that is just another pair of American Apparel black leggings.

PS I know what you're thinking, and your right. I am a hypocrite. But I think occasionally having a drag from a cigarette when I'm drunk isn't the same.

H to the Izzle

I'm on the Grammar Girl daily email list, which is usually a snooze fest, and she finally emailed me about something I care about:

The Oxford English Dictionary doesn't commit to "hurray" being the origin of "yay" but does mention it as one possibility. I traced the dates of words that could be origins of "yay" and thought the results were interesting.

1450 Hissa
1682 Huzza
1716 Whurra
1773 Hurrea
1855 Hurray
1865 Hooroar
1888 Hooray
1963 Yay


Huzza is still circulating, but I want to make a plug for bringing back Whurra and Hooroar. They sound scary. I am going to shout them the next time I am drunk in a crowded public area. Just one step at a time.

Grad School,

Were you always this hard? Because I hate you. I mean I really hate you to the point that I want to drop out and lay on my mom's couch just to recover from the thought of how much homework I have due. I'm not sure this is all it was cracked up to be. I'm not sure I want to stick around for another year and a half. You are seriously no fun this semester. It's been less than a month, but already I need a vacation.