I’m a sentimental, sappy, bear your soul in an '80s love song kind of girl. I hate to admit it and despite donning a coffee–drinking sarcastic shell, I’m really just made up of unicorns, hearts and bubble letters. That being said, one might easily anticipate my reaction to the abroaders’ epic homecoming. With the ring of a doorbell, tears were shed. Bear hugs commenced. Heart–to–hearts about foreign love affairs occupied my post–2 a.m. time slots. But soon it dawned on all of us that as second semester juniors, we begin to enter that weird time warp where everything goes too quickly yet never quickly enough. We’re faced with the sappiest sap of all: the idea of saying goodbye. Seniors enter that awkward senioritis phase while we, the youngins’, look on forlornly and tremble at the idea of stepping into the scary shoes at the top. Weren’t we freshmen livin’ it up at NSO just yesterday? While I wallowed in this self–pity for a few days, a good friend, ever the optimist, shared with me the obvious, “No one’s going anywhere just yet.” With that swirling in my head, I made a conscious decision. For now, we can all sit back, relax and let the good times roll, as they say. Kweder will still play on Tuesdays at Smokes.’ Tabard pledges will still don water bottle headgear and, of course, Street will still print on Thursdays. With a new year upon us, we bring you the same familiar Street with a few new badges of flair. Even if your new year's resolutions have already worn away (p. 15), maybe you’ll find yourself covering up your Brussels sprout–induced farts (p. 10). Either way, I’m putting my dread of May days on hold and will be hiding in a (slightly embarrassing) world filled with kittens and Lisa Frank folders.
Rainbows and sunshine,
