Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away, which can only mean one thing: Finals week is looming on the horizon. I know that in the coming weeks, aside from a caffeine-induced coma, my inbox will miraculously become filled with pleas from fellow students who beg for help like I’m a superhero or something.
I’m tired. The Packers lost again, I’ve already written a column this week and I mentally checked out days ago because I’m taking my first trip ever to Green Bay, Wis. this weekend.
In short, it’s time for a “rambling” column. Let’s begin:
Who is the greatest quarterback of all time? That’s debatable.
Where is the best bar in San Diego? There are at least 30 good answers.
But what is the greatest video game of all time? There’s no question: Mario Kart 64.
I love riding the trolley and seeing strangers forced to be in contact with one another. When the trolley stalls, the McDonald’s fry cook and U.S. Bank manager who would normally avoid all eye contact are forced to glance at each other, bonded by the common goal of journeying between points A and B. Seeing everyone forced to make body contact would make Mahatma Gandhi proud.
You may have noticed that I haven’t ran any e-mails lately.
It’s not that I haven’t been getting any, but rather it seems lately that people are seeking me out on Facebook or in person to give me feedback.
Lately, I’ve been questioning if democracy works.
Before you call me a traitor and try to impale me with one of those miniature American flags, hear me out.
Being in college, promiscuity is at an all-time high. College is a time to hook up, have fun and make bad decisions. One major dilemma arises when it comes to hooking up: What if she gets pregnant?
Recently my boyfriend John and I discovered the true meaning of love while waiting in line for breakfast at Hash House a Go Go.
For those who have never been, Hash House is a breakfast restaurant in the Hillcrest area that provides large servings of food. And I do mean large: One meal could easily feed a starving family of four.
Halloween sucks. There, I said it.
Yeah, that’s right, I’ll say it again: Halloween sucks. It is without question the most overrated holiday of the year.
In fact, it shouldn’t even be called a holiday. It doesn’t deserve to be in the same class as Christmas, St. Patrick’s Day or even Columbus Day.
I jerked awake at 7:30 a.m. in my sleeping bag. I was in my brother’s camper in San Clemente and, as usual, I was the first one awake after a long night. I was still salty and sandy from our beach adventures the day before. Day-old mascara had melted onto my cheeks and my hair was threatening to dread and never return to its usual locks.
I’m not sure how many of you actually remember your “first time,” but mine was one that’s hard to forget. For those who remember it as awkward or embarrassing, I can assure you my story will help ease your pain.
No matter who you are, what you believe in or how politically involved you are, chances are that at some point in your life, a petitioner has made you uncomfortable. It’s an unavoidable fact of life. Everyone has been approached by at least one of these form-bearing passer-outers, and I think others can relate when I say I spend the duration of the time trying to figure out the quickest way out of it.
David Pope recently traveled to Las Vegas to celebrate his 21st birthday. The first part of his adventure can be found in the Oct. 15 issue of The Daily Aztec or online at
www.thedailyaztec.com
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San Diego has finally cooled down, which can only mean one thing: The Ugg boots have emerged.
Yes, the monstrosities known as Uggs can be seen all across campus now that it’s a frigid 64 degrees outside.
For the past few months, I have been living in a shack made out of particle board and plastic. Every surface has been painted white to hide the marks of a shady past that I’m sure includes the manufacturing and selling of crack cocaine.
Let me take you back to an innocent time.
A time when people continuously speculated on the whereabouts of Carmen Sandiego. A time when people thought Zack from “Saved by the Bell” was the pinnacle of cool.
It was 1992 and I was 5 years old.
and 
