What comes to mind when you hear the words "Chinese food"? Where does it take you? Maybe it's when you grab a bite to eat with friends at Panda Express, maybe it's dinnertime as a child when you lived back home with the comforts of home-cooked meals, maybe it's when you tried dim sum for the first time, maybe it's lunch at Rice Garden in the Student Center or maybe you just hate eating Chinese food. Whatever your experience, Chinese food is a big part of American culture.
AWKWARD SITUATIONS: When I first pitched the idea of writing a column documenting the uncomfortable and awkward moments featuring yours truly, I had an abundance of awkward moments to choose from. But oddly enough, as soon as I began writing a biweekly column for the New University and relying on the money I receive for writing the column (I'm the stereotype of a broke college student, just sans Ramen Noodles as a staple food), I no longer found myself in excruciatingly uncomfortable situations.
One question has confused mankind for as long as we have roamed the earth, and still continues to make us rethink and re-evaluate our lives everyday. It is the question of love.
Nobody likes a sore loser. And perhaps a sore winner is even worse. If a cocky victor or a whiny newbie pushes your buttons, then maybe you should consider the sport of chess boxing. It's intellectual, you get to beat the snot out of your opponent and take some bitter pleasure in it if he's a whiny loser. If you suck at chess, you can win by moving your fist to his kisser.
THE WAY I SEE IT: Before I even turned the much-anticipated age of 21, I told myself (and so did my mother) that I would go to Vegas and be the best 21-year-old I could be. Translation: drink, gamble and do all of the reckless things I would not be able to do in a few years. This, however, never happened, and it was not long before I found myself in the same old routine: school, the occasional visit back home, the rare house party and the infrequent satisfaction of purchasing my own alcohol. Then I turned 22, and decided that this little "ring around the Vegas" had gone on long enough.
Picture this: It's a Friday morning and you wake up to bright neon numbers flashing directly in your face and the obnoxious alarm begging you to wake up after a long night out. You smack the snooze button in an attempt to gain a few extra minutes of sleep, only to wake up to the same situation nine minutes later. This is a common scenario. It's said that the few minutes of sleep you get when you hit the snooze button is the best you get of the night. However, it's often the most costly as well.
