Today, UNC will celebrate the Hindu holiday of Holi with our annual Holi Moli festival of colors. At this joyful event, Tar Heels — regardless of their background — will join together at Polk Place to throw their colors in the air in honor of all the good that stems from the diversity our community offers.
Teaching, to me, represents the joy of learning. I have found no better way to express this joy than to have pursued a license in secondary education during my undergraduate experience.
Happy Valentine’s Day (or, how I used to adoringly call it, “Drink Until You Throw Up on a Happy Couple Day”)!
Students will vote on a referendum asking if they support UNC’s $2.1 billion endowment getting rid of its investments in the coal industry on Feb. 12. If you want to carry forward our University’s tradition of student leadership on climate justice and environmental action, you should vote yes.
At around 9:00 p.m. on Tuesday, feelings of apathy and dread overwhelmed me. Perplexed and a bit afraid, I logged into my Facebook profile seeking insight on these feelings (because obviously my Facebook news feed provides me with guidance on the innermost struggles of my soul).
It is intimate, raw and raunchy. It makes you moan and groan. It takes your breath away and has your toes stretch to the farthest corners of space and time. After its climax, relief settles into your body as a sense of relaxation spreads throughout your muscles.
I looked at the half-eaten slice of pumpkin pie on my plate. It was past midnight post-Thanksgiving day, and I was adamant about continuing the tradition of stuffing my face with food until I finished watching reruns of House Hunters on HGTV.
I was six years old when my hair began to fall out. One morning, I woke up and my pillow was covered with hair. One patch on my head turned into larger spots of exposed skin during the following days.
Dear Mr. President and Gov. Romney, I have been thinking about you both a lot recently while showering.
