Category: Reflections

The Earl of Knuckle Sandwich

Someone punched me in the face.

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Only Curling, After All

“There are three types of curlers: the competitive, the prepubescent, and the beer-drinking. I have played with all three types in roughly equal measures.”

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MONOLOGUES

“Zach Feig ’18 is organizing a staged reading of monologues, submitted anonymously by students at Princeton, about their struggles with eating, eating disorders, nutrition, weight loss, weight gain, and dieting. The project’s goal is to generate conversation and community around maintaining a healthy relationship with food. The Nassau Weekly has worked with Zach to showcase a small collection of these monologues, printed here, with a similar aspiration.”

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The Movement Towards Endings

“This isn’t to say that an ending has no value, for where the author leaves us at the end is always strategic and therefore important to
think about. However, we have grown too attached to endings.”

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Full Send

“They know something real about the surface of things. I would say that they defy the abstractions, statistics, and agendas of public policy, the academic event of the structure in whose shadow they roughly glide, jump, and fall.”

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Crazy

I decide that if only girls are crazy, I will be a boy—

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Telescoping Morning

“In the succeeding entries, we telescope our mornings by recounting and recasting. Each succeeding morning of a series is composed in exactly half the number of words of the previous. Diminish with us below.”

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A Taste for Iron & Wine

When Samuel Beam, better known by his stage name Iron & Wine, sidled his way onto the Peter J. Sharp stage at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the crowd of New Yorkers in the auditorium took in a collective breath and began to applaud.

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Hannah-Sophie Vester

I’ve never seen my birth certificate, but I know what it says. I can see the angular font in my head, bold blocky letters spelling out my name: Hannah-Sophie Vester. Perhaps the ink, thick and sticky, smudged just a little and that’s where that mark, printed defiantly between Hannah and Sophie, came from. Just a typo, a wayward smudge. Another look, though, and who wouldn’t recognize the hyphen for what it is?

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Gifts from a Little Train

A love letter to the (temporarily) retired port of Princeton.

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A Bug’s Death

I am nine years old, give or take a couple years, and I have learned rage. Like a clumsy Hulk, I crush and I smash and I murder what must be dozens, if not billions, of ants.

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Racial Profile

Before I saw a protest on the night of the Ferguson verdict, I was a cynic who idly by and did nothing but criticize as my brothers and sisters fought for change.

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