Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Dandy Cats: https://vimeo.com/33968489

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column. I have NOT read any of these questions beforehand – despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

Winning can’t just happen, though; it requires performance and training. For athletes to perform well, they have to be healthy and energized so they can reflect their full potential. What am I getting at, you may ask? Well, athletes need the right food in their stomachs in order to do their best. Coaches or trainers usually suggest fruits, vegetables, or maybe carbs or lean meats before a meet, game, or some sort of competition. Although, if you look around a sporting event at the concession stands set up, these normally aren’t the types of foods offered. The wafting smells of hot dogs, nachos, popcorn, or burgers surround people at game fields or in stadiums. There is usually candy and other sweets for sale along with sugary drinks and soda. How in the world does this correspond with what athletes are supposed to eat? Right, it doesn’t.

As a runner, for example, looks to snag a snack between events, he or she probably isn’t looking to stuff themself with fattening, heavy food. That just doesn’t make sense. Unfortunately, most sporting event environments offer only that. Every so often you may see a bag of pretzels or crackers for sale, but the bags hanging inside concession stands are a lot of the time greasy potato chips. Instead of energizing an athlete, these fatty foods will only fill them up in the wrong way.

I was the kind of kid who wanted to be going 100 miles a minute at all times. In the summer, I packed up my bag each morning prepared for golf, swim, and tennis lessons. My mom would give me a nutritional breakfast and an apple as I walked out the door. Wednesday nights were swim meet nights. I’d run to the concession stand between events in my swim cap and goggles and end up getting a Gatorade and maybe a hot pretzel thinking it would be a good thing to eat before I jumped in the water for another race. Wrong. Eating junk only made me feel sick, definitely not energized. Unfortunately, athletes deal with this all of the time.

I started dancing competitively in fifth grade, which I found to require much more stamina than any other sport I’d ever participated in. Believe it or not, I discovered that dance competitions served the same kinds of food as other sporting events. Just great. Before and after performing dances, dancers should eat nourishing foods that will keep them replenished and ready to go. Why is it so difficult to sell fruits and vegetables at concession stands? Instead of ice cream and cookies, offer some peanut butter crackers or yogurt. If sporting event concession stands would alter their menus to be at least somewhat healthy, athletes would surely perform better and get more out of their exercise. Basketball players about to play a big game against their rival shouldn’t gorge themselves with hot dogs and burgers; they should eat a filling yet healthy meal that will make them feel good and give them the ability to be the best they can be.

My point here is that fattening foods being served at sporting events only tempt athletes to eat them because they’re hungry and need some energy. Ironically enough, eating badly is making them worse off. It’s an easy fix; it just needs to be acted on.

Stop with the junk at games. Instead of concession stands stocking up with greasy foods and fattening snacks, those in charge should actually consider what athletes should be eating at their sporting events. Swap some hotdogs and nachos for some bananas or carrots and a salad with some chicken. The day I see fruit and vegetables in a concession stand will surely be a good one.

Photo by Mike Nemec

Yesterday we celebrated a successful year at the Intersection with a tie-dye extravaganza. It was gorgeous outside so we were able to go wild with all of the vibrant colors. The kids got to create masterpeices on socks and shirts. However, we accidently bought some really small shirts that wouldn’t fit anyone there. We still had the kids decorate them and we plan to donate them to a preschool in Columbia. It was a ton of fun to see how excited the kids got about creating different designs on their clothes. A few of us also joined in on the fun and made some swanky shirts. It was a great activity to celebrate all of the wonderful things we have been able to do with the kids at the Intersection this year.

By Kelsey Harper

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes 

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the journalism (room 329), or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the 10 minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

Art by Michelle Zhuang

When our Spring Break turned into Winter Break Part Two, I realized that spending the entire week watching television wasn’t the best idea. So I turned towards my bookshelf, which was overflowing with new and old copies of different books. I had forgotten how much fun reading was. In high school, every day is just another struggle to get all of my homework done and still get enough sleep to function the next day. Finding time to read books is an extremely difficult task.

Occasionally, though, I still take out a few of my favorite books and sit down on the old couch in the basement. And once I start a book, I don’t stop until I have spent several hours reading it. I realize that I forget how amazing books are and how they are more effective at providing an escape from reality than the Internet or television. I really do take books for granted and let them sit for months on my bookshelf without even giving it a second thought.

Every book pulls me into a new world, filled with new people and a new situation. I travel my way through the story along with all the main characters and become emotionally attached to all the people I “meet” along the way. Their stories make me laugh, cry and feel their pain, every ounce of it. I have all kinds of books stacked up in my basement, in every genre you can think of. And they all offer a different experience for me, a different journey to go on.

When I was younger, I used to be addicted to reading. I still remember the day I finished a chapter book for the first time and the ecstasy I felt. I have all my picture books from my childhood; I remember taking them all out and reading dozens of them in a day. I would cherish each page, each illustration, each word. I saw every book as a magical world, far away from our own. I often yearned to step into a book and leave everything behind.

Now that I’m older, I have drifted away from the enchanted world of books. I struggle to find time to become completely absorbed in a novel and lose track of all time. But when I do find time to read, I realize it is the best form of entertainment I will ever have.

As summer approaches, my bookshelf continues to call out to me. And this time, I won’t ignore its call.

By Afsah Khan

Our Intersection core group leaders and teacher sponsor accepted the Columbia Daily Tribune Hero award in the youth volunteer category for RBRO at the banquet today. From left to right: Stephen Turban, Mrs. Weaver, Nomin Jagdagdorj, David Wang, Aniqa Rahman, and Rasheeq Nizam. Photo by Kelsey Harper

Tonight at a banquet at Stoney Creek Inn, the winners of the Columbia Daily Tribune’s Hero Awards were announced. RBRO was nominated for our work with The Intersection and was in the Youth Volunteer category along with Boy Scouts Troop 706, Mary Cleek, Madison Falcone and Cierra L. Nelson. The five core leaders for the Intersection, Stephen Turban, David Wang, Rasheeq Nizam, Nomin Jagdagdorj and Aniqa Rahman, were all able to attend along with our teacher sponsor, Mrs. Weaver. After a nail-biting evening, RBRO was announced as the winner for the Youth Volunteer category. A $400 prize will be donated to the Intersection. We were extremely honored to be nominated for this award and even more honored when we won amongst such worthy competition. When it comes to giving back to the community, however, we really are all winners.

By Kelsey Harper

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayoussi

In the sixth grade, my English teacher told us to write about an event in our life that we were looking forward to most. While I wanted to write I was looking forward to my wedding day the most, my teacher used her daughter’s wedding as the example. My then sixth-grade self was into being “creative and original” and all that jazz, and I knew I had to come up with something else.

And so, while I really wasn’t even looking forward to my prom senior year, I wrote about getting ready with my friends, picking out a dress and going to the actual prom. Over the years, my excitement grew, and now that prom is actually almost here, it is the one thing the majority of senior girls are thinking about.

Whether it’s the dress, the hair, the nails, the food or the photography, one thing that dominates the gossip channel these days are the “proposals”: How will he ask? For those girls out there who have dates, congratulations. And guys, hopefully you delved into that “creative and original” brain of yours to come up with a spiffy idea.

But if you’re still dateless and don’t know how to ask, here are my top 10 dream prom proposals.

10. Punny Prom Proprosal

I don’t know about other girls, but I love puns. Who doesn’t? While they may not always be incredibly clever or can be kind of cliche, they are cute. Some punny prom proposals can include laying Hershey Kisses on the ground with a note that says, “Now that I’ve kissed the ground that you walk on, will you go to prom with me?” or ordering a cheese pizza and writing, “I know this is cheesy, but will you to prom with me?”

9. Car proposals

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always thought that car proposals were super cute.  And they’re not always exactly easy to go unnoticed.  Decorate his or her car with “Prom?” or fill it with balloons, candy, stuffed animals or any other fun item.  From what I’ve noticed, it works everytime.

8. Candle proposals

In my opinion, candle proposals — lighting candles and having them spell out “Prom?” — are the most cliche way to ask someone to prom.  But they are the classiest.  So, if you must go the cliche route, candles proposals are the way to go.

7. Make a Mix CD

Prove how well you know each other by putting together a Mix CD of all your favorite romantic songs. Record yourself asking the person to prom and put it on the CD, or pop the question by writing it on the CD.

6. Disney Prom Proposal

I don’t know how you would do it, but if someone asked me to prom and it involved Disney characters, songs or movies, I would definitely say yes.

5. An ad in The Rock or on Bearing News

You know you want to.

4. Flowers

No matter what anyone says, deep down, all girls love flowers.  And what’s a more romantic way to ask a girl to prom than providing her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers?

3. Make him or her food

Bake the special person a batch of cookies with a prom proposal underneath, spell out “Prom?” on a cake or have a special message written on a message for a fortune cookie and give it to him or her when you’re out for Chinese food.

2. Write a letter

Letter-writing is so old fashioned and so rare nowadays that anyone would be thrilled to see a formal written invitation or letter in their mailbox. Write your proposal in calligraphy on a piece of parchment paper, roll it up and tie with a ribbon and stick it in her mailbox, in her locker or attach it to a stuffed animal.

1. Just ask

Regardless of the way you end up asking the special person, the asking part is the most important. And in reality, most people just want to be asked. While the clever and extravagant prom proposal makes for good stories and Instagram photo opportunities, if the person really wants to go with you, they’ll say yes no matter what.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

The jelly bean display at the Candy Factory.
Photo by Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Spring is here.

The pitter-pattering of the rain has begun to hit my windows every morning. And I lull myself to sleep with quiet french songs, cuddled up in the nook of easy chair with a worn out Harry Potter novel. It’s the time for freshly-cut flowers, playing frisbee in the park and chocolate-covered strawberries.

It is the perfect season for a journey to the corner of Cherry St., to the Candy Factory, the sweetest destination in town.

The green rounded awning welcomes you and transports you to some old forgotten day. Inside, the wooden counters shine, and the glass display cases glisten. But the look of the store is not important: it’s the smell. Somehow, the thick Missouri spring air gets in and mixes with the heavy tones of chocolate, butterscotch and icing. It’s this delightful amalgam of fresh and sweet. It makes you focus on your breathing, each breath seeming to say, “Inhale, this is where I belong. Exhale, I’m never leaving.”

Walk around for a second in this store and you’ll be overwhelmed by all of the delicious options. Candy Lego blocks, chocolate covered Oreos, jelly beans, chocolate potato chips, truffles and really anything you can imagine.

Easter may be gone, and with it all the peeps and chocolate bunnies have left, but spring itself is a holiday. We survived another Missouri winter, and for that, you deserve a treat.

And if you’re a Columbian, you have been to the top level of the Candy Factory. It is Willy Wonka’s home away from home, his little hideaway when he needs to come to Columbia to watch the Tigers. It’s gumdrop city, strawberry-clouded, liquorice-lined.

The workers behind the class wave a happy good morning, and you rest for a spring moment on the bendy bench and take the hardiest of bites of your purchase from downstairs.

The calming, too-sweet taste of chocolate mixes with the tart strawberry, and it all settles on my expectant tongue — a spring serenade.

I flip the worn page of Prisoner of Azkaban and pop another one in. Mmmmm.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Photo illustration by Paige Kiehl

The fact that engineers hate me plays a big part in my life. The way that things are built and my 4’11” height don’t usually equate well. Shelves are too high, clothing racks hit me in the head, and I have to sit on my knees at restaurants. I can’t reach anything. It’s a fact. Everything is just too tall for me.

Eating out brings up conflicts between countertops and my height. I will be sitting at Panera, waiting patiently for my buzzer to go off and then suddenly it does. I go up to the counter and go on my tiptoes to put away my buzzer and then again to grab my food. It’s even harder when I have to grab 2 plates and balance them while on my tiptoes. I swear, I’m like a ballerina with how many times I go on my tiptoes during the day.

Tiptoes are basically my go to. I really should’ve been put into ballet when I was younger. I use them daily to reach anything that exceeds 5 feet. Sometimes though, tiptoes are not enough. When I was younger, my parents used to call me a monkey because I climbed on top of the kitchen counters to reach the things I needed.  I am forced through my height to climb to reach anything high up. I am a skilled professional at climbing on kitchen countertops, on top of dressers, desks and up shelves. It’s a talent.

If you want some climbing lessons, I’d be happy to help. Let’s say a pot is on the top shelf and my short, stubby arms aren’t long enough to reach them. Well, you just stick your foot onto the countertop. Flexibility helps and push yourself up so you are now standing on top of  said countertop. Strength helps too. This climbing skill is really useful when you’re my height.

In public though, it is not socially acceptable to climb on counters to reach something. Seriously, people would look at me like I was crazy. Wouldn’t you look at someone strange if you saw them climbing all over counters and shelves? At stores, I am faced with a dilemma that seems tiny but is actually a major problem. The small size of clothing is always on the top rack. Whatever genius decided to put the smallest size up so high is, in fact, not a genius. I am constantly embarrassing myself by finding a step stool somewhere in the store and using that to reach the article of clothing. Or, I am trying to sneak and use that nifty tool the employees are only supposed to use to grab the hanger. Or, I am asking another person in the section to grab the clothes for me. And as a last resort, I go to ask an employee to grab it for me. I have even tried jumping to grab whatever object I want. That isn’t looked at as socially acceptable, apparently.

It’s not really appropriate to climb in grocery stores either. But those shelves were just made to climb. They’re a perfect ladder. The things I need always happen to be on the top, so I have learned how to climb stealthily enough up the shelves. My mom sometimes even asks me to grab stuff, since she’s about the same height as me. She’ll say, “Alyssa, go get that salad dressing for me.” So I climb to the top and jump off from there — though first I have to make sure no one else is in the aisle to give me a disapproving look.

Since climbing is not accepted in most classrooms, I am not privileged to have certain things. In the Journalism room, the secret buddy boxes scale up to the ceiling of the classroom. At the beginning of the year, I declared that my box could not be even close to the top, or else I would end up climbing up onto the counter. With that declaration made, I finally received my box. On the first row. I’m not complaining; I just find it funny that due to my height, I am limited to a max of the first row.

I frequently realize how short I am because of my inability to reach up high. My short height makes me climb and jump to reach things, which can be embarrassing at times — wait, it’s embarrassing all the time. But if I wasn’t short, I wouldn’t be able to embarrass myself all the time, so there’s a positive … But really, I couldn’t imagine being any taller.

By Alyssa Piecko

By Kelsey Harper

[Show as slideshow]

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the journalism (room 329), or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the 10 minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

By Kelsey Harper

It’s an interesting beast. At RBHS, at least, our show choir is smaller than other schools our size, which is strange, considering our usual embracing of the unusual — ZDL etc. A possible explanation is that it’s pretty demanding, being a zero-hour class worth credit that meets before school, and most show choir members are pretty sweaty in first hour. Also, the split, like all the choral programs here, is in favor of girls, which is unrecognized as being awesome.

Other show choirs, at least on a high level, are generally composed of, alternately, Amazonian women and other superhumans who can dance like Micheal Jackson and sing like, well, Micheal Jackson. This is why Show Choir Nationals is intimidating.

Set in scenic Nashville, Tenn., on the perilously famous Grand Old Opry stage, Show Choir Nationals is an experience for sure. Our performance was a barrel of monkeys; I discovered that clubs make me anxious and went way over par in minigolf thanks to one hole which I  decuple-bogied. Also, barbeque. So much delicious barbeque.

But the real purpose of this blog, besides being an infomercial for Show Choir (IF YOU IDENTIFY WITH THE MALE GENDER TRY OUT), is to complain about our town’s lack of a Panda Express. Seriously, Nashville has one in its colossal yet linear mall, and it’s awesome. I ate there twice. It’s basically Hyvee Chinese but a higher quality — it’s even the same price. We have 100,000 people in this town. We have a Five Guys. We need a Panda Express.

Also, Gunther’s Games is open again downtown apparently. I haven’t had a chance to check it out because I’m writing this blog, but if the arcades in Nashville are any indication, I’m going to spend an absurd amount of money trying to retrieve stuffed animals from a claw machine which is designed to pay out when I stop playing. Also Mrs. Pac Man.

By Adam Schoelz

photo by Manal Salim

In the world of fashion, naturally, colors are popping up everywhere. Whether on the runway, in local stores or on people themselves, I’ve been instantly drawn to the vibrant colors displayed that epitomize the new spring season we have just dived into. However, rather than looking to splash some color into my wardrobe, I decided to try adding variety somewhere a little different.

And where did I go for inspiration? You guessed it, Pinterest was my way to go. Scrolling through the various pins, I finally came across an idea I deemed simple enough to give a shot. After the drying winter months, my lips were seriously begging for at least some attention. In this DIY project, I made a tinted lip balm that will be perfect for that subtle pop of color, along with some much need moisturization.

To make this lip balm, gather the following:

photo by Manal Salim

Tube of lipstick in your choice of color

Empty container (I used a Carmex jar, but you could use an old contact lens case as well)

Vaseline or Carmex (I used Carmex)

Lighter

Spoon

Butter knife

Now, to create your DIY:

1. Take your butter knife, scoop out a small amount of Vaseline or Carmex and place the plain lip balm onto your spoon. After that, slice another small amount of the lip stick and place that onto the spoon as well. Keep in mind, the more Carmex and lipstick you use, the more product you will get. Just be sure not to use too much, so it doesn’t spill off of your spoon.

photo by Manal Salim

2. Next, hold up your spoon in one hand. In the other hand, turn on the lighter and slightly wave it underneath the spoon. In order to prevent anything from burning, hold the lighter at a distance where the tip of the flame barely touches the back of the spoon. Wave the flame back and forth gently to prevent burning the spoon.

3. Wait until all of the products melt together, after about a minute. If the mixing process isn’t really working very well, I recommend using a toothpick to really blend both ingredients. After everything is all melted together, go ahead and carefully pour the mixture into your empty container.

photo by Manal Salim

4. After this, wait for about 5 minutes or until your new tinted lip balm has solidified. Then, go ahead and give your new DIY a try!

Completing this project not only satisfied my lips, but it also made me content in that I now have a new product without spending any money at all. All these everyday products were available right at my home, and I’m almost positive you can find them at yours as well. Color for the spring season doesn’t necessarily have to be added to just your wardrobe. This subtle amount of vibrancy ties into the spring trends, while also keeping your lips nourished. This project literally took me less than 10 minutes from start to finish. It was an effective use of my time and will be of yours as well.

By Manal Salim

Art by Michelle Zhuang

As a winter full of bleak, colorless days gives way to the mild and sunny days of a Missouri spring, it seems as though all of Columbia comes to life. Now is the time to stow away those bulky winter jackets for another year, and skirts and dresses make their way out of the closet once again. Gone are the days of crouching over a space heater with a blanket wrapped tightly around the shoulders, and thermostats can finally take a break as pleasant weather rolls in.

It was on one of these pleasant days that I decided to spend some time at the park and cherish the early spring breeze before Missouri’s bipolar weather decided to change again. As I sat on the swing and lightly kicked at the wood chips around my feet, my attention fell upon all the small children who were enjoying the fine day as well. A little girl with perfect blonde curls slid down the slide, while another pair of children played hide-and-seek amongst the park equipment.

The entire scene before me was peaceful and happy. And I realized the reason for the carefree ambiance was the children themselves and the innocence they take with them everywhere they go.

Childhood is a time of peace and tranquility. It’s a time when school doesn’t stress you out; it’s a time when nobody breaks your heart. Children don’t have to worry about keeping up with classes, and they don’t have to constantly fret about balancing a job and schoolwork along with personal issues. Childhood is an innocent time, when the world seems like a beautiful place, free of corruption, lying and cheating.

The small children who toddled their way around the park on that warm afternoon made me realize how my fast-paced life prevented me from ever appreciating the innocence of these children. It’s clearly something we all take for granted. In a world that is overflowing with crime and corruption, naivete is something we all need to cherish.

It’s hard to believe, but children themselves provide a sense of innocence to the world, everywhere they go. And it’s this innocence that no one seems to appreciate until it’s gone. When 20 sweet children were violently killed at Sandy Hook Elementary in December, the public’s reaction seemed more intense as compared to previous mass shootings. Reporters wept on live television, and our own President shed a few tears in front of the entire country. This was all because 20 children were killed. Innocent kids, who probably had no idea what happened to them. It was then that people around the world stopped to appreciate these innocent children.

Even though the children who are playing at the park today will soon grow up and realize that the world is a bad place, filled with bad people, and become as cynical as the generations before them, there will always be more kids to take their place. And no matter how old we are, we should always stop and appreciate them.

By Afsah Khan

Once we decided we wanted to do something for HIV/AIDS prevention, we knew there would be a lot of incredible organizations that we could fundraise for. What made Trail to a Cure stand out was that it’s based in Central Missouri, meaning we can make a local difference.

TTAC is a non-profit, grassroots organization fighting against HIV and AIDS. Through fundraising, TTAC works toward both prevention and assisting those living with the disease in Central Missouri. A couple of weeks ago, we had a speaker from TTAC come and talk to us about their work. She talked about the disease itself, who it affected and what kind of work TTAC did to fight HIV/AIDS.

This last meeting, we decided on some fundraiser possibilities, and the next couple meetings will probably be focused on getting those fundraisers worked out, making posters and eating delicious food. As always, we would love to see you there (Wednesdays from 7-8 p.m.)!

By Urmila Kutikkad

Logo by Paige Martin

Thankfully, the snow has melted away, the green grass is beginning to grow and the temperatures have reached wonderful heights. So I guess I can assume that spring has finally arrived. Other than the changes in the weather, spring fashion trends have taken a turn from the winter styles as well. Browsing through the fashion tabs on Pinterest, I noticed repeated bright, colorful outfits, and fun, ditsy prints scattered all across my screen.

Rather than deciding to go out and spend cash to keep up with the latest spring trends, I took the initiative and planned to make a pair of “spring-style” pants for myself. In this DIY project, I took inspiration from the www.swellmayde.com DIY blog on Pinterest, and easily made a pair of cute polka-dot pants that fit right in with the styles I’ve noticed popping up this spring.

What you’ll need:

A pair of pants, leggings, or jeans that you’re looking to spice up

photo by Manal Salim

Duct tape

Fabric paint in the color of your choice (I used white)

Small, square piece of paper with a circle stencil cut into it

Paintbrush

photo by Manal Salim

Plastic plate

How to create your polka-dot pants:

1. Set out pants onto a flat surface, and remove any debris from the pants. In this DIY, I used a pair of grey jeggings and laid them out on table in my backyard. Take the small, square of paper, and cut a circle stencil that you will use as the size of your polka dot. Then, lay the stencil onto your pants, and tape the paper down on the edges with duct tape.

2. Next, pour some of the fabric paint onto the plastic plate, and dip the paintbrush into the paint. Gently brush the paint across the stencil to paint a circle onto the pants. After that, allow the paint to dry for a minute or two. Apply as much paint as you would like, depending on how opaque you want the polka dot to be.

3. Gently, and carefully remove the taped down stencil from the pants. Then lay the stencil down again onto the next spot where you want to make another polka-dot. Continue this process throughout both legs of the pants until you have reached the style you desire.

photo by Manal Salim

4. Allow the pants to dry for an hour or two, perhaps even three to be safe, then flip the pants over and repeat the design onto the back (if you desire it to be that way). In my case, I only “polka-dotted” the front side of my pants.

5. After this, enjoy wearing your fun, eye-catching polka-dot pants that you created on your own. This way, you can be proud of completing a DIY project that leaves you with a product that fits right in with the spring trends this season, but still has an individualistic flair since the pants weren’t even store bought.

Following my experience with this DIY project, not only did I enjoy spending a lovely 70 degree day outside, I was left with a creative piece that I am sure I will enjoy wearing out this spring. The entire “polka-dotting” process took me about 15-20 minutes on each side, but I wish I could have continued the project for longer, since it was so enjoyable.

Not only can this project be used on pants, but in fact any other fabric you are looking to renovate, and in fact with any other design, other than polka-dots, that you prefer most, including hearts or stars. I thoroughly found this project to be a positive use of my time, and doing this DIY project allows you to relax and enjoy the process of creating these pants, and be extremely satisfied with the cute attire you finish with as well.

What spring trend would you like to see me try to DIY next? Comment below! 

By Manal Salim

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayoussi

If your birthday is not in February, there are basically two days to care about, Valentine’s Day being one of them. While some may oppose the holiday focused on love, it is nevertheless a day filled with excitement, happiness, friendship, and occasionally love. With February in its final week, there is now only one day of importance left in the month: The Academy Awards ceremony.

Being a movie buff, one goal on my long running list is to watch every movie that ever won an Oscar for Best Picture. So naturally, The Academy Awards Ceremony is definitely a day I look forward to. For, literally, the entire year, my father and recount Oscar trivia and discuss if films were worthy of winning or not. And with The Oscars coming up on Feb. 24 this year, it is only fitting to share something my father and I discuss a lot of, whether it’s in the weeks leading up to the ceremony or on an October night when we’re watching The Godfather.

And so, I present unto you, the top 10 Oscar Snubs.

10. Steven Spielberg not being nominated for Best Director (Jaws, 1975)

When “Jaws” was made in 1975, it instantly became iconic in innovative filmmaking. Sure, the film may not meet the special-effect standards of younguns in 2013, but in 1975 it was impressive, really impressive. The film was just fantastic, in all aspects. So, when the Academy announced the nominees for films made in 1975, and Spielberg did not grace the list for Best Director, I think more than just Spielberg took offense. Although directors like Milos Forman for “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” may have been more deserving of the Oscar for Best Director, the fact that Spielberg wasn’t even nominated is just outrageous.

9. Driving Miss Daisy winning Best Picture over anything (1989)

As a Morgan Freeman and Oscar movie lover, I had to watch “Driving Miss Daisy“.  It’s a touching film about the progression of an unlikely friendship between an old woman and her African American driver. The acting was great, and the movie was good, but it winning Best Picture of the year over films like “Dead Poets Society” and “My Left Foot”  is just a tad unexpected. I mean the film was good, but it was boring-good, and “Dead Poets Society” and “My Left Foot” was exciting-thought provoking-good. It shouldn’t have been a contest.

8.  Fargo not winning Best Picture (1996)

At the 70th Academy Awards, “The English Patient” won big, winning nine out of their 12 nominations, including Best Picture. With the film being so successful and notorious for its love story, it was one I had to see. My dear old father, however, disliked the movie and warned me of its long, long running time and lack of excitement. Elaine Benes on Seinfeld is also famous for her deep hatred for the movie, despite everyone else’s acclaim. But I didn’t care, I’m a sucker for Oscar flicks and love stories. I would willingly give up 162 minutes of my time to watch it on Netflix. But I always made excuses to delay watching it. In the end, it just seemed too long and too boring, and I chose to trust my father and Elaine in their movie-reviewing skills. “Fargo,” on the other hand, I did watch and it was absolutely fantastic. A thriller about a car salesman who hires two convicts to kidnap his wife, so he can demand ransom money from his wealthy father-in-law is incredibly engaging, and I could not take my eyes off of my television screen for the entire 98 minutes it was running.  How “Fargo” was beat out for Best Picture by “The English Patient” should be the eighth Wonder of the World if you ask me.

7. Jack Nicholson not being nominated for Best Actor (The Shining, 1980)

“The Shining” was the first Jack Nicholson movie I ever saw, and I never wanted to watch another Jack Nicholson movie ever again. Jack Nicholson’s role as a father turned psycho after living in a haunted hotel became progressively more and more terrifying to watch. Nicholson’s glares and screams were truly scary, and only enhanced the horror film. Jack Nicholson has a knack for acting, which can be seen through his three Oscars, and the fact that the Academy did not recognize him for this one is truly a shame.

6. Citizen Kane not winning Best Picture (1941)

A film about the life and legacy of a newspaper magnate, “Citizen Kane” is considered by many to be the greatest film of all time. “Citizen Kane” is the epitome of innovation at its best, praised for its cinematography, music, and narrative structure. But apparently at the 14th Academy Awards the Academy thought otherwise, and awarded Best Picture to “How Green Was My Valley“. Now, 72 years later, do people remember “Citizen Kane” as the best movie to ever be made or a film about how green someone’s valley was.

5. Al Pacino not winning for The Godfather, The Godfather Part II (1972, 1974)

“The Godfather” is such a great movie filled with great acting.  Relatively unknown at the time, Al Pacino played Michael Corleone, the youngest son of mafia man Vito Corleone. Pacino received critical acclaim for his role, but ended up boycotting the 45th Academy Awards because he was insulted that he was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, rather than Best Actor, despite the fact that he had more screentime than Marlon Brando who ended up winning for Best Actor (Fun Fact: Marlon Brando actually did not accept his award for Best Actor and was protesting Hollywood for their ill-treatment of Native Americans).  Pacino ended up losing Best Supporting Actor to Joel Grey in “Cabaret.” But when Pacino finally received his nod for Best Actor in 1974 for “The Godfather Part II“, he lost to Art Carney in “Harry and Tonto.”  The fact that Al Pacino as Michael Corleone in one of the most culturally significant sagas of all time  went unrecognized is utterly absurd.

4. Alfred Hitchcock never winning an Oscar for Best Director (1941, 1945, 1946, 1955, 1961)

Alfred Hitchcock is a filmmaking mastermind. He could easily be credited with shaping the industry with his iconic films and directorial skills. Yet, he never won an Oscar for Best Director, and wasn’t even nominated for films like “Vertigo,” “North by Northwest” or “The Birds.” Hitchcock’s films are beautifully crafted and if he is able to make an 11-year-old eternally horrified of a peaceful creature like a bird, he deserves an Oscar.

3. Dances with Wolves winning over Goodfellas (1990)

Now, I’ve never seen “Dances with Wolves,” but I’ve seen “Goodfellas.” And the possibility that a 236 minutes western about an Army Lieuteniant’s encounter with Lakota Indians is better than one of the greatest gangster films of all time seems outrageous. Not only did “Goodfellas” lose out on Best Picture, but poor Martin Scorsese lost Best Director to, you guessed it, Kevin Costner for Dances with Wolves.

2. Francis Ford Coppola not winning Best Director (The Godfather, 1972)

“The Godfather” went on to be the first film in one of the most legendary sagas of all time, and the genius behind it all lost Best Director to a director of a musical. Can we all just take a moment to let the Academy know that they messed up big time there.

1. Leonardo DiCaprio never winning an Oscar

If the Academy loves to snub anyone, it’s Leonardo DiCaprio. Leonardo DiCaprio was nominated for an Oscar three times: Best Supporting Actor in 1993 for “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” Best Actor in 2004 for “The Aviator,”and Best Actor in 2006 for “Blood Diamond.” Yet, Dicaprio was not even nominated for films like “This Boy’s Life,” “Titanic,” “Catch Me if You Can,” “Gangs of New York,” “The Departed,” “J. Edgar,” “Inception”, and most recently, “Django Unchained”, along with the million other movies that DiCaprio has starred in. Poor Leo has seen his film being nominated for Best Picture, but never received the call for Best Actor five times. Like I said earlier, I have a long list of life goals, and two revolve around Leonardo DiCaprio. No. 1: to live to see him win an Oscar, and No. 2: to marry him. I would just like to know that at least one of these dreams is possible.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

Join Bearing News’ live blog about the Academy Awards Sunday night, Feb. 24 at 5:45.

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayyousi

I don’t know about you, but I’ve got ‘nothing to play’ syndrome. For those non-gamers out there, or those few that haven’t experienced this, it’s like opening up the fridge and finding it full of food, but nothing is appetizing. Eventually, you get some greek yogurt and granola but you AREN’T HAPPY ABOUT IT.

So I game on PC — based mostly off of Steam with the exception of Far Cry 3, which has to run through Ubisoft’s silly UPlay Steam clone, and I’ve found myself dissatisfied with my current selection of games of late. I open up Steam and I look at the list and I say — I don’t want to play Shogun 2, it’s too stressful. I don’t want to play Garry’s Mod, the mods are too much of a hassle even with Workshop. And heck, I haven’t touched Skyrim in months. Deus Ex is currently abandoned. I still haven’t beaten Far Cry 3. And though I bought Fallout 3 GOTY during the Christmas sale, the mods, particularly the Fallout Overhaul Kit, have left me wanting for a crash-free game.

So I’ll compromise and play a 24/7 Oasis server in Battlefield Bad Company 2, but I’m NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. At least until I blow a building up. That’s always fun.

Anyway, I think it’s weird that I have so many games that I don’t want to play. It would make sense with books or movies, except that I love rewatching movies and rereading books and games are supposed to have longer usable lives anyway. Also, while I’m on the subject, read Joe Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself, and the three standalones after it. It’s the best fantasy. That’s right, better than Game Of Thrones. But I digress.

I began to cast about for a solution — a new game, something to reinvigorate my creative juices and let me see my current library in a different light.

I found a couple of things.

First, mods for Grand Theft Auto 4. I picked up Episodes From Liberty City, which includes Lost and Damned and the only version of GTA4 worth playing, The Ballad Of Gay Tony, during the Steam Christmas sale along with Civilization V and Fallout 3. The vanilla game is good, but I’ve played to death on Xbox and PS3 already — GTA being one of the best games to play with friends to see who can launch farthest off a motorcycle in a head-on collision. But there are mods on PC that make it a whole new game. For instance, the first person mod. Or if insane graphics are your thing and you have i7s to burn, try out the iCE Enhancer mod, which WILL make your eyes bleed and perhaps convince you you are living in the Matrix, at least if you’re standing still. But the best one by far is the simplest — Simple Trainer. The video doesn’t really do it justice. It adds all sorts of cheats — teleporting, weapon unlocks, slow mo, a gravity gun that can throw cars for blocks and perhaps most importantly, the ability to set the nearest pedestrian on fire with O + Num2. What more could you want?

Something apparently, as I’ve still been wanting for games. So at the end of the month I went analog. That’s right. Tabletop.

There are two things I’m gonna plug here. One is Pathfinder. You’ve probably heard of Dungeons and Dragons, the seminal Role-Playing Game Experience. Pathfinder is that but better. Basically, everyone decided that the 3.5 version of DnD was great, but really, there were some things that just needed fixing. Feats were boring, polymorph spells were crazy and combat maneuvers were needlessly complicated. If that sounds like a load of gibberish, don’t worry about it.

Basically, the advantage of a game like Pathfinder is that the limits are within your own head. For instance, in one of my adventures in Pathfinder, we were being chased by a baron for helping his werewolf daughter escape with a local monk, another werewolf. As he and his posse rode us down and we were surely doomed — calvary is not the kindest of encounters — the baron yelled ‘What are you doing!?’

My friend, a half-orc and perhaps the least charismatic character in the party, said in reply ‘What are you doing?’ and rolled perfectly. The baron proceeded to have an on the spot existential crisis, and we got off scot free without a fight. That’s the advantage of tabletop games — the complete malleability of any situation. Want to quest? Quest. Want to become a famous musician? You can do that. Want to set every chicken in the town on fire and force the mayor to pay you in Trident Layers to put them out but then light him on fire? You can do that too, but only if your DM — dungeon master — is very, very kind. Otherwise he’ll probably just kill you.

If that all sounds hopelessly intimidating, as Dungeons and Dragons and its derivative games are famous for rulebooks forged from Neutron Stars, just find an experienced player and ask them for help. I haven’t met a tabletop snob yet, at least in person.

The other game is a one-shot free RPG from here. It’s basically a Twilight-Zone inspired romp where the Dungeon Master is the government and is trying to replace the players with pod people. The players, once replaced, must help convert the other players. It’s a very tense don’t-know-who-to-trust scenario and makes for some great fun among friends. It can be played in about 3 to 4 hours, unlike Pathfinder which takes months, and in that respect it’s almost more a board game than an RPG — albeit one that engages in competitive storytelling. Best of all, it’s free! Also Pathfinder’s free but it’s a bit more intimidating if you haven’t played a game like this before. But seriously, try it out. It’s so much fun.

By Adam Schoelz

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayyousi

So I have a blog now. I being me, Adam Schoelz, and the blog being … well, something. Blogs are hard for me because while it is in my nature to blab, it is not in my nature to blab about myself, at least not to strangers on the Internet.

So I decided I wouldn’t.

I figured I’d set out to make everyone’s day just a bit more interesting with some fact or tidbit they didn’t know before. Or maybe they did, and I’m expanding on it. Or maybe I’m boring them. It doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that I have a blog, and the title right now is “A Little Bit Of Randomness?” I’d like to change it, so if you have any ideas just comment, or, you know, talk to me in person. We probably go the same school.

Anyway, I thought for a first topic it’d be good to introduce something I’ll reference later akin to introducing the idea of gravity before talking about rain.  It’s called Kickstarter, and it’s changing the way businesses get funding.

Short history lesson (I PROMISE): Since the turn of the 20th century, most businesses have raised funding for enormously expensive development — cool fighter jets, cool TVs, cool computers — by making promises about IPOs and P/E of those two ratios to this magical group of people called Investors, who somehow never actually care about the product but just want a sweet dividend. Companies have to please investors, because investors own the company in little tiny chunks and might chuck them off the Empire State Building if the company does something crazy.

Unfortunately, ‘crazy’ is often what the public wants — or at least the type of public that becomes ‘fans’ of companies. Really, it’s only been in the last two decades that investors and the public have been at odds, and it’s been over technology. Investors want companies to cater to what the market wants — iPods, Call of Duty, Windows — while the tech public wants companies to cater to what they want — Zunes, Baldur’s Gate 3, Linux.

It was quite a deadlock, but since it’s the age of the Internet, people found a workaround. Specifically, ‘people’ means Perry Chen, Yancey Stricker, and Charles Alder, and they did to funding what Wikipedia did to information. They crowdsourced it.

On Kickstarter it doesn’t matter if you’re John Gillis (our beloved webmaster) or Bill Gates: you present your idea to the people, and if they like it, they’ll give you money. Simple as that.

Now granted, it won’t be a ton of money, but something like $5 from 10000 people does add up. Groups set up funding goals, to raise x amount by y date, and if the goal is met, well then, let freedom ring! Games, experimental consoles, books, even some TV shows — it can all be found on Kickstarter.

The relevance of this, of course, is that many, many things I put on here will be projects funded via Kickstarter, and I think it’s a really cool tool that’s a great example of what the internet can be: a place where people, regardless of race, gender, or creed, can gain traction on their dreams because of the merit of those dreams. It’s pretty neato. Here’s a link.

To conclude, Kickstarter is awesome and more importantly, the stuff on Kickstarter is awesome, so take a look. I’ll leave you with a semi-relevant poem by Stephen Crane, who, for those of you who took or are taking AP US, also wrote Maggie: Girl Of The Streets, whatever prejudices that may impart. Chalk it up to the indomitable and foolish nature of Kickstarter:

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
“It is futile,” I said,
“You can never — “
“You lie,” he cried,
And ran on.

By Adam Schoelz

So, which kickstarter are you most inclined to donate to?

Teacher Sponsor: Peggy White (English Language Learner teacher)

Student Leaders: Maria Kalaitzandonakes (President), Mariam Yahya (Vice President), Vivien Li (Secretary)

Meeting dates: Usually the 1st and 4th Tuesday of the month after school from 3-4 p.m. Check the Student Announcements for confirmation.

Here’s a look at what we do.

Members of ICO race in a “Greek chariot race” after learning about Greek culture. Photo provided by Maria Kalaitzandonakes

ICO winter party, winners of Bingo! won fake mustaches.
Photo provided by Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Art by Richard Sapp

Formed in 1987, Operation Ivy is often accredited with being one of the first bands to ever fall into the genre of “Ska-Punk,” which is essentially a fast-paced reggae, mixed with hardcore punk. The mixture of the two styles assisted in the band’s following in both communities.

Mainly focusing on issues such as political corruption and flawed societies, Operation Ivy kept many aspects of hardcore punk in their music, leaving their unique lead guitar as the only thing to set them apart. Their music utilizes the short staccato notes of ska, which are incidentally the key aspect of the ska-punk genre.

Being a personal favorite of mine, Operation Ivy is by far one of the best bands ever to only release one album named after themselves in 1991. Combining screaming vocals bashing modern day society with a sped up reggae beat, the group essentially exemplifies a mix of Bob Marley and The Misfits. It’s the type of music that you have to just lie down and listen to, honestly thinking about the lyrics and whether or not you agree with them, as opposed to if the song has an appealing melody or a catchy chorus.

Having been an advocate for punk rock and this band in particular for quite some time, I can confidently say that this is one of the greatest hardcore punk bands of all time, mixing the classic rebellious political disagreement of punk rock with the enticing rhythmical essence of ska and reggae.

If you are interested in broadening your musical wheelhouse or just simply looking for music to make you hate everyday life, I would highly recommend this band, my particular favorite songs being “Room Without a Window”, “Unity”, and “Healthy Body”. I strongly encourage all readers to look into Operation Ivy, for I am fairly certain none of you will be disappointed.

By George Sarafianos

 By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the journalism (room 329), or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the 10 minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

Photo by Maria Kalaitzandonakes

On a blustery Saturday morning, I met my old friend at Lucy’s Corner Café. I walked in a little later than he did, and across the chaos that the diner held, I saw him sitting comfortably in a little burgundy booth. His head was leaning against the window, and he held a little white cup of coffee in his left hand.

I stopped for a moment, clogging up the aisle, hearing babies crying behind me and the beginnings of conversations between the customers coming in. I stopped for just a second to capture the moment. I hadn’t seen my friend in a while, and, too, it had been a while since I’d eaten here.

But, some places, and some people, regardless of the frequency I see them, just never get old. It’s comfortable, it’s perfect. His blue eyes mimicked the color of the sky and the walls he leaned up against. The clinking of the plates and the hushed gossip at the next table was somehow like a theme song from a show I used to watch. I knew all the words, and it made a lump in my throat from memories I thought I had forgotten.

I sat down across from my friend, and an enthusiastic waitress came over, asking me if I wanted any coffee. She called me hun. Oh how I do love this place. I got a short stack and eggs — over easy. He got a Denver omelet with jalapenos.

As she walked away, I heard her say to the boy at the next table, “Hunter, you want chocolate milk right?” And the whole morning was like this. Easy, comfortable, homey.

The older couple at the table to my right never spoke. Neither of them had a book, neither of them messed with a phone. They just sat across the booth from each other, with little half smiles on their faces. They didn’t need words. You could tell that they had been together so long, that nothing more needed to be said, their conversations were happening with their eyes.

The booth behind me was filled with raucous laughter. One wore a camo Chiefs hat; the other wore a fisherman’s cap and a plaid jacket. Both dug into their meaty breakfasts and teased one another endlessly.

The waitresses balanced plates from the tips of their fingers to crooks of their elbows. The plates were piled high with steaming pancakes and sizzling bacon. One Direction and Kelly Clarkson played in the back, and I think I saw a cook groove along with the music, even for just a second.

This is why I love this place. It’s not about the food, although it is unbelievably delicious. It’s about the atmosphere. From the second you enter, you leave your shell outside on the Columbia sidewalk. In Lucy’s, you’re more vulnerable. Like the hunting pals, the older couple and the shuffling bus boy, warm in his tan hat, my friend and I fit here.

Lucy’s is a place to down three cups of coffee. It’s a place to get sticky fingers and accidently get syrup in your hair. It’s a place to realize old friends will always know you best.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Ball2D2 on the right, this year’s robot in the center and C2 on the left form the Army Ants’ robot family. Photo by John Gillis.

Army Ants has been making great progress on this year’s robot, and they are now three weeks into the build season. The Base Level Robot contains all the basic necessities to compete at the competition. It is still a work in progress and will be continually improved through the rest of our build season.

Read the first Army Ants blog post to understand more about the team and FIRST Robotics.

On Saturday morning, Army Ants had the all three of their robots operating for a demonstration to all the parents of team members. C2, the team’s first robot built in 2011, B2D2, last year’s robot, and this year’s current work-in-progress robot were all buzzing around the conference room and the hallways showing off all of their abilities.

Basic driving with this year’s robot through joysticks has been completed. The team has been testing out and fine tuning settings to make the control of the robot more natural and easy to use. Below is a video of this year’s robot driving around in the conference room for the parents.

Army Ants’ students will be hard at working adding in the frisbee shooter mechanism and the climbing mechanism in the coming weeks.

By John Gillis

What do you think of this year’s robot?

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayoussi

On my first day of high school, my mother drove me to school. I felt the same lag that I usually felt on the first day; I was excited to see my friends, but I didn’t want summer to end. In the weeks leading up to freshman year, my friends and I conversed about classes, schedules and their nerves. They were scared and afraid, as most freshmen are, but I was different. I was ready for high school.

But as my mother drove to the front of the school and unlocked the door, I couldn’t get out. I was almost in tears.

Confused, my mother let me sit for a few moment, but eventually I had to leave. High school was a scary place, but like most things, it took some getting used to. I learned to love freshman year, and high school became enjoyable. By the time I was a senior, it seemed unimaginable that I was in my last year of the environment I had become so familiar with in the past four years.

While the fall was filled with excitement and novelty, I was hit with an incurable disease that spread like the plague. I had senioritis, and high school suddenly became boring and overdone. And while I continue to force myself to attend class on time and do my homework, thoughts of prom, graduation and college flood my mind.

And so, I present unto you, the top 10 things you become bored of by senior year.

10. Reading

I decided to take AP Literature and Composition my senior year because I have always loved to read. We read Greek plays and works of Shakespeare and short stories. And, at first, I was enthused. But as the year waned on, I stopped reading and started Sparknoting. Now, Sparknoting, unfortunately, is nothing new to me. However, I realized I had a problem when I was too lazy to even read the Sparknotes.  As hard as I try, reading is just too plain and tedious to focus on at this point in my high school career.

9. Listening

This one goes along with reading. If I can’t even keep the attention span to read my assignments or the cheat-sheets for my homework, then how am I supposed to listen during school? While one moment I will be incredibly focused and fascinated with integrals and antiderivatives, the next I’ll realize that my thoughts have wandered on to whether or not I locked my car or what I should eat for dinner that night or whether or not I should take a nap after school. By mid-senior year, listening just becomes too much.

8.  Doing extra credit

I’ve always held the philosophy of always doing extra credit, no matter what my grade was. And, up until this year, I have stuck to my philosophy. But when you’re in the middle of senior year and have been self-diagnosed with senioritis, why on earth would you want to do extra work? The answer is you don’t.

7. Studying

In the weeks leading up to midterms, I usually spend weeks preparing. This year, I had three rather large potential grade-changing finals to study for. Out of the three, I studied for one, and I studied for a solid hour and a half. It was definitely not responsible of me, but at the time, and to this day, that moment makes me incredibly proud since that hour and a half was the only time I ever studied all year.

6. College Emails

When I received my first college email at the end of sophomore year, I was absolutely ecstatic. It was a sign of growing up, and I was definitely ready to be considered an adult. I kept every single letter that came in the mail, and I would always take the time to read every single email that had anything to do with life after high school. But by the time you’re a senior, and you’ve already made your decision on what college you’ll be attending, it all becomes annoying and unnecessary.

5. Coming to school on time

When I was in elementary school, my pride and joy was the fact that every year at the end-of-the-year assembly, the principal would call my name to the stage and hand me my Perfect Attendance award. I received it in first, second, fourth and fifth grade and was in tears when I was missed a day of school in third grade because I had to get glasses. My ability to always be punctual and never be late was something I believed was one of my greatest qualities. However, when senior year comes, there is no harder struggle than getting out of bed in the morning. And as hard as it is to get my feet on the floor, it’s even harder to get to school on time. Coming to school on time just becomes tedious and annoying, and the reality of stepping into class late when the teacher has already begun teaching is not as terrifying as it was in elementary school.

4. Looking nice for school

When it’s hard to get up for school, it’s impossible to look nice. When senioritis hits, forget dresses and skirts and cute shoes, hoodies and sweatpants become your go-to outfit.

3. Taking required classes

When you’re a freshman, 24 credits to graduate doesn’t seem difficult to accomplish. Take a few English classes, take a few history classes, take a few math classes — eventually, you’ll be done. But deciding to delay taking classes like gym and personal finance and government can really put a downer on your senior year. Instead of taking enjoyable classes your senior year, you’re stuck walking laps in fitness walking (not that that’s not a good trade-off for a P.E. credit).

2. Cafeteria food

Senior year can take a toll on your pocketbook. After three years of cafeteria food, a fourth just doesn’t seem doable. And then there are options such as Panera, Jimmy John’s and Okii Mama that are obviously better than cafeteria food. I think you know where I’m going with this.

1. Doing homework

Senior year is just an excuse to not do homework. There’s something more appealing about sitting in your basement Sunday night, watching an endless array of movies on Netflix and eating countless bags of popcorn, instead of doing the pile of homework sitting in your room. And that’s the dirty truth about senior year.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

Art by Michelle Zhuang

Out of all the things I take for granted, the toilet might be the first on my list. It fulfills the basic need of humans around the globe, yet its importance is always overlooked, because we would much rather appreciate things such as “fine arts” or the “achievements” of our peers, even though none of these things will ever help us in a gastrointestinal emergency.

The realization came to me a few months ago, when my family went on a road trip to Chicago to visit family and take a break from our fast-paced lives. Along the way, we had to stop at a gas station in a shady suburb of St. Louis to take a break and freshen up.

As soon as I peered out the window and caught sight of several individuals who fit right in the “potential criminal” category, I knew I had to make the difficult decision of whether to wait another hour or so for a rest area or to risk my safety leaving the car.

The urgency of my situation forced me to take a risk and walk into the sketchy building. As soon as I realized the bathrooms were locked and I had to ask the male cashier for the key, I knew it would be an unpleasant experience. The bathroom was in horrible condition, and I ended up just washing my hands and leaving as quickly as I could.

It’s a day I don’t particularly like to remember. In fact, I chose to suppress the memory of my experience and forget that it ever happened.  But even though it was the one of the grossest experiences I have lived through, it made me think of how hard it is in other countries.

Having visited several foreign countries and seen bathrooms around the world, I know the toilet is a luxury not bestowed upon everyone. There are still many places that don’t have running water, and many of the facilities require people to squat on a dirt floor to take care of their business.

Toilet paper itself is a luxury as well. When visiting a foreign country, I have learned that packing quality toilet paper is often as essential as packing a toothbrush. You never know when you’ll be caught empty handed in a tough situation.

With the added blessing of running water and plumbing, we can easily relieve ourselves and send our waste far, far away, instead of having to cover it with a pile of dirt, as is tradition in some underdeveloped areas of the world.

Thankfully, we live in a country where even the most disgusting bathrooms have a comfortable toilet. We are truly blessed when it comes to our facilities, even though we might not realize their importance on a daily basis.

By Afsah Khan

Logo by Yasmeen El-Jayyousi

During the end of eighth grade to the beginning of ninth grade, I stopped growing. My height didn’t change from there on, and while I am now in high school, I live with the many disadvantages of being stuck in a 13-year-old body. And of course, my 4’11” height gives me many things to run into, struggle to reach and see over. I guess I’m just the perfect height.

When engineers designed clothing racks in stores, they were definitely thinking of me. Every rack hits about 4’9”: exactly where my forehead is. And, let me tell you, running into a metal clothing rack while on a mission to get a cute shirt is not the funnest thing that has ever happened. It actually leaves a huge bruise in the shape of a rectangle smack dab in the middle of your head. And that rectangular bruise is never easily covered up.

Speaking of bruises, I am also perfect height for what I like to call “an elbow to the face.” It’s a funny story actually; one that happens quite often. It always starts and ends the same: once upon a time, I was walking through the hallways of RBHS. Suddenly, the person in front of me decides to fix their shoulder strap to their backpack. And what do I get? A big, pointy funny bone to the nose. The person in front of me quickly apologizes and remarks, as usual, “Oh my goodness, I didn’t even see you there!” At this point, I want to reply, “No it’s okay, I’m just the height of your elbow. No problem. It’s my fault. Stupid genetics.”

You would think traveling in a car where there aren’t clothing racks or crowds of people would be less of a hassle. Yet, twice a day, that’s not the case: sunrise and sunset are the worst times for me to forget sunglasses in my car. Normal-height people don’t have a problem with the sun. They can just put down the sun visor and it blocks the sun from their line of vision. For me, this doesn’t work. Somehow, the sun sets and rises in the exact spot where the visor does nothing for me. I stretch my neck so the visor slightly hides the sun from me, but my sun visor never easily blocks out the harsh light, and my resulting punishment for my forgetfulness and my height added together is being blinded while trying to drive.

I think engineers hate me. They never design anything to work for my height. If I go into a sit-down restaurant, there are usually two types of seating: booths and tables. If the hostess sits my family at a table, my feet always, always, dangle. They can never reach the ground. The chairs never fit the height of my torso and legs equally. Yet, if the hostess sits us at a booth, I sink into the cushion, and the table is at my chest. But for a plus, my feet touch the ground in a booth. My solution? I don’t understand how anything good can come from having to sit on your knees as a 16-year-old. Nothing can. But hey, the waiter or waitress usually hands me the kiddy menu as a plus. Eating at a dine-in restaurant is always a lose-lose for me.

Engineers are not the only ones who forget me, seamstresses do too. When Homecoming and Courtwarming season comes around every year, I make my annual trip to the dress shops around Columbia. I find dresses made to hit girls at mid-thigh, which is where I want the dress to hit on me. However, it just can’t be that easy for me. I will find a dress I adore, and it will fit me perfectly, except for the length. I fall in love with the dresses that hit my knees or past that — I have around ten dresses in my closet that fit me like a prom dress. I can never win.

My height can be a disadvantage a lot of the time, but I have learned to just deal with the hand I’ve been dealt. The disadvantages are just a part of my life and a part of my height. Seriously, I couldn’t imagine being any taller.

By Alyssa Piecko

Art by Richard Sapp

This week’s band pick: Minor Threat

Favorite Song: “Minor Threat”

Being one of the most prominent hardcore punk bands of all time, Minor Threat, formed in 1980, and the D.C. based group were the pioneers of the “Straight Edge” lifestyle that so many now mimic today.

They were the first ever “Straight Edge” punk band to ever exist, and unlike other bands of the era, they steered clear of drugs and alcohol and focused on the integrity of their music. Their lyrics, which were set to harsh and distorted guitar chords, pointed out the flaws and obvious vices of society.

Minor Threat is one of my favorite music groups from the ‘80s, seeing as their lyrics ring all too entirely true, and they called out the youth of the nation for doing drugs simply as a fad. Years later, their lifestyle of straight edge has grown larger and larger until blossoming into a nation-wide movement, encouraging sobriety for the greater good of one’s self.

Their lead singer Ian MacKaye’s slightly noticeable speech impediment only enhances the band’s sound and image as a whole, giving it a “rough around the edges” feel that helps make hardcore punk so enticing to the many that buy into it.

There are few things more appealing than loud guitars and someone yelling angry lyrics in a crowded room.

By George Sarafianos

Next week’s meeting, however, is really going to kick off the year. We raised money for aid for the conflict in Syria last semester, but this semester we’ll be picking a new issue to raise money for, and anyone who comes to next week’s meeting will help decide what cause we help. At tonight’s meeting, we narrowed the causes we’d like to work on down to four, so come next week to help decide what issue we’re ultimately going to go with.

Plus, we’ll probably have free pizza (!!), which is always good, so everyone definitely come to Global Issues next week (Wednesday from 7-8 p.m.)! We’re excited to have an awesome semester.

By Urmila Kutikkad

Our club sponsor, Mr. Kirchhofer, was recently in a serious car accident, but is recovering well. Please keep him in your thoughts and hearts.

For those who don’t know, Army Ants is part of an international organization called FIRST (For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology). FIRST was founded more than 20 years ago by the inventor of the Segway, Dean Kamen, in order to change world culture so that science and technology careers would be cool and what students were interested in.

Army Ants is a team in FIRST’s FRC (FIRST Robotics Competition) division, which is designed for high school students to get industry-level experience through building a robot each year to compete against other teams at a regional, then international level. This past Saturday marked the start of the 2013 build season, which lasts only six short weeks.

FRC teams across the globe gathered to watch the game-reveal live online. FIRST announced that this year’s game is Ultimate Ascent. The original announcement came through the video below followed, by a detailed game manual on their official site.

Army Ants have been brainstorming ideas this week. They have designed several concepts in CAD (Computer Aided Design) to test out through computer simulation. This weekend the ideas will be finalized and a full prototype will be built over the next week.

We are just getting started and are looking forward to the coming weeks of the build season.

By John Gillis

If you are interested in joining the team, it is not too late. As long as you are are a freshman through a senior and live in Boone county, you can come to the Columbia Area Career Center after school any weekday to join.

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayoussi

When I was a younger, I worshiped the man known as Walt Disney. Walt Disney could solve all my problems with any of his films. I grew up yearning to be a princess and was constantly on the lookout for my prince.

For four straight Halloweens, I dressed up as Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and at least once a week I forced my family into a game of Disney Trivial Pursuit, in which I won each time. While I trudged through the depths of middle school and experienced high school, my Disney obsession eventually fell through.

However, on a night when I had nothing to do, my sisters and I rediscovered our Disney collection. While watching the movies, instead of thinking about how charming and enchanting the stories were, I couldn’t help but wonder about certain flaws that didn’t seem logical. And so, I present unto you, the top 10 unanswered Disney questions.

10. Does Aladdin take place in the future? (Aladdin)

I recently discovered that there is fan theory that Aladdin is actually post-apocalyptic. Although at first it seemed crazy, because I always initially believed that Aladdin took place in the past, it does make some kind of sense.

What if the magic carpet were just an invention created in the future, and what if Agrabah was some sort of fusion between the Middle East and India? Genie also states he’s been locked away in his lamp for the past 10,000 years, but he imitates supposed dead people such as Jack Nicholson and Groucho Marx, which means that they’re dead.

9. Did Boo’s parents think she was kidnapped? (Monster’s Inc.)

In Monster’s Inc., in Monstropolis, the monsters receive their energy from the cries and terrifying screams of young children, which they can come into contact with through the children’s closet doors, which are used as portals. Basically, one of the bad monsters tries to fit in extra “scare hours” and ends up letting a child loose into their world. The child spends the rest of the majority of the movie in Monstropolis.

While it may not have mattered much to me as a seven year-old when I first saw the movie in the theaters, looking back, I couldn’t help but wonder about Boo’s parents. In the movie, Boo was in Monstropolis for several days. How do parents not realize their two-year-old daughter is missing for several days? And even if Boo’s parents did realize she was missing, it would only make sense that when Sully returned Boo to her room at the end of the movie, there would be police officers present investigating the scene. Am I right?

8. Why wasn’t Maleficent invited to Aurora’s party? (Sleeping Beauty)

The whole conflict in Sleeping Beauty stems from the fact that Maleficent the wicked fairy was offended that the king and queen did not invite her to the christening of Aurora. During the gathering, Maleficent’s intrusion is followed by sarcastic remarks about how gracious she is that the king and queen left her out and then she curses Aurora that while she will indeed be beautiful and graceful, before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die.

Now, I understand that inviting the town’s wicked fairy to the christening of your first daughter (who happens to be the princess) may be a downer, but it seems to me that all Maleficent wanted was to not be left out. Maybe if she was invited, there would be no death curse on Aurora.

7. What happened to Prince Ali’s people? (Aladdin)

Aladdin asked Genie to be made a prince, but not to look like a prince. So naturally, when Prince Ali made his big arrival in Agrabah, he was accompanied by citizens from his newfound country. But what happened  to them? Did they go back to their new country? Not a dire question, but still, something to consider.

6. How did Pocahontas understand John Smith? (Pocahontas)

Growing up, I believed that the love story between John Smith and Pocahontas was timeless. I admired their forbidden love and their secret affairs. I was so in love with the story that I had to read Pocahontas’ biography in fourth grade after being informed that Pocahontas was, in fact, an actual person. After recently discovering that Pocahontas was available on Netflix, I immediately knew what to do with my Saturday afternoon.

Now, watching Disney films when you’re five and watching Disney films when you’re 18 are two quite different experiences. While I used to be captivated by John Smith and Pocahontas’ forbidden love when I was younger, this time I couldn’t help but wonder how Pocahontas and John Smith were able to communicate with each other.

In the movie, when John Smith first approaches Pocahontas, she can not understand him and is speaking a different dialect. However, after a few moments and a warm embrace, she can suddenly speak English. Now, while some Disney producers may try to defend this good old Disney magic by saying that it was the wind that surrounded the couple during their first embrace that gave her the ability to speak English, that still doesn’t explain the rest of her tribe.  If Pocahontas had a foreign dialect then obviously the rest of tribe does as well. Yet, when both sides gear up to fight, no one has any problem understanding anyone. Puzzling.

5. What was the magical rose’s initial purpose?  (Beauty and the Beast)

In the beginning of Beauty and the Beast, an enchantress disguised as an old beggar approaches the castle of the Beast, who, at the time, was still Prince Adam. She offers him the rose in exchange for shelter. When the selfish prince rudely turns the beggar away, she transforms the prince into a hideous beast, along with transforming his people of the castle.

The Beast is left with the newly enchanted rose and must have someone fall in love with him by the time the last petal falls on his 21st birthday. This movie is spectacular, but the motive behind the enchantress’ arrival at the castle seems like a sociological experiment. If the prince were to let the beggar woman into his castle, would the rose he received be magical? Was the rose just a plain rose until she decided to curse the prince? Did she know that the prince would turn her down, and she just picked an item she knew he would reject? The number of questions concerning this topic seem infinite.

4. How does having someone climb up your hair not hurt? (Tangled)

As young, sometimes fiesty, girls, when my sister and I were mad at each other, we would pull each other’s hair. And it would hurt. So, my only question for Rapunzel is, how does it not hurt if a guy climbs up a 73 foot tower, using only your hair as rope?

3. How are glass slippers a real thing? (Cinderella)

Everyone knows about Cinderella’s famous glass slippers. When Cinderella’s wicked stepmother locks her away the night of Prince Charming’s ball, Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother grants her wish with a beautiful carriage, dress and glass slippers. My only question is, how are glass slippers a real, believable thing?

It’s obviously not a sturdy slipper, since it easily shatters after being dropped by the Duke at the end of the movie. My skepticism may stem from the fact that I badly injured my foot by stepping on glass when I was eight years old, but it’s just hard for me to believe that someone is able to dance all night and then hurriedly flee down a flight of stairs without breaking the delicate glass or leaving the night with an insane amount of painful blisters.

2. Why are spells always broken by true love’s first kiss? (Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid)

In most cases, the curse that the protagonists of every Disney story get sacked with is the result of an evil being off their rockers, crazy with revenge. In The Little Mermaid, if Ariel didn’t kiss Eric in three days time, she would no longer be human and belong to the evil sea witch Ursula for the rest of her life. In Snow White, the evil queen poisoned Snow White with an apple, putting Snow White to an eternal sleep, only to be awoken by true love’s first kiss. Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty: the conflict is always solved by true love’s first kiss. As a villain, if you are wanting to do away with a person, why would your curse give the person an opportunity to awake and live happily ever after?

It doesn’t make sense to me.

1. How do princesses fall in love so quickly?

I think the reason that I was so obsessed with Disney movies when I was little was because I was so convinced that I would grow up to be just like every princess I’ve ever seen in a movie. They fell in love so quickly and so easily that it seemed flawless and perfect. My eight year old-self yearned for a fairy-tale adventure and a Prince Charming. While Disney’s purpose may be to enchant little children and families, little girls mistakenly grow up to believe that fairy tales are actually realistic. While I still adore Disney films and find them to be beautiful stories, girls should not have it engraved into their minds that love and a happily ever after happen after a matter of hours or days.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

Art by Michelle Zhuang

In the sweltering heat of a Pakistani summer, the only thing anyone wants is to find a way to keep cool.  With the Indian Ocean hugging the shoreline of the country, the humidity and the unforgiving sun combine to make conditions unbearable during the hottest months of the year.

Throughout the summers I spend in Pakistan, I like to take refuge in any air-conditioned room or sit in front of any fan on high speed. There is no better feeling in this world. The beads of sweat stop rolling down my face, and life seems perfect.

But perfection doesn’t last forever. Several times during the summer, power outages occur because of Pakistan’s poorly organized system of electricity and energy.  In a blink of an eye, all electricity is lost until who-knows-when. My euphoria disappears as the atmosphere begins to warm up, and the sweat starts making a comeback. That’s when I realized how ungrateful I am for the basic resources we have. I realized I take electricity, the simplest of things, for granted.

Imagine battling the bipolar weather pattern of Missouri without any sort of heating or cooling method. Imagine not being able to stay up past sunset, after the gift of natural daylight is gone. Imagine not being able to cook without physically building a fire first. Phones, electronic devices and any sort of technology would be completely out of the picture.

Imagining such a life is like watching a horrible nightmare come true. How would we live? After all, our daily routines rely on electricity. I doubt any one person I know has been able to successfully spend a normal day without it.  Electricity came into use for most households in the late 19th century, just a little more than a century ago. Mankind somehow survived several thousand years of living in the dark, but we can’t even attempt to comprehend how they did it.

If power grids across the globe collapsed tomorrow, would we be ready? Would we be able to adapt to a new life or not? The sad truth, though, is that electricity is embedded in our lives, and we take it for granted every single day, without even giving it a second thought.

By Afsah Khan

The Debate team adapted to many changes this year: a new coach, a new team and a new year. Yet with the numerous changes the team endured, the semester was still an exciting one.

Debate is a club that combines a variety of skills into a competitive atmosphere: logic, reasoning, teamwork, collaboration, speaking and research are just a few worth mentioning. The RBHS Debate team meets weekly to prepare and practice for upcoming tournaments, where we put our skills to the test against other talented high school students across Missouri. The events we compete in range from debates over foreign policy in the Middle East to humorous interpretations of popular books in what we call “individual events”.

Each topic for debate is released at the first of the month prior to the month we will debate, so that we have plenty of time for researching, preparing and practicing for the tournament. Tournaments are challenging and exciting and overall, incredibly fun.  At a tournament, typically held in Kansas City or St. Louis, you participate in a minimum of four debates or two individual event rounds and advance into final rounds depending on your performance in the earlier rounds.  In these highly-competitive atmospheres, RBHS has been fortunate enough to come out on top numerous times, and each tournament we grow closer as a team and raise our expectations.

Although this year has brought many challenges to the debate team, we have met success continuously at each tournament this season.  We kicked off the year at Park Hill High School in Kansas City on Oct. 19, where we debated over the mitigation of climate change. Juniors Whitney Cravens and Sara Ashbaugh took home the first place win in public forum debate, an exciting way to kick off the year.

In mid-November, RBHS debate traveled to the highly acclaimed tournament co-held by Clayton High School and Ladue High School in St. Louis, where captains Stephen Turban and Andrew Hutchinson won third place in champ public forum debate after debating extensively over foreign policy in the Middle East.  In individual events, Joe Pratt broke to supersession in Student Congress, and Stephen Turban received 4th place in Impromptu Speaking. In December, we closed the first half of our season at Pattonville High School in St. Louis, where Sara Ashbaugh received third in prose.

This semester, we look forward to an exciting couple of tournaments and hope to share our experiences with other RBHS students, by expanding the number of debaters on our team.  Debaters come from diverse backgrounds and have a wide range of personalities: there is no “stereotypical” debater.  Therefore, any and all are welcome to join at any moment of time and are guaranteed to have a worthwhile experience on the debate team as we venture towards becoming one of the top high school speech and debate teams in the state of Missouri (while having a blast at the same time).

Our next challenge is held at Liberty High School in Kansas City, where we will travel January 18^th to debate the Supreme Court decision in Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission.

By Whitney Cravens

Bluestem Missouri Crafts resides on South Ninth Street. Photo by Asa Lory

When I was a child there were two classifications for stores. The “you can’t touch anything in here, or I’m going to have to sell you to the store owner to pay them back” kind and the “you can run around as long as no one is glaring at us” kind.

Blue Stem is a different kind of store.

Many things are fragile, sure: beautiful blown glass hanging in the window, African-looking sculpture standing next to the bowls and even animals made of weird car parts and metal bits. But there are knitted hats to try on and kaleidoscopes to play with. There are piles of magnets to look at and earrings to hold up to my then unpaired lobes.

And everything is so beautiful that I remember my feet always became seemingly rooted to the spot, my neck craned back as far as possible to try to see the mobiles hanging from the ceilings.

Blue Stem is the ultimate art store because it is not “adult only.” It is not highbrow and stuck-up nosed; it is bright and open and full of life.

This store is exactly what is so great about Columbia’s  “The District.” Older couples waltz in, buying gorgeous ceramic mugs for their cup of Colombian. Parents with babies on their hips play with the wooden toys and buy fat scarves to protect their kiddo’s neck from Missouri winters. Teenagers, too, enter shyly and finger the paper sculptures on the shelf.

Art is this alive beast that wraps its ever-growing tentacles around us. Blue stem is like that. So fully alive, so fully delightful.

As a kid, the only word I could find for its beauty was, “Ooh.” I thought as I grew up I’d find something better, but maybe, just maybe, that primal, emotional, can’t-keep-it-in noise of excitement is the only thing that can describe it.

Ooh!

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

What is the best thing you have seen at the store? I’d love to hear about it. Better yet, tweet @RBHSBearingNews a photo.

It’s a bleak and a cruel picture that’s being painted, one that seems to get progressively worse with time. But what’s worse is the apparent apathy people seem to have toward the situation. Far more than the entire student body population of MU has died within scarcely more than a year, and no one seems to care. Though many governments around the world may have their metaphorical hands tied (due to political complications), we, the people, don’t.

And that’s why Global Issues Club picked Syria as their project for first semester this school year. Global Issues ventures that though the problem may be thousands of miles away in a country that’s nothing like our own, that’s not what matters. What matters is that lives are being massacred, and people are being deprived of those rights we call fundamental to being human: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Global Issues ventures that because of this deprivation, we all have a duty to help.

So, first semester, Global Issues decided to help by setting up several fundraisers that benefited an organization called Life for Relief and Development. The organization is a non-profit humanitarian charity that is “devoted to providing humanitarian aid to people regardless of race, color, religion and cultural background”. So Global Issues had pancake bake sales and game nights and movie nights to raise money for this wonderful organization, specifically toward the work it’s doing for Syrian refugees.

Though Global Issues Club may seem like a rather depressing thing to come to, it’s really not. Yes, we focus on helping people who are in grim situations, but we have fun while we’re doing it. We spend a few meetings learning about the situation, then we go about planning fundraisers and making posters and spreading the word.

You should come to Global Issues, every Wednesday evening from 7-8 p.m. Meetings are a lot of fun, never without great people or a ton of good food. Plus, you get to do your share in helping humanity out, and that’s never a bad feeling.

By Urmila Kutikkad

In late September, we invited Invisible Children to come to RBHS and screen their movie in the planetarium for students to watch. The majority of the sophomore World Studies classes attended the screenings, but we also kept it open to outside students. The planetarium was packed for both hours! Invisible Children sent their MidWest “team,” which consisted of three volunteers as well as a young man from Uganda who had personally been affected by the LRA violence. For more information, click here. Jafri, from Uganda, had been captured by the LRA and had been a child warrior under Joseph Kony. Watching the movie and hearing his experiences were truly moving. Being able to talk to him one-on-one after the screening too was just such a fantastic experience and was a real treat. I mean, how often are you going to get the opportunity to talk to someone like that? Not often is the correct answer.

So that was kind of the kickstart of EAC. After the screening, there was a lot of interest in the club, and we decided that we wanted to have more concrete goals and a clearer direction for the club.

So we decided that our first semester goal would be to raise funds, and we were planning on getting more involved during second semester. Raising funds for what, you might ask? Well come January (which is in 2 days now), an English teacher from the Gulu Senior Secondary School in Kampala, Uganda will travel to Columbia as part of a teacher exchange program. She will stay with our sponsor, Katherine Sasser, and shadow her to learn more about our schooling system. You can read more about it here.

But this is our first big project as the EAC. To bring Adong Jacqueline (the teacher) to RBHS, we needed to raise $1,000. We were not, however, successful in this goal. Sasser paid all of the money up front, but we still want to raise the money to pay her back. So even though we wanted second semester to be more about activism and involvement, I think we’re really just going to focus on raising the rest of the money — which you should definitely help us with! Keep an eye out for any EAC events to help us make this teacher exchange a success.

On the brighter side, we’re still SUPER excited about Adong’s visit. We have already planned for the club to get together at the Sassers’ house and cook up a big, typical America meal for her and eat together. I’m especially excited about that! One, because I love food; two, because I think food is a great way to bring people together; and three, because I love food. I guess you could say I’m a “foody.” But if you join EAC, then you would get to sit down and have a meal with a Ugandan teacher. That’s a once-in-a-life-time opportunity, that is. Don’t miss out.

Just being involved with EAC thus far has led to meeting some amazing people and learning so much more. You can still get involved! We’re an exceptionally open group of people and would love to see some new faces. So don’t hesitate to join us. Help us make a change.

By Trisha Chaudhary

I know what you’re thinking. East Africa Coalition? But, I’m not East African. Alas! You don’t have to be East African to join. In fact, none of the roughly 10 members (six of which are officers) are East African! Shocker, I know.

EAC’s true purpose is to help those living in East Africa. We are sponsored by RBHS English teacher Katherine Sasser who has traveled to and worked with the people of Uganda herself. After talking to a few of us about her travels, we decided we wanted to further help these people.

Initially we wanted to focus on helping the people affected by the violence from the Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda by partnering with the organization Invisible Children. After some deliberation, however, we decided we didn’t want to limit ourselves. Though Invisible Children was doing a multitude of honorable things, we wanted to be able to work with many different organizations and focus on many different groups of people in need.

Thus, we created the East Africa Coalition.

When brainstorming all of the things we wanted to do with the club, we came up with a hefty list, ranging from raising funds to help Invisible Children put up communication towers to help the people affected by the LRA, to bringing a Ugandan teacher to Columbia and even straying to possibly taking a “mission” trip to somewhere in East Africa. Though these are just ideas, I hope you can get the gist of what we want to do as an organization.

So there you have it: our mission as the EAC. I hope you’ll take the time out to check us out, because I’m almost positive you’ll find that we’re worth your while.

By Trisha Chaudhary

[Show as slideshow]

By Kelsey Harper

photo by Manal Salim

Rather than my usual scroll through the Food and Drinks tab on Pinterest, I recently decided to look at the DIY projects the site had to offer. After about an hour of searching, all I found myself doing was poring over such complex, yet creative crafts, labeled as “Do-it-yourself,” but realistically, I knew I would never be able to recreate them, regardless of how hard I tried.

I finally stumbled upon this amazingly cute DIY mustache mug that even I thought I was potentially capable of making with my unfortunate lack of artistic skill.

All you’ll need is:

• 1 solid colored ceramic mug (Your choice of color, but I went with a plain white)
• Scissors
• 1 sharpie marker
• Tape
• Print-out of a cartoon mustache*

*You can use any mustache style of your choosing, but the one I used is from here.

photo by Manal Salim

To make your own fun mug:

1. Take the cartoon mustache print-out and fold it in half. Take the scissors and snip the center of the mustache picture to make a hole to start cutting out the mustache from the inside. You want to then cut the black mustache part out, thus leaving the white outside with a hole for the mustache stencil.

2. Place the mustache stencil wherever you would like on your mug, and then tape the stencil down securely.

3. Color in the mustache-shaped hole with the sharpie marker, carefully outlining and filling in the mustache to the best of your ability. Allow to dry for a minute or two to avoid any smudging.

4. Carefully remove the stencil from the mug by taking off the tape, and you will be left with a mustache on your mug. At this point, you can take the marker and touch up any areas that may have not been drawn on smoothly, to create the perfect mustache design.

photo by Manal Salim

5. Lastly, place the mug into the oven at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. After this, your beautiful mustache design will be able to stay on your mug. I would recommend just hand-washing the mug, as I read on Pinterest that sometimes the dishwasher can actually slightly rub off the sharpie design.

After completing this project, I can now look back on the activity and feel proud of myself for actually being able to fulfill an artistic task with some decent results. I can personally just imagine how this little adorable mug will cheer up my winter nights as I curl up with a blanket and a mustache mug full of hot tea. Not only can you enjoy this DIY yourself, but also, a mustache mug could be the perfect, quick and easy gift for a friend, family member or anyone else special to you this holiday season, or really anytime at all.

And by no means should you feel restricted to draw just a mustache, as this trick can be used with absolutely any desired design.

photo by Manal Salim

With simple items that I was quickly able to find in my house, I was able to create a fun DIY project that I am sure I will enjoy. So, whether you plan to keep this mug or give it away, I would highly recommend giving this idea a try, as I am pretty sure you’ll love it as much as I do.

Source here.

By Manal Salim 

Do you have a favorite Pinterest? I want to hear about it.

Since the conception of this idea, Disney has released many different animatronic screens and sets that are featured in all of their parks. For example, one of the more recent attractions, Toy Story, includes a larger than life-size Mr. Potato Head. See him in action below.

From my personal experience of visiting various Disney parks, I have seen many people really enjoying interacting with all of these life-like robots. Just talking with the animatronic was still not enough though, and Disney is taking it one step further. In Disney Research Labs, there is a robot that has the ability to play catch with anyone who passes by. Using some advanced software and hardware, the robot will be able to track people and interact with them. See just the skeleton of a robot working below.

I know I can’t wait to see these in the Disney parks. Animatronics make waiting in line for Disney rides all the more interesting.

By John Gillis

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayoussi

In elementary school, my favorite time of year was December. I loved Christmas, and getting presents from Santa was great, but the reason I longed for Dec. 1 each year was because that was the day that my school opened their holiday shop.

For the entire month, the school magically transformed our science lab into a winter wonderland with gifts for us to purchase.

Each year, I would receive $20 from my parents to purchase gifts for my family and friends. The majority of the holiday shop was filled with “Best Mom/Dad/Friend” trinkets and was what my parents and friends expected, but I strayed from the said trinkets and was attracted to the more unusual gifts.

One year, my friends received Looney Tunes pens. I gave both my sisters Harley Davidson key chains; my dad received a miniature flashlight, and my mom got a coffee mug with Santa’s face on it. Needless to say, I eventually became known as an awful gift giver.

As I grew older, I eventually changed my ways and began to put more thought into my gifts, but it wasn’t until I was confronted with my terrible gift-giving habits.

And so, I present unto you, the top 10 worst holiday gift ideas.

10. DVDs, CDS

The problems with DVDs and CDs is there is an endless amount of different DVDs and CDs out there. Unless you know the person very well, it would be hard to tell if the person already has it. The world of multimedia is also rapidly evolving, and between DVDs, Netflix, internet music streaming and On Demand, purchasing DVDs and CDs is too complicated and too risky.

9. Gift cards

Now, don’t get me wrong, on the receiving side of the spectrum, gift cards are great. Honestly, I would much rather receive gift cards than money, but giving someone a gift card as a gift is a cop out. It shows that you put no effort into the thought of the gift, or that you just don’t want to take the time to find out what makes that person genuinely happy, which typically defeats the purpose of gift giving.

8. Chocolate

Chocolate is wonderful, but it doesn’t last forever. And if the person you’re giving chocolate to is normal, it probably won’t last for more than an hour. Regardless of the type of chocolate, whenever I receive this gift, I end up non-stop stuffing my face with the stuff until it’s gone, and then I feel bad about myself because not only is my chocolate gone, but I consumed a large amount of it in a short amount of time.

7. Used clothing

Hand-me-downs are bad enough, but to give someone used clothing and call it a gift violates all unsaid gift-giving policies. Not only does giving someone used clothing show that you’re incredibly cheap, but also that you’re lazy and careless; not the best qualities to show at Christmas time.

6. Socks

Socks are one of those stereotypical items that you’re taught never to give someone as a gift. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with socks, and some people actually do enjoy getting them, but the thing with socks is that they’re a staple item. Staple items, such as socks, are something that is continually bought throughout the year, and while it may be essential, most giftees are hoping for something that they don’t buy all year and have multiple pairs of.

5. Gag gifts

Personally, I love giving gag gifts simply because it fulfills my enjoyment. However, with gag gifts, you run the risk of the other person thinking likewise of the gesture. And while gag gifts may be incredibly funny and showcase your own wittiness, it is only funny for the person receiving the gift for a short amount of time and eventually becomes old.

4. Worthless gadgets

If you are a frequent reader of my blog, you’re familiar with my feelings concerning worthless gadgets.

They’re worthless.

Sure, a balance bracelet or an electronic head massager may seem like a really cool gift in the store, because hey, who wouldn’t be ecstatic waking up on Christmas day to a brand new balance bracelet, but I guarantee you that feeling of excitement will pass when the holidays are over and they realize they are now the paltry owners of a battery-powered device designed to massage your head.

3. Subliminal messaging gifts

Naturally, we all want to be helpful, and sometimes it can be difficult to approach someone about improving their lifestyle. However, the holidays are not the time to give your overweight friend a dieting cookbook or your boyfriend/girlfriend a fresh bottle of ProActive. While it may undoubtedly be under good intentions, the holidays are a time made to feel good about yourself, and the opinions of the giftee’s self and yourself may change for the worst.

2. Holiday decorations

Part of the fun of the holiday season is putting up decorations. The aspect of decorating helps to make the upcoming holiday season a reality. However, no matter how cute a Santa Claus ornament or Rudolph stocking may be, the holidays are pretty much over the second the gift is received, and the giftee is forced to wait a whole year to use their said gift. There’s no fun in that.

1. Regifted items

Regifted items are the lowest of the low. Even if you received a foot tanner or an electric hair braider the Christmas prior, and eventually experienced the familiar emotional aftermath that comes along with receiving awful gifts, it is no reason to pass it along to someone else. Regifted items are like an awful disease, and no one wants a disease for Christmas.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

The emotional roller-coaster that marks the last few weeks of a semester makes us forget the simpler things in life, but it also makes us appreciate them more when we are given a reminder. In the past couple of weeks, I realized how much a simple act of kindness means to me. They’re small gifts that remind us of what life is really about, and it hurts to think that I take these simple acts of kindness for granted.

I had a bad day last week, to say the least. What helped me make it through that day was mainly the attitude of the people around me. People who are willing to put aside their own worries to console me when I’m stressed. People who are always willing to lend a hand to help me. One of my friends wrapped me in a warm hug and consoled me. Several other classmates gave me loving smiles as they passed by in the halls. To top it all off, a big bag of M & M’s was waiting for me in the journalism room. These small details made me realize something I hadn’t given much thought to before.

There are random acts of kindness all around us. It only takes a minute to open our eyes and actually see them.

Whether it’s a stranger opening a door for me or a friend giving me a warm smile and a hug on a bad day, it’s incredible to think of how significant the impact of such a favor can have. They can truly turn a frown upside-down and wipe away a tear. A pleasant atmosphere can change even the most dismal mood and fill it with laughter.

However, these kind gestures always seems to go unnoticed. People don’t seem to acknowledge them. Even I realize that I am too involved in my own problems to give any thought to the kindness that’s always around me.

It’s a shame to think that acts of kindness are overlooked so easily and are given little merit. We should all take the time to stop and think about how nice people are, whether they are close friends or family members or random strangers. But instead, we take the kindness around us for granted.

By Afsah Khan

Art by Paige Martin

Setting out at 10:30 on Saturday morning, our initial plan was to go to Sumits Hot Yoga. After hearing lots of praise for the high intensity exercise, we wanted to check it out. However, after Ashleigh inadvertently insulted an instructor, we hurriedly left the studio and decided to try something different. With few options on the table at 11 a.m. on a Saturday, we decided to take the five-minute trip to the closest Walmart, where we purchased a Dancing With the Stars cardio workout movie.

Returning to Trisha’s house, we popped the DVD into the TV and got started. Rather than playing all of the dance workouts (Mambo Mix, Hollywood Jazz and the Hustle & Pop) consecutively, we decided to do them one by one, allowing for short breaks in between.

Three main instructors, different for each dance, filmed all the dances in a studio with four back-up dancers, each of whom were dressed in a ridiculous outfit. Whether it was a black body suit with cut-outs or a sports bra with a fringe shrug on top, the wardrobe choices of the cast served as a big source of entertainment. Already wary of the DVD, all we were thinking now was, “What did we just get ourselves into?”

Starting with the Mambo Mix, the instructor (wearing a bright red mini skirt, a long sleeved belly shirt and black boots) started us off with challenging hip movements that we would have typically associated with a complicated Spanish dance. Not to mention, the foreign instructor’s deep, sultry and heavily accented voice was difficult to understand. After many failed attempts and sexy hip movements, we skipped onto Hollywood Jazz, hoping that an American dance workout would be more doable.

The instructor, this time Australian with perfectly quaffed hair, was slightly easier to follow and nauseatingly more peppy. Looking down at our Nike shorts and tank tops, stringy hair and tangible frustration, this lady was not helping. Rigorously lifting, turning and kicking, most of our moves were ridiculous, even laughable, at best. To make matters worse, due to the difficulty of the moves, the majority of our time was spent standing in front of the television, trying to figure out what to do next. By the end, we had managed to complete only handful of moves (to our dismay), that pushed us to our limits. With only a few moves, the workout became more obvious, as we struggled to keep up to pace.

Shimmying into the next and final dance, we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was unlike the previous two and actually like an actual workout class. Stepping and clapping to the beat, the next 20 minutes soon slid by, and before we knew it, the video was over.

Overall, while the video wasn’t out favorite workout, it did have its benefits. Along with mild cardio exercise, the dances worked to tone the whole body. Meticulously working the core especially, the hip movements and stretches throughout complimented each other perfectly. So while this video wasn’t necessarily a high-intensity workout, it definitely worked toward creating a leaner you.

By Ashleigh Atasoy and Trisha Chaudhary

Click here to view the Rock Bridge Reaches Out Infographic

The YMCA asked for a five dollar donation per letter, and the program is a fundraiser for the YMCA’s youth activities, which includes tutoring.

[Show as slideshow]

By Kelsey Harper, RBRO correspondent

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Music by Asa Lory

All it takes is one click. One click on the “Food & Drink” tab under “Categories” on Pinterest to change your whole outlook. Once you get a look at all of the dessert options that Pinterest has to offer, no longer will normal brownies or chocolate chip cookies satisfy cravings. Chocolate turtle cookies, peppermint dream cake, or better yet, slutty brownies will take over. Watch this video for an easy tutorial of making slutty brownies: the latest dessert epidemic plaguing the boards of many users on Pinterest. This cookie-brownie combination is an easy alternative to other boring treats, and your friends will love you for it. So you’re welcome.

By Manal Salim & Trisha Chaudhary

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the activities office or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the ten minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

And so, I present unto you, the top 10 worst As Seen On TV Products.

10. Conair Quick Braid Twist Braiders

In second grade I didn’t know how to braid hair. My mother would constantly try to teach me, but I just wasn’t able to grasp the concept. So, to replace actually giving up on me, she bought me a pink Conair Quick Braid Twist Braider that I saw on an infomercial months earlier.

You could say I was ecstatic.

Not only could I now braid my own hair, but I could do multiple braids (because I was quite a stylish 2nd grader, and that was the stylish thing to do). After practicing on my dolls for a good ten minutes, I parted a section of my hair into three and carefully secured each section into its clasp in the braider. I excitedly flipped the switch to ‘on’, anxiously wondering what my braid would look like and how long it would take. In a matter of seconds, the three sections of my hair was not a braid, but a giant, entangled catastrophe. Not only did the braider fail to put my hair in a braid, but also entangled itself into my hair. I spent the next ten minutes in tears, while my mother painfully attempted to detach the plastic device from my head. Ten years later, I’m pretty sure they have stopped selling the Conair Quick Braid Twist Braider, and it’s probably because thousands of broken-hearted second graders’ parents complained that it left their child’s hair unbraided and in a tangled mess.

9. Topsy Turvy Tomato Planter

My mother tends to go through phases, cooking phases, specifically. For weeks, my mom went through a bread phrase, and she baked it several times a day, everyday. After that, it was making her own lasagna and then strawberry short cake. During the summer, one of my mother’s said phases was growing her own vegetables. It actually became one of my favorite phases since our house was constantly replenished with fresh vegetables. However, when we moved into our new house in Columbia, and my mother was told that our neighborhood association would not permit vegetable gardens, she used this as an opportunity to purchase a good old As Seen On TV item.  My mother would find a way around the rule by planting her tomatoes with the Topsy Turvy Tomato Giant. She bought several, and placed them in our kitchen, on our deck and on our window sills. Not only was that thing supposed to provide us with home grown tomatoes in a timely fashion, but I’m pretty sure it also promised that these said tomatoes would be rather large. After waiting a whole summer for these supposedly fantastic tomatoes, they never grew and months of eating tomato-less sandwiches was for nothing.

8. Ab Roller Slide

When my mom first purchased this when I was in elementary school, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I had no idea what its purpose was, but it was cool. My sister and I would sit aside and watch my parents sweat and struggle to use it, waiting for them to eventually give up and throw it aside. And when they did, we would eagerly take turns playing with it. We didn’t use it purposefully, though; we used it for a scooter, and we still didn’t understand why our parents struggled so much with it. What was so hard about getting on your knees and rolling that thing back and forth with your arms? But years later, after scouring our basement for exercise equipment and falling upon my sister’s and my beloved ‘scooter’ I decided to give it a whirl.

Maybe it’s the fact that I am just not an exercise equipment kind of gal or that I’m lazy and never put much effort into my workouts, but I definitely could not tolerate more than five minutes of using this product. My back was sore, my shoulders were sore and my arms were sore, but I felt nothing in my abs. The soreness continued into the second day, but I decided to try again, considering that the day may have been a fluke. After another five minutes, my abs still felt nothing. This product could still be a good investment, but only if you’re nine and in need of a new scooter.

7.  Trendy Top

Luckily, I was never the owner of a Trendy Top and for a good reason. It’s dumb.

The concept of having a piece of cloth that wraps around your waist and only reaches your midriff to avoid exposing the back and stomach area seems like one of those ideas that sounds better in your head as opposed to out loud. If you’re really concerned with someone seeing your back or midriff, do the normal thing and just buy a camisole.

6. Forever Lazy

Now, I have nothing against the Snuggie. A blanket with sleeves is a ridiculous idea, but it serves its purpose.  But when there’s a blanket that covers your arms, your legs and your head like the Forever Lazy does, it doesn’t become a blanket anymore, but more of a fleece bodysuit, which is ridiculous.  If you’re really that cold, do the sensible thing and wear a hoodie and sweat pants. And if you are going to be one of those people who choose to wear a Forever Lazy, contrary to what the infomercial suggests, don’t go public with it.

5. Pajama Jeans

Unfortunately, in terms of pants, you can’t have the best of both worlds. Although Pajama Jeans tries to get you to believe that with their product it is possible to have a pair of fancy presentable pants while being comfortable all at the same time, Pajama Jeans are truly just tacky.

4. Shake Weight

For some reason, seeing exercise equipment on infomercials gets me. I’m temporarily my ten-year-old gullible, As Seen On TV product-loving self again, and I’m forced to restrain myself from picking up my cell phone, taking out my check book and calling the 1-800 number. And the Shake Weight was no different.

So, imagine my excitement when my mother returned home from Bed, Bath & Beyond, Shake Weight in hand. I quickly threw my sports bra and Nike shorts on, grabbed the Shake Weight and ran to the fitness part of our basement. Finally, I thought, a tool where I can do as little work as possible and still get into shape.

Wrong.

Now, maybe the Shake Weight actually does work, and I’m just completely incompetent to anything that has to do with exercise (which is a very viable possibility), but it definitely did not work out for me. For six minutes everyday, I stood in the same position and shook it like the infomercials displayed, but it wasn’t until a week later that my sister informed me that I wasn’t even shaking the weight correctly.  How was I supposed to know that there’s a correct way to shake a weight?  Needless to say, it didn’t work for me, and from my perspective, it’s too complex to work for other people.

3.  Pillow Pet/Dream Lite

I’m going to take the liberty and combine the Pillow Pet and the Dream Lite.  One’s a pillow, which is also a stuffed animal, and the other one is a pillow that has lights in it. I guess if you have a four-year-old, it’s an okay investment to keep them entertained for a good two weeks, but honestly, for the price, that’s an expensive night light / ‘pet’.

2.  Shamwow

The Shamwow is a towel that claims to hold 12 times its weight. I repeatedly watched Vince Offer show his audience that with the Shamwow you would be able to soak up any liquid on any surface with ease. In his infomercial, he pours a bottle of soda onto a piece of carpet, and seconds later, he merely places the Shamwow on top of the carpet, and without applying pressure, lets it sit on the carpet. After a few seconds, he removed the Shamwow and twisted it, pouring out a large majority of the soda from the Shamwow. He then pressed the Shamwow back onto the carpet, and after a matter of seconds, the soda stain was removed. I was in awe. I had to know how the Shamwow worked. So, naturally, I dragged my mother to the As Seen On TV section of Walmart and we purchased two Shamwows. My sister and I eagerly came home and spilled an assortment of different liquids onto our hardwood floors, countertops and my dog in an attempt to mimic what we saw on the infomercial. Long story short, the Shamwows did not work, and my mother was very displeased with her newly-found dirty kitchen.

1. Bumpits

When my friends and I first saw the Bumpits infomercial, it became a long-running joke. We mocked the people in the infomercial and could not believe it when we saw a 40-year-old woman with blonde hair in the grocery store, wearing a large, obvious brown Bumpit. Yet, when we saw that a store was selling two boxes of Bumpits for five dollars, we could not pass up the opportunity, and we purchased the Bumpits. Bumpits make your hair look unnaturally large and cone-shaped, and for people with thin hair, wearing a Bumpit is incredibly obvious. Out of all the outrageous As Seen On TV products in my house, this one is definitely the most ridiculous and can be partially blamed for sparking one of the worst fashion trends of the decade.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

Art by Michelle Zhuang

For those of you who don’t know me, I have an incredibly short attention span. It’s almost impossible for me to complete a task without getting distracted multiple times in the process. So naturally, sitting through a 90-minute-long class is an incredibly painful ordeal.

It was during one of these torturous classes that I started to really notice the people sitting around me. I found it intriguing how people differ from one another, both physically and mentally. And that’s when it hit me. One of the things I take for granted is how diverse and different everyone is, because of how insignificant it seems to be in everyday life.

Out of the 7 billion people that walk on Earth every day,  no two are ever alike; like the dainty snowflakes that fall out of the sky in the winter, every person on the planet is unique. Even twins can be easily distinguished from one another because of the differences in their personalities, tastes and styles. Although people can be similar, they are never the same.

When we’re children, we notice that people are different, but we don’t ever see what that means. And I’m not entirely sure we understand this when we’ve grown up, either.  I’ve seen and heard many people who blow these differences out of proportion.  Some think of people who are different as wrong. Some feel they can only talk to people who are like them and have the same opinions and feelings.

What bothers me is that these people are clearly missing the point. There is diversity for a reason. People are different for a reason.

Everyone is unique, and everyone has their own talent, their own opinion, their own ideals and their own personal style. If people didn’t have their own unique spin on life, the world would be a bland and tasteless place. Every classroom on Earth would have the same people, with the same abilities, hoping for the same future. Every household would have the same type of family, and every individual would have the same beliefs and opinions.

The world is not meant to be a big, tasteless blob. If diversity did not separate people into different social, political and cultural groups, the world would be like a plain pancake with no chocolate chips or syrup — boring and unappealing.

In the past sixteen years of my life, I’ve met many people with different backgrounds, different experiences and different opinions. And all of them are wonderful because of it. But every day, I take the differences between my peers and I for granted. Their special aspects get pushed to the back of my mind. But differences really make life a lot more interesting.

So, for the next time you get bored in class, you know what to do.

By Afsah Khan

Art by Richard Sapp

Quick Details:

What – Lighting of Columbia College 

When - Friday, Nov. 30 at 4:45 p.m.

Where – Columbia College main campus

When we are kids, the holiday time was a fast paced whirl of magic. Come December, Santa Claus’ squeaky black boots and big rumbling belly occupied my daydreams. At nighttime, I would fall asleep to the sound of the rapid tapping of reindeer hooves. I used to count down the days on my calendar with a big fat black marker, waiting in unbridled anticipation until the number would read Dec. 24 – Christmas eve, possibly the most magical day of them all.

Slipping and sliding over the wood floor in my footie pajamas, I fell to a stop in front of the toweringly tall tree and closed my eyes tight. I squished my fists at my sides and thought as hard as I could, “Cabbage Patch Kid. Cabbage Patch Kid. Cabbage Patch Kid,” or whatever my dream gift for that year was, over and over – praying that a jolly man living at the North Pole would hear me.

This magic seems to fade as we grow older. Maybe it gets squashed by the now repeating thought of, “Finals. Finals. Finals.” Maybe when we finally find out the white bearded man is really our well-intentioned, white-lying parents, it simply flies away. I guess it could just be the cycle of Christmas; we lose our magic until we have children of our own to pass it on to.

But, there are times when I am unwilling to give up this feeling: the toe-tingling and the broad smile stretching across your face that comes when you have an overwhelming belief in something enchanting. And there is one place in Columbia that will give it back to you.

Columbia College during Christmastime is perfect. It has white lights strung up on every possible surface. The roofs make little glowing triangles, and the sides of the buildings line the dark night. Here, stretching across frost-covered ground, is my Columbian castle. The turrets are majestic and seem to point to the sky, putting in a good word for the countless spoon-under-pillow-wielding children across the city. Get this: there are over 4,500 white lights in Columbia College’s display.

And as every royal place should, they have a beginning ceremony. Slowly, families cross the moat. The straight, yellow-lined “draw bridge” is very inviting. The lighting ceremony begins with the speaking of a few hushed words and a serenade of wintertime carols. The voices ring out into the cold night air, and one lucky elf hits the switch. In a single moment, the entire place lights up and every single person believes in magic once more.

Luckily for you, you have not missed this moment yet. It is this Friday! You can participate in this amazing community event.

Go. And for a few moments, ignore your pressing finals. Ignore the college applications. Ignore the scholarship deadlines. And all of the other things hanging over our heads, ignore them too. Look up at the lights as they click on, and look down at the faces of the kids who are still living in the magical moments of childhood. Enjoy the stinging on your cheeks from the cold. Bring a mug of hot cocoa and some friends along. Sing the carols at the top of your voice. This is something you won’t want to miss.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

This opinion piece is labeled as such on the desktop version.

Art by Paige Martin

On our journey to try as many Wilson‘s classes as we could, we found body combat was next on our list.

We’d heard of this class from our friends and had even gotten a taste of it when an instructor came to our health class in ninth grade. It seemed like the perfect package: get a workout and learn how to fight. Arriving with few minutes to spare, the room was already packed with women and men. A few friendly class-goers pointed out that we would want to spread out some more to avoid hitting others or being hit by flailing limbs ourselves.

The instructor, a muscular, intimidating woman with biceps and calf muscles as big as our thighs, got started right away. While she yelled into her headpiece, we fell into step with everybody else, bouncing through a warm-up.

The class started with complicated footwork and fast beats, hardly leaving time for us to slow down and learn the moves. It felt as if everyone there already knew what they were doing and the whole room could see our missteps. The mirror walls seemed to scream of our mistakes. Of course, this was ridiculous. No one was really watching us, we weren’t the only newbies in the class; it was just one of those situations where embarrassment turns to irrationality.

After a few minutes of reddened cheeks and embarrassed smiles, we managed to catch on to the “fancy” footwork, which was basically just skipping back and forth while punching. We learned straight punches, upper cuts (hitting the chin from below) and hook punches (hitting the side of the face). We kept our bodies low to the ground and our elbows in, punching with all our might. After a couple of arm sets, the instructor added some kicks and knee thrusts, and the increased tempo of the music (We know-how fast can it get?).

We felt strong. We felt powerful. We felt unbeatable.

It wasn’t until we caught a glimpse of ourselves in the mirrored walls that we realized just how ridiculous we looked: stringy hair and sweaty faces, punching and kicking the air (Ashleigh especially embarrassed herself in an attempt to jump up and kick, instead somehow slamming herself in the knee.).

As ridiculous as we may have felt or looked, the class really was a workout. Much to our demise, the instructor managed to work lunges into the workout, leaving our calves and thighs burning, which would add to the shoulder and back soreness we would experience the next day. Halfway through the work out, our lungs and throats burned, just like the feeling you get when you run in the cold. As pathetic as we felt, our biggest regret was not bringing water bottles.

Managing to combine cardio with muscle building, body combat was a good way to burn calories and tone our bodies. The crowd was friendly and the instructor, though intimidating at first, was kind and patient. The most important rule we learned from this workout session: always bring a water bottle .

By Trisha Chaudhary and Ashleigh Atasoy

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the activities office or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the ten minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

A convenient link to the greatest film ever: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtWjEBzQ0Xc

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayyousi

When I was younger, I lived in a fictional world. I read every and any book I was able to get my hands on, and when I wasn’t reading, I was watching movies. The characters I came across in books, movies and television became a part of me, and I lived vicariously through them.

I waited three years to watch the series finale of “Boy Meets World,” and I waited months before reading the epilogue of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows simply because I hated to see my characters’ journeys and lives come to an end. The difference between a good book or good movie and a memorable one were the characters. The characters stuck with me, and I held onto them. Their inspiration and greatness made them incredibly admirable.

And so, I present unto you, the top 10 most admirable fictional characters.

10. Phil Dunphy (Modern Family)

Phil Dunphy is the greatest TV dad in modern-day television history.  His Dunphyisms and fun, kind-hearted spirit can’t help but make anyone laugh.  And I have to say, seeing him cry when Hayley went off to college triggered a few tears.

9. Noah Calhoun (The Notebook)

Noah wrote Allie every day for 365 days.  If a guy were to text me every day for a month I would consider that admirable, let alone sending 365 letters.

8. Juno MacGuff (Juno)

Juno MacGuff is probably the only teenage girl out there who could deal with an unwanted, mistimed, unexpected pregnancy so lightheartedly.  The way she keeps her composure and lives the most daunting nine months of her life makes her an incredibly likable, admirable character.

7. Amir (The Kite Runner)

Your life is not complete until you read The Kite Runner.  The Kite Runner tells the tale of Amir and Hassan, best friends from different social settings in Kabul, Afghanistan.  While Hassan is both Amir’s best friend and servant boy, Amir is mocked and ridiculed for associating with an Hazara. When Hassan is brutally attacked and raped after defending Amir’s kite, Amir keeps this fact to himself.  After losing his home and his best friend, Amir spends the rest of the novel on a journey for redemption, and it is one of the most touching, respectable journeys ever written.

6. Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games Trilogy)

When I first read The Hunger Games, I didn’t expect to like Peeta Mellark.  He was whiny, obsessive and came off as kind of a stalker.  But those traits just seemed to make Peeta more incredible.  His devotion to Katniss and drive to protect her in the games was just admirable.  Simply admirable.

5. Neville Longbottom (Harry Potter Series)

I would consider Neville Longbottom to be the most dynamic character in the series.  Neville is the dorky, timid underdog of the series who no one seems to notice until he singlehandedly kills Nagini.  From the first moment Neville broke his wrist during his first flying lesson, to eventually leading Dumbledore’s Army in Harry’s absence, Neville changes from a young, bumbling wizard to a courageous leader and prophecy.  His transformation is the most enjoyable one to witness.

4. Augustus Waters (The Fault in Our Stars)

John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars tells the story of two terminally ill teenagers with cancer. Sixteen-year-old Hazel meets and falls in love with 17-year-old ex-basketball player and amputee Augustus Waters.  Although Augustus begins the novel healthier than Hazel, he progressively becomes more and more sick.  Nevertheless, even as Augustus grows frail, he continues to strive to make Hazel happy.  He even uses his one wish–– one trip or item granted to kids with cancer –– on Hazel because she already used hers on a bland, stereotypical trip to Disney World.  And that boys is what I call admirable.

3. Forrest Gump (Forrest Gump)

Forrest Gump is the kind of character that is impossible to dislike.  Even the fact that his annoying, southern drawl done by Tom Hanks may be the worst fake southeren accent in U.S. film history, one cannot help but adore Forrest Gump.  In the two hours that Forrest Gump graces the screen, he shares his life story.  Watching Forrest Gump deal with love, loss, war and fame is hilarious, emotional and heartbreaking all at the same time.

2. Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird)

Atiicus Finch is the definition of flawless.  A lawyer in 1930’s Alabama, Atticus Finch defends Tom Robinson, a black man  under fire for being accused of raping a young white girl.  While Robinson is obviously innocent, due to racial differences and tensions, no one believes him or Atticus Finch.  Nonetheless, Attticus Finch still works incredibly hard to prove him innocent.  Atticus Finch’s drive, motivation, and dignity make him a perfect admirable character.

1. Sydney Carton (A Tale of Two Cities)

Sydney Carton is by far the most admirable character and has been since 1859.  Appearing in Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, Sydney Carton is a lazy, alcoholic attorney who appears to have no interest in himself or others around him, and he describes his life as a waste and worthless.  However, after a few encounters with Lucie Manette, the rich, spoiled fiance’ of Charles Darnay, the foe of Carton, the reader begins to sense that Carton has passionate feelings for Lucie, and he professes his deep love for her before her wedding day.

Although Lucie doesn’t reciprocate his feelings and goes on to to marry Darnay, Carton chooses to be self-sacrificially executed in place of Charles Darnay to spare Lucie from losing her love and Darnay his life.  Sydney Carton was able to turn his life around in less than 300 pages and proves to be the most charming, romantic and perfect character out there.  Every man should aspire to be like Sydney Carton, except for the drunk, lazy, pessimistic and dead part.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

iPad Mini (Used under Fair Use Doctrine from apple.com)

The iPad Mini was not a necessary product and is not an upgrade in any way other than size. The smaller size might have worked out if the features and screen resolution had stayed the same as the iPad Retina.

Screen resolution can make all the difference when using a device. It changes the overall feel of the device. That was the original intent of a retina display when it was first released by Apple. The iPad Mini doesn’t use a retina display. Instead, it uses a grainy low pixel-density display, making the general use of the device seem like a huge downgrade from the higher-class iPad Retina.

The smaller size could be an advantage over the iPad Retina, but the iPod Touch already fills this niche. The need to have something in-between is only due to the fact that other companies have tablets of comparable size. If Apple was truly trying to innovate, the iPad Mini would not exist as a separate entity. The iPad Retina would have been shrunken down to iPad Mini size while improving its internal hardware.

Price could have changed this all around as a much cheaper alternative. The iPad Mini starts at $329, and the iPad Retina starts at $499. That is only a $170 difference. The iPad Retina is well worth the $170 over the iPad Mini because of the gain in screen size, features and user experience. The price of the iPad Mini is not low enough to be considered comparable to the iPod Touch which starts at $299 and has better specs than that of the iPad Mini. If Apple’s goal was to compete, they missed the key price range of $99 to $199 for smaller tablets.

Apple’s lack of any additional innovation with the iPad Mini is a huge drawback and may be a sign that Apple is on a downward spiral or at least a stumble. The past trend with Apple has been to create an unexpected quality product that the consumer will learn to love. Now, Apple has went down the dark road that many companies take in creating a product that the consumer already knows and likes for the moment. If they continue down this dark path, the consumer is the real loser, as they are left with just the same boring products with no new innovations.

By John Gillis

Lights outside Ragtag Cinema illuminate the sidewalk below. Photo by Asa Lory

There is an awkward moment between fall and winter, between falling leaves and falling snow. This in-between season is a horrible mix of cold, windy and wet. People’s confused wardrobes display winter boots with sundresses, and raincoats piled on top of light t-shirts. Fall sports are ending, while winter ones have not yet begun. Teachers find themselves in a comfortable routine, without the soon-to-be stress of the semester ending.

Within this funny crevice falls a few sweet moments. Although Ragtag Cinema and Uprise Bakery are wonderful to go to anytime of the year, this is by far my favorite. On these overcast rainy days, the only thing that indulges my mellow mood is finding a seat by myself at the wooden tables, with a bowl of wild mushroom soup. My breath and the steam from the bowl fog up the glass as I lean up against it and let my mind wander.

Saturdays are never complete without a cup of joe and a French flick. The only thing that can top it comes next, the quiet and wonderful words, “You’re in theatre two.” Instead of stadium seats that occupy most movie theatres, Ragtag has arranged old couches and loveseats. My favorite spot is in the front row, a blue-grey long couch with worn out pillows and sides that are easy to sink into.

This place is a home for me during the odd fall/winter season. What is more perfect than a hot chocolate in ceramic mug? Especially to make it through a terrifying horror movie: you know, one of those that doesn’t even have blood and yet somehow it ends up terrifying you to your core.

Every movie has a personal touch. A emcee of sorts comes out before the previews even start, before the lights have fallen, and they explain why the theatre chose to show the movie, they open it up for questions and they usually tie it together with something that’s happening locally. They point out the quirks of the moviemaker, or the reason why they are in love with the main actress.

Before the lights go off, I look around. There is white haired couple calling back to the introducer with big glasses; it’s clear they’ve been here before. There are two young girls sharing a popcorn topped with chili pepper, laughing and eyes watering. The lights dim before I can continue my snooping, and I settle back into my couch. This is like my living room, but so much better.

I doubt there is a place better suited where Columbians can fall out of fall. So come in, put your umbrellas in the stand, walk around and admire the artwork, order something with a side of freshly baked bread and stay a while. Enjoy all your in-between moments in this homey cinema-café.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Art by Paige Martin

After our first experience at Wilson’s, we were eager to go back. But among homework, clubs, jobs and the desire for sleep, we were struggling to find any time in our busy schedules to actually work out. So when Election Day arrived, and school was out of session, we decided to go to Wilson’s. At 5 a.m.

Dragging ourselves out of bed at 4:30 a.m., we managed to make it out of our houses and into the Wilson’s Step Class. Twenty-some women were already in the room, setting up their step boxes, and we followed suit, trying to look like we knew what we were doing.

With lagging steps and bleary eyes, we couldn’t fathom how our instructor had so much enthusiasm this early in the morning. Starting right off with a step routine, the instructor was really good about explaining moves to new students (like us) and always offering higher and lower intensity steps. She gave us three different intensity levels, and we could choose which one we wanted to follow.

Though the steps at first seemed relatively do-able, the basic moves soon got the best of us. With 11 in the first ten minutes, the sweat began to drip. Within the next ten, our breathing got heavier. Halfway through, our thighs and calves were screaming in protest to every movement. We stepped, hopped and reached our way to the end of the hour-long workout, accompanied by moms and sixty-year-olds who were (to our horror) more in shape than us. By the end of the workout our legs were killing us. They felt like jelly on the walk back to the car. Eventually our panting faded away and the sweat dried, leaving us with an accomplished feeling and adrenaline pulsing through our veins.  At 6:30 a.m.

This was by far the hardest class we’ve been to yet, but the most worth it as well.

So with dried sweat, messy buns and killer thighs, we sidestepped into the car, with one thing on our minds: sleep.

By Trisha Chaudhary

Art by Michelle Zhuang

We’ve all been in the embarrassing situation.

Having to sit through a conversation where you know absolutely nothing about the topic is probably one of the most awkward experiences a person can go through. While everyone seems to have fun discussing their greatly diversified opinions on the subject, your inability to participate forces you to sit quietly, twiddling your thumbs, struggling to stay awake or having an even more interesting debate in your head about which person you would eat first if everyone in the room were trapped in the mountains during a blizzard.

You always have the option of trying to awkwardly pass off as uninterested in such meager conversations, or you can use one of mankind’s best creations: the Internet. A quick series of taps on a smartphone can hook you up to unlimited knowledge about anything and everything and can prevent a situation in which you aren’t the intelligent one.

The Internet is one of my best friends. I can’t thank it enough for the countless times it has helped me finish a project, complete research reports that my grade depended on or helped me understand math. If the Internet wasn’t around, I would be a far worse student than I really am.

But, it doesn’t only help me out in my schoolwork.

The Internet is one of the best entertainment options a teenager has. As long as you stay within the area of a little something called legality, the possibilities are endless.

In my case, having AUT at the very end of the day means that my attention span has gone home for the day. So my friends and I have waste several hours of precious AUT time searching our names on Google, stalking random people on Twitter that just so happen to come up in our conversations and then laughing our heads off while scrolling through comical Pinterest content.

Even though many people claim technology has ruined the minds of this generation, I like to think that we have access to more information than the generations before us. We have the ability to pull up any fact about any subject at any time. For us, entertainment is a few screen-taps away.

I’ll admit, I don’t know how I would live without the Internet. Life as we know it is built upon this technological blessing, but we never really acknowledge it as a necessity. Instead, we take it for granted.

By Afsah Khan

Music by Bensound.com

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

On the afternoon of Saturday, Nov. 10, teams of RBHS students and Intersection members gathered for an intense dodgeball tournament. Each team paid 50 dollars to play, and with a total of six teams, the tournament raised $300 for the Intersection, an “after-school and community program that RBRO volunteers at Monday-Friday from 5:00-6:30 p.m.,” junior RBRO co-President Kelsey Harper said. Whether color-coordinated, face-painted or adorned simply in sheer dodgeball talent, the teams played fierce games and all for a good cause.

Art by Yasmeen El-Jayyousi

Have you ever consumed a non-newtonian fluid? The answer may surprise you, which is cliche journalism-speak for “yes, even if you think you haven’t.”

Although they sound like something that gave the Hulk his superpowers, non-newtonian fluids are simple, expectation-defying liquids and with no gamma radiation. Bascially, a NNF is a fluid (well, obviously) that differs in flow properties from Newtonian fluids (well, obviously). Since this is a circular definition, I’ll provide a simple example: cornstarch and water.

Yes, that most fantastic of toys, that marvelous discovery in childhood that simple cornstarch and plain water, when combined, form a magical liquid that is ALSO a solid. The cornstarch in the water is made of long molecules — polymers. When the goo moves slowly, the polymers get along well enough and slid past each other easy. When things get cramped, however, the polymers get all mad and freeze up. Thus, you can do stuff like this. In the video, the speaker is hitting the goo at 30 Hz, so it moves up and around due to the rapid oscillation of force.

So I said at the beginning that you’ve probably eaten a NNF, and moreover probably remarked on its unique properties. Probably not cornstarch-water goop, however. The non-newton I and many others enjoy is far more tasty — ketchup.

But wait!– you say, dazed and confused. When I hit ketchup it doesn’t solidify, it goes everywhere! That’s not the NNF you’ve been talking about.

And I’d say why are you hitting ketchup? Seriously, what benefit comes of that? What did ketchup ever do to you?

And also: exactly.

Because as we all know ketchup in glass bottles seems to fall out in globs, barely moving and then moving a lot. See where I’m going with this?

Ketchup is the reverse of the cornstarch-water gloop. Instead of moving slower when spurred to action, it’s slow to start but begins to move faster when it’s already moving. This is called shear thinning — gloop, on the other hand, is shear thickening — and it’s the reason glass ketchup bottles suck.

In the end, what this means to you is that mixing cornstarch and water isn’t just a good idea, it’s a great idea. Do it right now, seriously. Make a giant vat and dance on it, or look on YouTube for the video of cornstarch-water on a speaker cone and then make that. Really, it comes down to how much work you’re willing to put into it, and as high school students, I’d understand if you chose the vat.

By Adam Schoelz

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Welcome to Ask Jake, Bearing News’ first online advice column.

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the activities office or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the ten minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

Photo by Manal Salim

After an extremely long and exhausting day at school, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary lately, I have found that I absolutely need to unwind myself somehow.  Today was made up of three tests, a quiz I know I didn’t do so hot on, and I had to trudge through the whole day with less than four hours of sleep on hand.

On days like these, I always crave the most random foods, knowing that there is absolutely no physical way I can get that particular snack. This time, I really wanted a Salted Caramel latte from Starbucks, and only a Salted Caramel latte. Nothing else would make up for all the struggles I faced. But despite the fact that Starbucks is nearly a fifteen minute drive from my house, no one in my family had the heart to drive me up there just for a quick satisfying drink.

So I hopped onto my laptop and immediately got on Pinterest to see if there was any way I could find a drink that would compensate for my loss. That night, I discovered that Pinterest truly was my savior. Under the Foods & Drinks tab of the website, a blogger posted a copycat recipe of the Starbucks latte, but instead concocted a delicious-looking Salted Caramel hot chocolate in merely five minutes. I immediately sprang up and frantically searched my pantry for the following items.

Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate

What you’ll need:

Photo by Manal Salim

Saucepan

Mug

Spoon

4 tablespoons of hot chocolate powder

¾ cup of milk

3 tablespoons caramel syrup

Canned whipped cream

Pinch of medium coarse sea salt

Source: http://savorysweetlife.com/2009/11/salted-caramel-hot-chocolate-recipe

To make the delicious treat:

Begin by heating ¾ cup milk in a saucepan over medium heat so the milk does not burn. Heat the milk just until it is warm enough for your liking in a hot chocolate, then turn off the stove. Add 4 tablespoons of the hot chocolate powder into the saucepan of milk, and stir until combined and there are no lumps of chocolate.

Next, pour 3 tablespoons of the caramel syrup into your mug and turn the mug around until the mug is coated well with caramel. Carefully pour the hot chocolate from the saucepan, into the mug. Take the can of whipped cream and put as much as you desire. Then, if you would like, drizzle some more caramel onto the whipped cream, and finish off the drink with a pinch of medium coarse sea salt. Enjoy!

My Experience:

Overall, the drink thoroughly exceeded my expectations in a comforting drink, especially for one that I personally made myself. The rich, thick whipped cream slowly melted with the steamy hot chocolate to create the perfectly temperate drink that didn’t burn my tongue or give me a brain freeze either. The caramel in the hot chocolate gives the drink a kick that is unexpected in any ordinary hot chocolate and felt a bit spicy and sweet all at once. The caramel and salt combination drizzled atop the concoction just topped off the drink and left my taste buds with an unexpected twist.

However, there are some issues with the recipe I would like to point out, that I myself would change the next time I make my homemade Salted Caramel hot chocolate. I feel as though I may have gone a bit too heavy with the salt, and I think I may have enjoyed the drink even more had I gone a little easier on the sea salt. Also, I would recommend using a funnel when pouring the hot chocolate from the saucepan to the mug, as I ended up making a bit of a mess, and had to scurry cleaning it up before I had the chance to enjoy my drink. Also, depending on your palette, I would recommend being careful with the amount of caramel and salt added to the hot chocolate, as taste preferences may differ depending on the individual.

However, in the end, the drink most definitely satisfied my hunger pangs and truly helped me make it through the remainder of my hectic day. Now, I know, the next time I am randomly in the mood for a Salted Caramel latte from Starbucks, the fifteen minute drive is no longer necessary. With just a couple items from my kitchen pantry and five minutes hands-on time, I can enjoy the drink without the hassle of traffic or a long wait. Whenever I am in need of an ingenious dessert, drink or snack, I know Pinterest is the place to check out, regardless of the absurdity of whatever item I am desiring at the moment.

By Manal Salim

Today, Fishman-Weaver, 31, is a teacher at Rock Bridge High School and sponsor of Rock Bridge Reaches Out, a community service organization she helped found 13 years ago when she was a senior at the school.
In 1999, she wanted to help people in Columbia without food or a place to live, others who had disabilities and an entire community who wanted cleaner water. But mostly she wanted to find outlets for her fellow teens to help, too.
When she joined Rock Bridge High School as a special education teacher, she discovered more needs in the community, so she simply picked up where she left off.
Rock Bridge Reaches Out is divided into nine core groups that take on volunteer projects throughout the year. One bags lunches at the food bank, another makes fleece blankets for Project Linus. The Stream Team addresses water pollution. A couple times a year, the club undertakes a group effort.
The organization is run by three student presidents, who organize the big group activities. Each core group has two or three leaders and 20-50 members.
“What makes Rock Bridge Reaches Out so successful is the fact that we have the core groups,” co-president Kelsey Harper said. “I think that creates a big sense of community that has the support and structure of a big club, but, at the same time, a community within your core group.”

Fishman-Weaver’s enthusiasm for service has roots in her childhood. She grew up with parents who encouraged community involvement, whether helping with church service projects, volunteering at school or spending time at the library.
“Like most people, I am who I am because of my family,” Fishman-Weaver said. “My grandmothers were both teachers, and growing up, my parents talked to us a lot about social justice and peace.”
As a student at Rock Bridge, she considered a future in social work or medicine but ended up graduating from MU with degrees in sociology and English.
“I liked anything that had to do with literacy — helping my mom with the writing lab and then doing the young writers program in college,” Fishman-Weaver said. “All of those opportunities that involve language and story telling really blended my interests.”
She continued to volunteer at Rock Bridge and Cedar Creek Therapeutic Riding Center throughout her time at MU.

She decided to attend San Francisco State University and earn a master’s degree with an emphasis in special education.
While she was going to school, she landed her first job, teaching first grade in Oakland, Calif. She taught there for three years.

“I had a group of boys — really fantastic boys, thoughtful, smart, smart boys … and they came to talk to me when it was all done and just said what a profound impact it had on them and how they would carry that with them,” Fishman-Weaver said.
Positive feedback from students only fuels her to continue her job as a teacher.

“My favorite teacher moments are the times when I can see my students strengthened as a result of their giving to others,” she said. “Kids like to see that they can make a difference, and they do, again and again and again.”

While she was in California, she married Chris Weaver, whom she met while a student at San Francisco State. They adopted a boy, James, now 13, and have a daughter, Lilah, 15 months.

Supervising editor is Jeanne Abbott.

You know what I’m talking about.

I was having a particularly horrible day not too long ago. It was one of those days when everything had come crashing down at the same time. On top of all my homework and projects, it was a Sunday, which automatically cranks down my level of happiness. My internal teenage roller-coaster was taking a low swoop, and it felt as if my world was crashing down on top of me.

After several hours of feeling sorry for myself, I reached out to my good friend Anna Wright by sending her a text message. The conversation we had via text message was the perfect antidote for my dismal mood.

The only thing that turned my day around was a simple text I got from a good friend. She showered me with praise and compliments, and it was virtually impossible not to break out into a smile while reading through my texts.

That’s when it really hit me, and I realized how important my friends really are to me. They always stand by me when I’m stressing out or on the verge of tears. I can count on them to take me to Panera, help me with my Spanish homework or contemplate the meaning of life with.

If I didn’t have friends, I honestly don’t know what I’d do. If I couldn’t ever share laughs or deep, dark secrets with them, I’d probably be living a sad, flavorless life. Kind of like a hermit crab, only sadder.

I’m really grateful for my friends, but I still feel as though I take them for granted. I know I shouldn’t, but my self-centered subconscious doesn’t allow me to appreciate these important people in my life. It sounds cheesy, but my life wouldn’t be the same without them.

 By Afsah Khan

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Every Oct. 31, the Hearnes Center hosts the Mizzou Family Tiger Night of Fun, providing young trick-or-treaters- whether they’re  classic princesses and superheroes or unconventional octopi and cell phones- with a safe and friendly environment to have fun at on the spookiest night of the year.

Flat Branch Pub and Brewing. Photo by Asa Lory

I want to brag on a business today, to take a moment to recognize a Columbia favorite. They are renowned for serving up amazing food and having a casual college atmosphere. But today, let’s talk about something even more important that they do.

I want to talk about what happens behind a closed bathroom door.

So many businesses around town just ignore the needs of the customer in there. They forget to stock up, make it so chilly you fear frostbite if you take off your pants or ignore the grimy floors under our feet.

Flat Branch Pub and Brewery isn’t like that. They care for you as a customer from the moment you walk into the store until the moment you walk out. And they absolutely do not skimp in the bathroom.

Your journey begins with entering under the special for the day, in through the heavy wooden doors, and seeing a sparkling clean space. The music is soft, and the light is not the florescent type that makes you hate yourself when you look in the mirror.

Every one of the doors can lock. This shouldn’t come as such a shock to me. But it does. How many times have I been at even the fanciest of restaurants and had to hold the door with one hand as a whiny kid from the outside tries to push their way into my stall. More than just locks, there is never graffiti, never obscenities, never even fliers telling me what I should be doing on my Saturday nights.

The best part though comes after the stall. The management at Flat Branch decided to make their bathrooms touch free. It’s such a tiny convenience, but it goes such a long way. The sinks are automatic. The soap is hands-free. The driers are like space machines that you slide your hands into, fingers first, and pull up – suddenly somehow magically dry. The door has a foot pull, so that even leaving the restroom your hands stay clean.

I am not a germ nut. I am not a toilet paper dictator. But I do appreciate the little things. I know that when a business chooses to think about the details, they truly care about the people who come in and out of their doors every day.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

ANYONE can send in questions by either dropping questions into the Ask Jake box in the activities office or by emailing the questions to askjake@bearingnews.org. There are, however, a few ground rules:

1. I will not answer anything that isn’t school appropriate.

2. I will answer all the questions I can within the ten minute time slot.

3. I will NOT read any of these questions beforehand — despite temptation to do so.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in these are solely of the individual Jake Alden and are not the views of BEARING NEWS, its parent, affiliate or subsidiary companies. Follow said advice at your own risk.

By Jake Alden

Video by Urmila Kutikkad

Photo by Trisha Chaudhary

Lately, I find myself up into the wee hours of the night laboring over my Calculus homework and reading “America: A Narrative History” by George Tindall. In the morning when I wake up, rubbing my sore, puffy eyes, I can’t help but wonder what the heck I do all the time when I go to bed past 1 a.m. every night, but my homework still goes unfinished.

Upon reflection, I discovered that many of my hours are whiled away on sites like Pinterest, where I tell myself, “I’ll just look at a couple pins,” but end up scrolling through the whole days’ feed.

I decided it was high time I did something about it. Since I couldn’t get myself to stop getting on Pinterest, I would try the things I pinned to see if they actually turned out.

So I started with this: Braided Crown Tutorial

I have a whole board on Pinterest dedicated to braids. Braids, braids, braids. I just can’t seem to get enough of them. I started with something simple - the crown braid.

If you watch the video, it seems simple enough: braid back a chunk of hair on both sides of your head, separate the braid to make it thicker, pin both of them back, tucking extra pieces behind braids.

The first part was easy. I think I’m a decent braid-er so braiding back two chunks of my hair on either side of my part was fairly simple. The next step, however, posed some difficulties. In the video, she easily pulls up the edges of the braids to spread them out. I don’t know what I was doing, but this step was just not working for me. Maybe it was just my hair (which, granted was slightly dirty…hem hem), but when I attempted this, my braids seemed to just come apart in my hands.

Because of it’s lack of a-washing, my hair seemed extra slick and my braids didn’t seem to spread out. After pulling up both sides of the braids, they seemed to look a little better, so I powered through. They looked a little like this:

Once this was done, the rest seemed easy: just pin the braids back. Well first of all, it took me forever to find a good place on the pack of my head to pin the braids so that they wouldn’t just slip out. The texture of my hair was such that the bobby pins would just slip out when I tried to pin the braids back.

Perhaps, girls with curly hair would have more success with this ‘do.’ I had to use an extra bobby pin to finally secure the braids, but even then, they just didn’t look right. The pulling apart step was useless because after a few minutes, my braids just went back to the way they originally were- skinny and limp. Maybe it’s due to the fact that the tips of my hair are dyed a lighter color, but my braids did not blend in with the rest of my hair well, not to mention my bobby pins and rubber bands were super noticeable.

So overall, I would not say that this attempt was a success. Moral of the story: the girls in the videos always make it look so easy, but that is false advertising.

Will this stop me from wasting time on Pinterest? Heck no.

By Trisha Chaudhary

Kaldi’s coffee is located downtown at 29 S. Ninth Street and is open from 6 a.m. to 11 p.m on weekdays and from 7 a.m to 11 p.m on weekends.

When I was little I had a tree house, a fort made of pillows and sheets or a big cardboard box that said “Do not disturb.” And as I grew up, hideaways became more important. It is a place where I can shut off my phone, sit back and not worry about Calculus and (shockingly) have a long, real conversation.

Kaldi’s is my hide out. From the second I open the heavy door, I feel at home. The smell of the maple pumpkin spice latte greets me fondly, and the tinkling of glasses and whispers of conversation guide me in as I wait in line to get my cup. The old-style frames on the walls hold black boards with drawings of that day’s specials, and sometimes a little advice or Mizzou cheer.

I order my mocha in a ‘for here’ cup and I sit down in the beaten up wooden chairs.

Sometimes I go alone and watch the lonely cactus sitting up high in the window. I listen to nearby tables and smile at priceless conversational gems like, “What if you dated a girl with the same name as your cat? That would be weird. You’d probably have to re-name your girlfriend.”

Sometimes I go with a friend or two, and we cover all the topics imaginable. The pumpkin colored walls beg for the customers to spill their secrets, not their drinks.

Eventually they call out my name. Some people are really clever and give names like “Regina Falange,” others are a tad obnoxious and give ones like “Senorita Ishmababa,” both of which I have heard. I always order with the intent of giving a great name, and then when they ask “Can I have a name for that?” I freeze up and forget, and just say, “Um.. Maria?”

So the barista calls out “Maria,” and I walk up and get my coffee. My mocha has a heart in it. I sit down, content as can be, and sip out of my big ceramic mug, overlooking the community board and knowing that I have chosen wisely for my hideaway.

This place is perfect. Coffee in one hand, an old book in the other; the only thing that would make it better is a cardboard sign saying “please do not disturb.”

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Afsah Khan at the age of one models her off an adorable innocence in one of her early childhood photos. Photo provided by Afsah Khan

All it takes is the press of a button. A quick flash of light. The subtle sound of a click.

In the time it takes to blink, a camera can stop the clock. It can capture any moment and suspend it in time forever. Whether it be bad or good, happy or sad, formal or casual, this creates a moment that will be there forever, for everyone to see and remember.

This great work of art is known to us as the photograph.

OK, I admit it. 95 percent of the time, I don’t particularly like photographs. They’re either an embarrassing reminder of my middle school days, or another particularly awkward stage of my life that is forever sealed in a still frame. There is no shortage of embarrassing laughs, poses, or toothy smiles that have been preserved for everyone to see for the next century.

Even if photographs highlight my worst features and display them in an extremely unflattering manner,  I don’t know what I would do without them.

Until now, there are only a few events that I can remember in the short 16 years of my life.  I rely on the countless shoeboxes filled with photographs and the stacks of family albums to tell me what I looked like as a baby, to serve as my personal witness to my childhood.

Cheesy as it sounds, I don’t know what I’d do without photographs.

I wouldn’t know my past. I wouldn’t have a past. There would only be the grainy memories that are filed away in the recesses of my mind that would tell me who I used to be.  There would be no facts, just stories and my own unreliable memories, that would build a shaky rendering of what the world used to be like.

Photos give all of us a past, whether it’s something we like to remember, or something we wish to forget. Whatever the case may be, photographs are the only way we can actually reminisce. They’re our only connection with the world before us and with the people we loved who passed before us. Most importantly, they’re the only way we can learn from our past.

None of us should take photographs for granted, yet we all do.

By Afsah Khan

Our core leaders for Stream Team are Sammy and Adam. They are both juniors at RBHS and have a passion for keeping our Missouri water ways clean. Stream Team has met several times this year to pick up litter around streams and water sheds in our area.

Brittany and David are our leaders for
the Missouri Food Bank Core. Two
Thursdays a month they take a group of RBHS kids to the food bank to help package foods. The most common food we package is cereal.

Katy and Sam are two of our leaders for Project Linus. They’re both very involved juniors at RBHS. For Project Linus they organize bake sales and coordinate meetings so we can buy fabric and make tie blankets for children in the hospital. These blankets serve as a major comfort for these children.

Also for a general update on today’s events, we played UNO at the nursing home, and we have expanded our work with The Intersection to 5 days a week!

Art by Paige Martin.

With fresh Wilson’s gym memberships in hand, we embarked on a journey to fitness. Ready to get in shape (for the…winter?) we started out with a water aerobics class called “Aquablast.” It would be easy, we told ourselves, not to mention it was one of the few classes where you didn’t end up saturated in sweat. I mean what is one to expect but pool noodles, water weights and oversized women when attending water aerobics? So we squeezed into our old swim-team swimsuits and stepped into the muggy pool, bracing ourselves. Upon seeing our fellow attendees, older, overweight women, we weren’t encouraged. Little did we know, this class was not for the weak-hearted.

While the noodles and weights may have been true,  the instructor immediately plunged into a workout head first.  With high-octane music beating in the background, we  jumped, kicked and pushed our limbs through the restraining water.  Much to our surprise, at times the agility and sheer strength needed for this workout were nearly impossible to muster. Beneath her hearty exterior, the instructor had thighs of steel and biceps bigger than our faces.

Compromising positions were common and the awkward levels were at an all time high.  At one point, while walking sideways down the length of the pool with our arms in the air pinching our fingers like claws, two moderately attractive boys MAY have seen us acting like crabs. Can you say mortified?

Overall, though, the class was a success, and we definitely felt it the next day. Returning two days later, we braced ourselves for another tough workout, only to be dissatisfied with the new instructor’s style.  This time, the class was focused on strength training rather than the aerobic burn we had craved.  Where the other had us panting and gasping for air, this one was steady, slow and dare we say… boring? The stereotype of old women in their saggy swimsuits waving their arms through water was fulfilled.

Repeated visits only proved our greatest fear– this class wasn’t the challenge we had worked so hard to find.  Because of the constantly changing instructors, the intensity level fluctuated, and we later discovered the original instructor was merely a temporary replacement. No class would ever compare to that first calorie-crunching, crab-walking workout.

By Ashleigh Atasoy and Trisha Chaudhary

So, I did what I always do when I have nothing to do: text the lovely people I call my friends.  And yet when the one word replies from my half-asleep comrades did not suffice as a source of my entertainment, I turned to my third foolproof plan—Netflix.

Why would a godly creation such as instantly streaming movies across the Internet only be third on my list of go-to activities when I’m lying in bed at 11 p.m. at night?  Because it is nearly impossible to find a good movie on Netflix in a reasonable amount of time.

It’s not that Netflix has bad movies; it’s just that Netflix conceals the great ones with strange indie flicks that no one has ever heard of.  There are plenty of good films on Netflix, but to save you from scouring the menu I present unto you, the top 10 must-watch movies on Netflix.

10.  Clueless (1995, PG-13)

This movie is by far a must-watch for all who admire the cliché, predictable ‘chick flick’  and should  nevertheless be watched by all just because it features Paul Rudd.  ”Clueless” portrays the tale of 16-year-old glitzy, ditzy rich girl Cher Horowitz who appears to have the perfect lifestyle, however, learns throughout the movie that her superficial ways and materialistic objects may not be what she needs to be happy, while also testing her relationships with everyone around her.  If anyone appreciates the sappy, spirited aspect of the chick flick, do yourself a favor and invest your time into this movie.

9.  Meet the Parents (2000, PG-13)

This is one of those movies where I could literally not stop laughing.  Robert De Niro perfectly plays a former CIA director who spends the movie interrogating male, Jewish nurse, Greg Focker, to determine if he is right for his daughter.  If you have a sense of humor and could spend 10 minutes laughing at cat jokes and the names Gaylord and Martha Focker, then this is the movie for you.

8. Drive (2011, R)

I am not an action/adventure kind of person, but I am a Ryan Gosling kind of person, which is the only reason why I initially decided to watch this movie.

However, as it  continued on I found that I was actually captivated by the plot of the movie and not just the way Ryan Gosling looked in his sleek leather jacket.  The Driver, played by Gosling, spends the film as a getaway driver in various criminal heists.

Although the movie has minimal dialogue and a scene count that you could count on one hand, “Drive”  has everything– action, crime, drama, romance, violence, and a showcase of the ever impressive Ryan Gosling furiously stomping someone in the head to death.  Nevertheless, this is definitely a must-watch.

7. Paper Moon (1973, PG)

“Paper Moon” is the ultimate road trip movie.

Set in 1936, 9-year-old orphan Addie Loggins is sent on a road trip with con artist bible salesman, Moses Pray, who may or may not be her father.  However, Addie is not as sweet or innocent as she appears and is actually a profuse user of profanity, cigarettes and sabotage, and together Addie and Moses join forces in stealing from and conning all who they come in contact with.

How cute.

6. Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961, G)

Being an Audrey Hepburn fan, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” was a movie that I had been dying to see, so imagine my excitement when I discovered it was available on Netflix.

Holly Golightly is a girl who soars freely through life with a carefree spirit and designer clothes, yet is so afraid of commitment that she doesn’t even give her cat a name.  However, her stance against commitment is challenged once she meets her new neighbor.

This romantic comedy is everything a romantic comedy should be, and the ending is absolute perfection.

5. Office Space (1999, R)

You have not seen three grown men viciously smash a printer in slow motion to Geto Boys until you have watched “Office Space.”

4.Good Will Hunting (1997, R)

“Good Will Hunting” is a ’90s classic.  This film has heart, passion, inspiration, Ben Affleck, and on top of all that it is set in Boston.  This movie could not get more perfect.

Matt Damon plays Will Hunting, a gifted, yet rebellious janitor at MIT, who is able to quickly solve a math problem that stumps MIT students.  He is prompted by an MIT professor to solve his problems by solving more math and seeing a therapist.

As a viewer, you become attached to Will Hunting, and the end is more than one can hope for.

3. Heathers (1988, R)

Whenever I try to explain the plot of Heathers I never fail to receive strange stares.  “Oh, you know “Heathers” is a movie where this girl and her boyfriend go around killing popular people in their school and then cover it up as a suicide.  Its one of my favorite movies!”

Yet, “Heathers“  is the quintessential dark comedy, and should be watched by anyone with a sense a humor, a beating pulse or with an odd hatred toward the name Heather.

2. Kramer Vs. Kramer (1979, PG)

I have a thing for films that win Oscars, which is how I stumbled upon this movie this summer.  And let me tell you, “Kramer Vs. Kramer” well deserves its  Oscar for Best Picture.

In the movie, Ted Kramer is suddenly abandoned by his wife Joanna and left to raise his six-year-old son, Billy, on his own.  Downright compelling, this film keeps your attention for the 105 minutes that Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep grace the screen.

1.The Graduate (1967, PG)

Benjamin Braddock, a recent college graduate, does not know what to do with his future, so he allows his father’s business partner’s wife to seduce him on multiple occasions.   Yet, this relationship with the famous Mrs. Robinson becomes a tad bit complicated when Ben decides to date her daughter.

“The Graduate” is just too good to pass up, and if that’s not enough reason to drop whatever you’re doing to watch it, then the fact that Mr. Feeny from Boy Meets World is in it should suffice.

Plastics, Ben.  Plastics.

By Jacqueline LeBlanc

Think you know a movie that should have made my list? I want to hear it.

Photo by Carleigh Thrower

The metal horses gallop around on the corner of Stadium and Ash in front of Landmark Bank. As financial woes of Americans continue to pile up, it is oddly calming that these strong, metal structures stand outside the local bank’s doors. Protecting us.

Scrap metal makes up the bodies of the horses. From up close you can see what the pieces used to be: car parts, door hinges and too many screws to count. Together they form the strange remuda.

But finance is kind of like these recycled horses, isn’t it? Old businesses sputter out and build into new businesses. Houses sell and resell; change and remodel. Bonds lose value. Currencies are subject to inflation. Somehow though, the system trots on.

The horses stay there, too — their thick wire beam legs planted firmly in the ground, their snouts poking around in the grass for an answer to life’s difficult economic questions.

Harvey “the invisible hoof,” as I’ve dubbed the first horse, is glad to have company. Since the first day the Harvey came to town,  Mark Landrum added other horse sculptures to accompany him. They have become such a landmark (haha .. no pun intended) to the town, that when giving directions to someone I often say “Do you know where the horsie bank is?” And any Columbian would reply, “Of course.”

But, honestly, what I love about the sculptures isn’t just that they are made from recycled metal, or that they are so representative of the banking industry, or that they are landmark material. What I love about them is that they are “public art.” Landmark bank paid for, repairs and protects them, yet still leaves them available for any person to come and admire. This wonderful interest in public art is one of the reasons why Columbia businesses are special.

Sometimes, I drive by and bray at the sculptures. I think they deserve more than just a whinny.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

People waiting for Apple’s new products watch for the unveiling day very carefully.  Last week, Apple finally came through and announced the iPhone 5, a new iPod Touch, a new iPod Nano and a new product to improve upon their headphones – EarPods.

This article will explain all these new updates and products; however, if you’re just looking for one or want to skip around, look to the left and click the different section title to jump down to that part. Read as much or as little as you like.

iPhone 5

Price

Apple just released the iPhone 5 with many updates from the iPhone 4S, but let’s get down to what matters in the end: how much is this going to cost me?

Luckily, it’s not any more than before, as the iPhone 5 (16GB model) costs the usual $200. The iPhone 4S (only available in 16GB) is now $99, and the iPhone 4 (only 8GB) is free. Of course, these prices only apply if you sign a two year contract with either AT&T, Verizon, or Sprint. Pre-order for the iPhone 5 starts on September 14 and ships the next Friday, September 21.

Design and Display

iPhone 5 (Image by Apple.com)

The iPhone 5 improved upon the design standard set by the iPhone 4 and previous iPhones. The display is now 4 inches diagonally but the same width. This, according to Apple, makes using it with one hand just as easy as before. The iPhone 5 expanded in overall height while shrinking its overall width, making it 7.6 mm wide.

The key change in appearance is that the back is no longer all glass, and now has upper and lower glass segments with a slate finish in between. This change, along with the increased height, give the iPhone 5 a distinct new look.

Retina display has been a buzz word for a high resolution display among Apple products. With the iPhone 5’s larger screen, it becomes both a retina and widescreen display. Now, videos and movies should fit perfectly on screen.

Speaking of the screen, the 4 inch display changes how apps will look. For apps to fill the entire screen, each individual app must be updated by the developer. As people make the transition to the larger screen, all of the old apps still work. However, the screen will have subtle black bars at the top and bottom to center the App and make it work exactly like it did on previous iPhones.

Internal Hardware

Inside of the iPhone 5, parts have changed more incrementally. It has the next generation A6 processor, meaning it gets an expected speed and performance boost across the board. The wireless hardware supports newer standards for faster cellular connections through LTE as well as faster WiFi connections. The main hardware upgrade is its ability to better tell when someone is speaking at the iPhone which will improve Siri and its ability to cancel out background noise during phone calls, making it easier to hear the phone even in a noisy environment.

Lightning Connector

Lightning Connector (Image by Apple.com)

Apple ran into the problem that its 30-pin classic iPod connector, originally released in 2003, was too large to fit in its shrinking products. They came up with an improved solution, the Lightning connector named to follow a common them with their ultra-fast Thunderbolt connector on Macs. Lightning is greatly reduced in size and best of all is reversible. No more trying and failing to plug it in upside down! The bad news is that all current accessories won’t work unless using Apple’s $30 adapter to plug it in to the accessories. Changing standards like this one have growing pains of low availability of compatible accessories.

iOS 6 

iOS 6, the upcoming software update for the iPhones and iPod Touches, was briefly reviewed and added on to. The two biggest additions for use with the iPhone 5 are being able to FaceTime any where not just over wifi, and the new camera feature that allows anyone to take large panoramas easily with their iPhone. The rest was all the same from when they announced it a few months back.

iPod Nano 

New iPod Nano (Image by Apple.com)

The iPod Nano was completely redesigned, again. This time Apple changed it to have a larger touchscreen and what is essentially a home button at the bottom. With the larger screen, the iPod Nano can play video again; however, the new design also means the iPod Nano watch craze is over. As expected, the new nano includes the new Lightning connecter like the iPhone 5. Unlike the new iPhone, the iPod Nano now includes an internal pedometer to be used with the Nike+ fitness app on the nano making it even more appealing to be used while working out. The price will be $149 for 16GB when it ships in October.

iPod Touch

New iPod Touch (Image by Apple.com)

After redesigning the iPhone and iPod Nano, Apple didn’t stop before the iPod Touch. The new iPod Touch has a more box-like shape with a matte finish on the back. It is taller and features the new larger screen just like the iPhone 5 does. The hardware updates are similar to the iPhone 5, such as the better wireless and Lightning connector, although the processor on the iPod Touch is back a generation at the A5 chip, which is still an improvement over the old touch.

The major additions were the availability in an array of colors matching the iPod Nano and the ability to use Siri on it. The back of the iPod Touch (and its matching wrist-strap) come in all the same color as the iPod Nanos and iPod Shuffles come in. Siri will finally be usable on the iPod Touch just like it would on the iPhone, a long awaited feature for the iPod Touch.

Apple decided to continue selling the old iPod Touch (16GB) at $199 along with the new iPod Touch (32GB) at $299, both releasing in October like the iPod Nano.

iPod Shuffle

The iPod Shuffle must have drawn the short straw because it was the only one left out of the major upgrades. The only change was in the available colors it comes in to match the iPod Touch and iPod Nano colors. It will sell for $49 with 2GB, just like before.

EarPods (New Headphones) 

Apple EarPods (Image by Apple.com)

This year even the stock Apple headphones got updated. Apple is calling these new headphones EarPods. EarPods have a unique design to better fit the ear and project in toward the ear. They include a few mics for noise reduction and larger controls for ease of use. EarPods are now for sale as a standalone and will be included in all their newly announced product updates.

(Product) RED Color for iPods

Apple has had many (Product) RED iPods in the past and have included their new iPod line-up available in red. (Product) RED is an organization that encourages companies to offer red products where part of the profits go to help fight AIDS. If you buy a red iPod Touch, Nano, or Shuffle, part of your money spent on it will go to this great cause.

Fresh and Fun iPod Ad

The new iPod line has a great fresh and fun ad to go along with them. Check it out!

Wrap-up

Overall, Apple finally made a large update to many of its mobile products. They released a new iPhone 5 with an improved design and features along with a beefed up iPod Touch and Nano. Another added bonus for Apple is that unlike with most of their event and announcements, their stock price went up afterwards. Usually, it will fall from stock holders’ disappointment after having even higher expectations. It looks like this time Apple must have satisfied the public’s hunger for new products.

Be sure to check out apple.com for more information and comment on what you thought about Apple’s iPhone and iPod updates.

By John Gillis

Photo by Maria Kalaitzandonakes

My mom was having a bad day.

It wasn’t anything in particular, but all the little inconveniences and frustrations had piled up and her brow was a deep furrowed line.

That day, I had to go downtown to run a few errands and, fearing going home to the wrath of an angry mother, popped into one of the most delightful stores in The District: Poppy. I perused for a few minutes, cuddling with the corduroy Armadillo baby toy, fingering the flower printed wrapping paper and stopping to gaze up at my favorite section: cards.

I am a sucker for the perfect card.

One of my few collections is a purple box filled to the brim of these with folded pieces of card stock, displaying a message meant for one person, in one moment.

The first card I ever bought from Poppy is still at the bottom of the box, waiting for its time. It has a baby blue back with a bright fuchsia front. The pink cutout creates a mountain of words, and a boy and a girl – holding hands and wearing berets – stands on top of it.

The blue paper behind shows through the pink and proclaims, “Can we? Shall we? One day, very soon. Let us go away together, just you and I, call in sick and go to the sea and hold hands all day, eat our sandwiches on the train, get drunk on fresh air and come home tired and never tell anyone … ever.”

It will live it’s life in the small purple box, along with it’s brothers of condolences, of happy birthdays and of corny love sayings.

But this trip to Poppy, I found a card perfect for that day. This card would have no purple purgatory. It wouldn’t even make it in the envelope.

It said, “It’s a cream soda kind of day.” The off white paper was decorated with a old style soda bottle, and a young girl in braids and a huge smile.

After I purchased my hundredth or so card, I ran to another Columbia favorite, Flat Branch Pub and Brewery. Although they are known for their beer, in my circles, the best thing on their menu is their homemade strawberry cream soda. I bought a pint.

I left the glass bottle, sticky and pink on the edges, leaving a ring on my kitchen counter. I propped the card up next to it, signing, “I hope this makes your day better mama.”

And long after the card was lost and the soda was consumed, I saw my mom smiling. Something so little – a pint of sweetness and a note – can change the entire direction of someone’s face. Suddenly, her day didn’t seem to terrible after all.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes 

What a wonderful morning at Flatbranch Park!! We had a Stream Team pick up today for RBRO. There was beautiful crisp weather that definitely energized us at 8 a.m. this morning. We cleaned up a ton of trash and probably a couple hundred cigarette butts to help keep our water shed healthy and litter free.

We found a football. Hopefully it’s a sign the Mizzou vs. Georgia game will go well tonight!

Our group with all the trash picked up today by us and a few Columbia Stream Team members, as well as a few girls from one of Mizzou’s sororities.

At every level we stopped for a moment, admiring the blue window panes. Each of the pieces of glass has a time of day written in clean white script at the bottom, some even have thoughtful quotations. The time listed is when a photo was taken somewhere in Columbia, as part of the one percent for art project. The windows have been colored a certain blue hue from each of the  photos.

The shades of Columbia. The color of my city. 

Though it was night, by the time we reached the top of the garage the ice cream was melting and leaving little spots of white and purple on the concrete floor. We ate it as fast as we could, but the wind from an approaching storm had picked up and was whipping my hair into the sticky mess.

We went to the edge and looked over. The sky was writhing under its blanket of clouds. And a mid-Missouri summer storm was upon us. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed. Little rain came, but just a mist came over and created a swirling fog.

We sat there, talking about life, poverty, religion – trying to answer all our big questions. And that’s the funny thing about this garage. It isn’t special by itself. But it allows for special moments.

It stands there, grey and erect, waiting for brooding teenagers to disregard the no loitering sign, and make the journey to the top. It waits for them to sit on the dangerous cliff of an edge and discuss the mysteries of life.

It waits for melted ice cream. It waits for goodbye hugs. It waits, because that’s what it is – parking. The garage is not a destination, just somewhere to wait for a little while. But I’ve learned, that in this city, you often learn the most when you’re waiting. Because you see the storm, rather than running through it. You give yourself up to the wind, rather than slamming the door for protection.

And you admire the blue, the many blues of this place. And the many blues of yourself.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

What are your moments on the garage? Comment below to let us know! P.S. Keep it PG.

We had an amazing turn-out for our informational meeting. It was great to see so many kids interested in volunteering at Rock Bridge. Hopefully we can keep up these attendence rates in our core meetings. Also, a huge thank you to all of our core leaders who are incredibly awesome and organized people. It’s going to be a great year!!

I waited in the Mill Creek Elementary lobby area to get shots for kindergarten orientation. I waited in Gentry Middle School’s gym to find out what team I was on (Quest is the best). I waited on the stairs for everyone to move their butts up the steps at Jefferson Junior High School. And ever since then, I’ve been waiting for the parking lot to actually move outside of Rock Bridge Senior High.

I am tired of waiting for graduation. I want to wear the stupid, green robe with the dumb hat. I want to cross the stage, shake Mr. Maus’ hand, get a small holler from my cheering section and get on with my life. I want to move my tassel from one side to the other, take pictures outside Mizzou arena, meet-and-greet all my family and friends at my graduation party, and tie all my loose ends as a high school student. Mainly, I am sick and tired of sitting around and waiting for May 19.

Now that my senioritis has fully kicked in, I am finished with everything. The only reason I’m even arriving at school is so I can take my finals and pass my AP exams. As of right now, all I’m doing is waiting.

I wait for the week to be finished so I can exist in the weekend. I wait for work to end so I can go out with my friends. There’s nothing more irritating than waiting.

The worst part about waiting is the more you think about waiting the slower time seems to pass. I glance at a clock, and it’s only been 10 minutes since I last checked it. My existence as an 18-year-old senior in high school is devoted to waiting. And texting, but mostly waiting. I wait, I wait, and I wait.

I want to graduate. I want to be in college (University of Missouri-Columbia, if anyone was wondering).

Mostly because I’ve spent the last 13 years waiting for it.

Today, I hate waiting.

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.russia-georgia.blogspot.com

As school winds down and seniors prepare to leave for college, independence is at the forefront of their minds. Finally, they will be on their own for the first time in their lives. They can’t wait to go out and be their own person, free from parental rules. This feeling is quite like the one Georgia experienced when they broke off from the Soviet Union.

On this day in history, the Treaty of Moscow was ratified, granting Georgia de jure independence from the Soviet Union.

Georgia originally declared their independence from Russia in 1918 as a result of the 1917 revolutions and the devastation  Russia experienced during WWI. They wanted to build a state to protect Georgia from political and militaristic challenges from the Bolsheviks in Russia, therefore they separated from Russia.

During the three years of independence, Georgia built up a moderate socialist state that included universal suffrage, freedom of speech and a democratically elected legislature. Despite these advances, the newly formed Georgian state still suffered from military conflicts with Turkey, Armenia, and the “Reds” (Soviets) from Russia.

This threat of invasion led to the signing of the Moscow Treaty, in which Russia recognized Georgia as an independent state and in exchange the Georgians would grant the Communist party in Georgia the freedom to organize. However, this peace lasted less than a year and in February, 1921, Russia launched a final offensive attack against Georgia to put down the Democratic Republic of Georgia and bring the territory back into the fold of the Soviet Union.

On May 7, the AP Psychology exam took place, Tom Andes performed at Murry’s and Open mic night was held at The Blue Fugue. But 6225 miles away and 92 years ago, a country was recognized as free for the first time in 117 years.

By: Jessica Jost

Then came along CISPA (Cyber Intelligence Sharing and Protection Act) that also increased control over consumer but for a better purpose than SOPA. SOPA’s main goal was to eliminate privacy to crack down on piracy of copyrighted works; however, CISPA is aimed towards allowing more exchange of usage information in the interest of limiting cyber threats.

Now the purpose of CISPA is great, as it will cut down on cyber threats; however, the privacy concerns are growing greater and greater since it allows companies to share any personal data among them.

As the Huffington Post states, “In passing the measure, the House not only refused to address the privacy concerns raised but instead expanded the areas in which information may be shared beyond just cyber security”. Privacy concerns at this stage may be the downfall of the act in the Senate and the White House.

I have talked about the value of privacy to the average consumer and how it really isn’t a large concern for most people. (See this article.) With the value of privacy so low among modern Internet users, it raises the question would/should anyone care about CISPA? The intended use being to be used against security threats limits CISPA, but companies and the government no longer have to have the consent to do this.

CISPA protects companies from all liability of sharing data with each other that is precisely why many companies have been dead silent about CISPA unlike the big fiasco that SOPA caused.

Gigaom shares the some insight; “CISPA doesn’t harm the self-interest of Silicon Valley companies so they have little incentive to kick up dust.” With little talk on the Internet about this act, it is unlikely that people are fully informed resulting in little debate among the people. People debating always improve current issues and make the people’s voice heard without this CISPA will just pass as is.

CISPA is still in its infancy and still needs the Senate and President’s sign off. Many revisions are ahead of it leading to many changes and alterations. I greatly urge you to read more about CISPA and become an informed citizen.

By John Gillis

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.docboard.org

Every year on July 4, America celebrates the day she declared independence from King George III and Great Britain. But two months before the national holiday, one of the original thirteen colonies celebrates its own declaration of independence.

On this day in history, Rhode Island declared independence from Great Britain.

Founded in 1636 by Roger Williams, Rhode Island was to be a haven for religiously persecuted groups. The colony also became a trading hub for the transatlantic slave trade. Molasses from the West Indies was turned into rum in distilleries in Rhode Island and then traded for slaves on the West African Coast.

Because of the lucrative trade in Rhode Island, the colonists naturally felt restricted by the British. The Sugar Act of 1764 raised the duty on molasses and tightened trade regulations.  This act, along with its brothers like the Stamp Act, contributed to Rhode Island’s and the other twelve colonies’ desire for independence from Great Britain.

On May 4 Rhode Island formally renounced its allegiance to the British crown and within two months the rest of the colonies followed suit and the war for American Independence truly began.

On May 4 the Flashback Assembly took place, the Theatrical Showcase was in the PAC and the Young Republicans club held officer elections.

But 236 years ago and 1,258 miles away, the wave of independence began.

By Jessica Jost

The Catholic church where my aunt and uncle said their wedding vows is demolished. The only thing standing is the cross, which stayed upright through the storm. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh

Our memories are one of the most cherished substances. There has to be a little pocket of brain cells that connect to all other cells, and that little pocket holds our childhood and remembrances.

And when a large sum of these are erased, who wouldn’t be completely entitled to wanting them back?

My childhood full of memories at Joplin could potentially be debatable. Everything that I thought would always be there is now gone, with no evidence it was ever there to begin with. I never studied the wallpaper and intricate coy designs under the glass of the tables in the old Chinese buffet restaurant, and I never examined the houses on Duquesne Road because I didn’t know they would disappear and never be returned, except in my recollections of them.

So many tiny details I left behind, so many thoughts I let slip away because when I spent a large portion of my life in the Joplin community, I had no reason to ever think it was all going to leave. I seem to forget I wasn’t the only one who had ties to this town — that the memories held in this community were far greater than mine alone, trapped inside crumbled buildings and slowly slipping from minds as replacement structures go up.

But since I can’t recall anyone else’s experiences but my own, I can at least share my retentions.

Seeing Joplin as a bustling, green city with plenty of trees and friendly people is hard for me. It being almost a year now, and the things I used to see are fuzzy, things I wished I’d paid attention to.

There were specific places my family and I would always visit, things to be excited about like going to CiCi’s pizza with my sister, Grammie and Grandad when Mom and Dad were out of town. The line was long; the tables dirty, and there were odd (but surprisingly delicious) deserts like chocolate pizza. But it was one of my sister’s and my favorite places, so my grandparents always took us there because we loved it and there was nowhere else we would rather be.

The only place in town that sold organic fruits and vegetables was Dillions and just for my cousins and their need for milk straight from a cow and grapes grown from grape vines (I’ve never seen a need for it), we would trek to Dillions, the old building with a bathroom on the second floor and rugs that hadn’t been cleaned in a while, but that still held a part of my life, even if it was only for an hour or two.

I guess the tragedy has taught me not only to live in my surroundings but to take them in and cherish every moment you have with people and places. Eventually I will forget these foggy memories with nothing to spark them anymore with the new buildings popping up all over town. It’s hard to remember the previous Joplin, the strong Joplin that held my memories, but, with almost a year under the belt in the recovery stage, new memories are already being made, and I’m sure there will be plenty more to make in the future.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

At the moment of acquiring any paper cut, the first word out of my mouth is, “%*&#!,” or something of that profane sort.

The initial minutes of a paper cut aren’t very painful, just obnoxious. It seems no matter where I get it, the paper cut wants to bleed for hours. There must be a special artery in my fingers or my blood flow is really good because it just goes on forever like a Michael Bay film. It’s almost as dramatic, too.

The first thing I want to do is put my finger in my mouth, but that’s disgusting. So none of that; instead, holding a tissue against my finger is the better option. And after the cows come home, it’ll stop bleeding and I’ll toss the tissue and continue with my day.

But that’s when the real trouble starts.

The worst thing about a paper cut is the weeks after first acquiring it. The initial problem that comes along is the Band-Aid question. A paper cut is almost too small to waste a Band-Aid on, especially considering how bothersome a Band-Aid on a finger can be. It gets in the way when I’m writing, picking things up and texting. All of these things are vital to get me through my day unharmed and sane.

Then again, if I don’t put a Band-Aid on it, everything I touch will sting. Anything with salt on it will burn. Anything with alcohol in it (like Germ-X, OK?) will send my paper cut into boiling fury. Warm water even angers my paper cut. There’s also the extremely painful moment when my pencil or pen tugs at my paper cut and pulls the flap part of it back, making it more of a gash than a paper cut.

Once the skin by the cut is loosened, it’s all downhill from there. It’ll snag like a cheese grater, and I’ll be in pain all day.

The only thing worse than a paper cut is a paper cut on the crease of my knuckle. It hurts when I hold things, when I reach for things, when I move. … Basically all the time. It’s unlike any pain on this earth. My hell would be having a paper cut that doesn’t heal while being in a room full of snakes, but I’ll discuss the snakes another day.

Paper cuts take forever to heal. I’ve seen slugs run the New York City marathon faster than some of my paper cuts have healed. The only good thing about a paper cut is the miraculous moment when I realize that it’s gone. After weeks of battling with pencils, pens and potato chips, suddenly my paper cut disappears. I don’t remember its improvement or recovery. It’s gone, just like that. It’s as if some paper cut god has flown down to my house in the night and taken away my grievances. But paper cuts still stink.

Today, I hate paper cuts.

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.news.discovery.com

Friendship is a powerful thing, a bond between two people who would lay down their lives for each other if the time ever came, even if it means leaving behind a young family. One cosmonaut launched into space despite knowing he was destined to never return alive, but he did it to protect his friend.

On this day in history, Vladimir Komarov died when the faulty space ship Soyuz 1 crashed into Earth.

Leonid Brezhnev, the General Secretary of the Soviet Union, wanted to further establish the Russian lead in the Space Race over the United States. The plan was for Komarov to launch into space on the Soyuz 1 and on the next day Soyuz 2 would take off. The two vehicles would meet, Komarov would crawl from Soyuz 1 to the other craft and a crew member from Soyuz 2 would take his place. It was supposed to be a simple mission. But it wasn’t.

The Soyuz 1 had 203 structural malfunctions found by senior inspectors, of whom Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space, was a part of. He was Komarov’s best friend and his back-up commander of Soyuz 1— in the case Komarov could not fly. Gagarin sent a 10 page letter to his KGB friend, Venyamin Russayev, who was to give it to Brezhnev. The letter never made it to him. Everyone associated with the project was afraid of being demoted or sent to Siberia for failing to complete the mission. Russayev was even lowered in rank for having read the letter Gagarin sent.

Through all of this, Komarov had the option of opting out of the flight and sending Gagarin in his place. But he did not back down. Komarov met with Russayev and said he could not back out, “They’ll send the backup pilot instead. That’s Yura. He’ll die instead of me. We’ve got to take care of him.”

On April 23, 1967, the doomed Soyuz 1 launched into space with Komarov abroad. Within minutes of beginning its orbit, the malfunctions began. Navigation was difficult, antennas did not work and the fuel gauge was dangerously low. The launch of Soyuz 2 was canceled.

When Soyuz 1 began its fall to earth, U.S. intelligence in Turkey caught the last words of Komarov. He was on the phone with his wife saying goodbye and also talking to Soviet premier Alexi Kosygin, who was crying. Some interpreters heard him saying, “Heat is rising in the capsule” and that the engineers killed him. No matter the words, he is remembered as crashing to the Earth “crying with rage.”

On April 24, student council representative elections were held, karoke was held at the Hide A Way and 3oNe3 performed at the Blue Note. But 6,314 miles away and 45 years ago, a man died for his friend.

By Jessica Jost

Photo of Raspberry Pi Model B

We all have used computers usually starting from a pretty young age. Most of us now just go straight for the games or the Internet, but wasn’t always this way. Back in the day, kids with access to computers especially in the “text only” computer days had the opportunity to play around with programming. Kids did what kids should do: experiment.

Experimentation with computers was common several years ago; however, as time went on, the drive to do so died with the growing barrier to getting started that wasn’t there originally. The shortening of kids learning has damaged enrollment in computer science fields at colleges and hurt the industry intake of new engineers. With less students feeding in, the field of computer science is dominated by the older generation making it a field with a limited lifespan.

Raspberry Pi set out to try and fix the lack of interest to learn more about computers. They wanted to create a computer with education in mind. It was designed to be small, cheap, and easy to start playing around on.

Raspberry Pi is down to the size of a about a credit card making it easy to transport. The model A is $25, and the model B is $35 that definitely accomplishes the cheap part. (Neither model comes with a monitor, keyboard, or mouse.) An online community is currently developing the educational lesson plans so that a full set of guided tutorials will make getting started even easier. Another hope for the Raspberry Pi is that eventually educational institutions will integrate them in to the student’s normal studies.

“The comparison of this to the family PC is the comparison between the child’s bike and the family car,” said Eben Upton of Raspberry Pi at a TEDx Talk in Cambridge just this year. [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xFzVuxldqs]

“The child can mess around with it, can break it, if they do it is not a disaster,“ He goes on to talk about how the Raspberry Pi really has a chance at renewing the spirit of experimentation with computers in many kids who would have normally never had a chance to try it.

The Raspberry Pi has just been gaining real momentum in this last year. It really is expected to grow as the demand continues to rise.  They are currently aiming to partner with more educational charities in order to get them in to schools and kids’ home.

Model of Raspberry Pi Model B

Anyone can order one online opening everyone the opportunity to l  The first batch of Raspberry Pi’s has just been released, and they are being shipped around the world. You can only pre-order them at one of their distributors, Premier Farnell or RS Components. With any luck, you could get one as early as July this year.

Read more about it at Raspberry Pi’s official site: http://www.raspberrypi.org/

By John Gillis

(All images used under Fair Use Doctrine)

On this day in history, Geraldine “Jerrie” Mock became the first woman to circumnavigate the world in an airplane.

Mock was a the manager of the Columbus Airport in Ohio and the mother of three children. One day she complained to her husband that nothing interested her and she wanted to fly somewhere. His joking reply “Why don’t you fly around the world?” inspired her to attempt to become the first woman to fly around the world.

Before starting her quest, Mock had clocked in with 500 hours worth of flying time, but needed to qualifty for an Instrument Rating that would enable her to fly in all weather conditions. After obtaining her permit, she had 750 hours worth of flight experience.

She left Columbus on March 19, 1964 in a 1953 Cessna 180, christened as “The Spirit of Columbus.” Another woman, Joan Smith,  was also attempting to fly around the world and Mock’s husband urged her to fly faster even though the two women weren’t in competition with one another.

While Mock did not have a disastrous end to her flight like Amelia Earhart did, she did encounter strong winds, icing, and brake problems. She also accidentally landed in a secret military base in Inshaas, where she was interrogated for two hours before being released to continue to Cairo.

After 22,858 miles and 30 days, Mock landed in Oakland, California and was greeted by her husband, journalists, television cameras and a crowd of adoring fans. She was awarded the Gold Medal of the Federal Aviation Administration by President Lyndon B. Johnson and was accredited with setting two official records with the FAI (Federation Aeronatique Internationale) and five unofficial records.

On April 17, the tax deadline for filing income tax passed, Soulfly was presented at the Blue Note and Open Mic night was held at the Bridge. But 48 years ago and 2,171 miles away, the first woman to fly around the world returned home.

By Jessica Jost

However, on my trip from Seattle, Wa. to Minneapolis, Mn., a new type of plane ride came forth and reared its ugly head: the sucky. The plane ride from Seattle to Minneapolis was torture. It wasn’t because I was cramped and had no leg room; instead, it was because of the people I met.

Airports are a beacon for idiots.

Airports call to the lesser intelligent and say, “Please, come forth and become a part of us. Work for us! Ride with us!”

Of course, after I take my seat I am surrounded by those who have never ridden on a plane before. My first plane ride was when I was kindergarten, and so plane rides aren’t foreign to me. You might even call me a semi-frequent flyer.

I can spot a new flyer from ten rows away. These two ladies were new flyers. They had three carry-on bags, a laptop, and two backpacks. After shoving all of their stuff into the overhead compartment, the real festivities began.

The lady on the aisle seat had some kind of phobia that the overhead compartments were going to burst open and spill their contents onto her head. So, to solve this problem, she stood up while the plane was, literally, in its final seconds before take-off and opened and closed the overhead compartment three times.

I think in Sky Mall magazine Delta says to do exactly that if you wanted the carry-on luggage to attack you.

Finally, airports really bring out the ugly in people. While our plane pulled into the Minneapolis airport, the pilot pulled into the wrong spot. So, our unloading of passengers was prolonged by half an hour. Two passengers on the plane were taking a trip from Alaska back to their home in Virginia. They had to make a connection flight 30 minutes after our plane landed. Also, a few rows behind me, a couple needed to catch their connection flight as well. The plane was full of tension.

And of course, instead of letting these people–whose connection flights were necessary to return home from practically the USSR, may I remind you–people just carried on as usual. How unbelievably selfish and awful. Along with that, the couple behind me begged those in front to let them forge ahead. In response, a lady with a frumpy hair style and black swiss backpack sad, “We’re all having the same problem.”

We’re all having the same problem looking at your nasty hair cut and middle schooler backpack, but we’re letting that one go. Sit yourself down and let these people make their connection flight.

Today, I hate people on airplanes.

By Shannon Freese

On this day in history, the Titanic hit an iceberg in the chilly Atlantic Ocean and sunk two hours later.

At 11:40 pm on April 14, the ship hit an iceberg on her starboard side. The lookout crew did not have binoculars which is thought to have prevented the accident. Five of the ships watertight compartments were breached upon hitting the iceberg and the ship began to sink bow first into the ocean. Passengers on the ship were not told immediately of the danger even though the ship had no hope of surviving. When the evacuation did happen, the third class passengers were left to fend for themselves.

The crew was ill-prepared for a large scale evacuation of the ship and many lifeboats were lowered before they were completely full. A “Women and children first” rule was exercised which led to 638 of the 768 adult male passengers going down with the ship. Two hours and forty minutes after the Titanic first hit the iceberg, the ship’s front deck plunged underwater and the ship split in two. All those remaining on the ship fell into -2 degrees celsius sea water and nearly all died of hypothermia.

Nearly an hour and a half after the sinking, the RMS Carpathia arrived on the scene and picked up all 713 survivors. The ship docked in New York City three days after the sinking and the survivors were eager to tell their story. After the sinking, a public enquiry was set up in  the United States and Britain to determine what had led to that fateful night. It was revealed that the Titanic was going too fast through the ice field, the life boats were not properly filled nor crewed, and most importantly there were not enough lifeboats for everyone on the ship, crew included.

In the wake of the disaster, new maritime regulations were imposed and the International Ice Patrol was set up to monitor the icebergs in the North Atlantic and hopefully prevent a disaster the size of the Titanic from happening again.  Efforts were made to recover the bodies lost at sea and memorials were set up in Belfast, Southampton, and New York. The Titanic later became a pop culture phenomenon when James Cameron’s eponymous film was released and because of the movie the ship has remained an important mark on the pages of history.

On April 14, the Columbia Women’s Lacrosse team played at Cosmo Park, Time for Twos was held at the Daniel Boone Library and “Honk” was performed at West Junior High School. But 100 years ago and 2,106.1 miles away, the unsinkable ship dove into the Atlantic Ocean.

By Jessica Jost

Photo by Shawn Crouch

Often times I wish I were a statue: trapped infinitely in one pose, watching others carefully, as their lives pass by me, but I remained unchanged.

I wouldn’t be a quiet statue, a reverent, careful, memory statue.

I’d be loud.

I’d be trapped in Columbia’s Jamboree.

If I were forever rooted in one spot, I’d like to be like the sly cat, satisfied alligator, upturned rabbit, unfortunate gecko and sarcastic frog that play their instruments every day on the grounds of the Boone County Courthouse.

This statue watches my city. It watched me grow from a tiny tot who climbed all over the gator’s banjo, to a zitty pre-teen who posed awkwardly in front of them and now to a fully-fledged Columbian who understands these wise creatures.

The animals of Jamboree watch my city. And if I were a statue, I, too, would be contented to sit there with a silly grin plastered on my face through rain and snow and chaotic Missouri hail just to see the changes.

I think it would be easier to be a statue because I wouldn’t cry as seniors left my city; I wouldn’t worry as money for the town got tight.

I would be satisfied to attach my happy eyes on the skyline and my iron feet to the pavement and know that this city, my city, would be all right.

Jamboree knows. Jamboree has seen, and Jamboree will stay frozen there, in front of the Courthouse, long after I am gone.

As much as I call Columbia my city, Columbia is the statue’s city, forever.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

When I want to buy a candy bar at the store, I sit there and stare at the case until someone prompts me to hurry up, so I pick the first one I see. When I need to decide what to do Friday night with my friends, I always say “I don’t care,” and I allow everyone else to decide.

When it came to college, I again tried to make other people choose for me. I asked every person close to me what they thought I should do. But of course, they never made the decision for me and told me I had to do it myself, as if it was a life changing decision or something.

But it was.

Instead of having the normal college decision of which college to pick, I had to decide whether I wanted to swim in college or not. If you had asked me at the beginning of the year, I would have screamed, “Yes!” and told you how excited I was to get away and start a new chapter in swimming. I got letters, emails and phone calls from coaches. Not many of them really blew me away, except for Truman State. I had visited there my junior year, purely for academic purposes, and loved it. When the coach emailed me back one day saying he wanted to talk to me and have me come down to visit, I was almost brought to tears. I was so excited that I could maybe go to the college that I loved.

Then it all ended.

After weeks of stagnant responses from Truman, and me sending out emails to other schools for backups, the Truman coach replied, saying I couldn’t go there. When I read the email during A lunch one day, I couldn’t help but cry on my best friend Conner’s shoulder. Now what was I going to do?

When I got home, my mom was on a rampage. She made me email every college I was willing to swim at and force them to look at me. Then she made me do the unthinkable; she made me look at colleges that I couldn’t swim at, which meant not swimming at all. I got a lot of responses, but after William Jewell fell through, I became defeated. I started hating swim practice. My motivation decreased. At home the topic of conversation every night was if I really wanted to swim or not. Did I want to change my whole life all together?

On a whim, I visited MU with my boyfriend and our parents. We toured the campus and had a private tour of the college of education. Going in I was very reluctant, thinking that I would hate it. But I was floored. I fell in love with MU after that visit. So when I got home that night, I had to make a decision: go to MU or swim?

Again, I asked every person I knew for their perspective. I could swim at the University of Nebraska-Omaha or Drury University. Both were great options, but I just didn’t feel right about either one. All the people I asked told me it was my decision until a few told me flat out not to swim.

That hit me hard. Then when I talked to my swim coach about what was going on, and he walked me through it all, I made the decision. I was going to MU.

I know it’s cliché, but it felt like a weight was lifted. A few weeks after my decision, and a few struggles with my mom, I walked away from swimming altogether. Now, I have the excited feeling I had at the beginning of the year again.

I can’t wait to get to MU and begin college. I finally made a decision.

By guest writer Bri Noltie

Photo by Halley Hollis

I wasn’t much of a delinquent as a kid.

Somehow, I kept my crazy ideas to myself, spending my days in the barely existent library of Columbia Independent School.

But, every once in a while, the teachers would open the doors and my friends and I would pour outside.

When I was a scrawny, awkward seventh grader with wavy hair and crooked teeth, CIS rested in Hickman Hall on the Stephen’s College campus. Said campus was (and still is) sprinkled with bridges that connected the buildings above the bustling streets, and each one led to a new venture.

The bridges always tempted my semi-controlled “wild side.” My friends jumped on my back and we would have races back and forth across a bridge, trying to see who had the most strength and endurance.

My buddies would squeal in surprise and excitement as they tipped precariously close to the edge of the bridge, staring down at the passing cars below. Then our P.E. teacher would catch us, sending us giggling back to the cafeteria across the street.

Every crossing was a different story. There was one man who gained infamy among my friend group, simply because he was a Stephen’s Bridge crosser. We would see him every day, right before P.E., leaned against the stone and bricks. He was always holding a Rt44 slushie from Sonic, usually cherry, and a baseball cap rested atop his ginger hair. Standing on the Stephen’s Bridge, he would stare us down as we passed. Sometimes, he was even muttering into an old-fashioned flip-phone.

Thus, we immediately deemed him, “The Stephen’s Stalker.”

The “Stalker” helped us pass time, in the weird way only inside jokes can. We spent our winters, springs and autumns running across the bridges, sprinting from cafeteria to school, school to park, park to college center. We passed the “Stalker” and carefully averted our eyes, squeaking silly things like, “What if he follows us?” or “That slushie has to be twice the size of his head!”

We would make “dessert runs” in the early afternoon, skipping across the bridges with brown napkins in hand. Oatmeal raisin cookies, sometimes up to four per person, were hoarded from the cafeteria, and we carried them back to Algebra as the older boys told us jokes and the girls traded fashion tips. Not that we knew the first thing about fashion. We were fourteen, for goodness’ sake.

The bridges, in those early years of my life, were an obscure symbol of freedom, of taking the first steps towards adult responsibility. It was along those railings that I discovered the world around me, as taught by emerald green grass, dirty sidewalk pavement, and trash tossed onto screeching trucks below. I raced the rain and helped dry my best friend’s tears, as she and I braved the traumas that come with the unknown.

I didn’t know it then, but the bridges weren’t just a literal connection from one street to another. They were a tunnel from childhood to adolescence, and they made the rocky road just a little bit smoother.

By Lauren Puckett

So when it came time in early fall for me to start picking colleges to apply to, I really had no idea where to start. Should I choose possible choices based on location (somewhere exotic please), strong majors (it would be useful to know what I would like to study, of course), or simply where my parents suggested (Mizzou)? I ended up applying to a wide range of places, all based on various reasons:

I applied to the University of Alabama — Tuscaloosa because my father completed his residency there. I was born there, so it seemed like a pretty capital idea.

I applied to Duke University as well as the University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill because they have strong international studies programs, and I happen to think that North Carolina is a pretty cool place.

I applied to the University of Texas’ McComb Business School just to show my good friend, Alex Burnam, how awesome I am.

I applied to Tulane University because the application was free and took zero effort, and to MU for just about the same reason.

I truthfully have no idea why I applied to the University of Virginia, I just felt a strong urge to do so one day while eating tacos.

I applied to the University of Florida – Gainesville because I would really love to learn to surf, and it’d probably take about 4 years of intense study; coincidentally the time I would spend at that esteemed center of learning to reach a rudimentary level in that particular water sport.

I applied to the University of Miami for exactly the same reason.

I applied to KU to piss my parents off; it worked.

Somehow, I completed all these applications with generic fill-in-the-blank essays, and was amused when my parents erupted with cries of jubilation, triumph, and congratulations every time I received an acceptance letter. Those were the days. Unfortunately, getting accepted is only half the process. After acceptance comes scholarships, housing, vaccinations, registrations and an endless barrage of mail that seems to tell me exactly the same information with every glossy new flier.

After interviews for Texas’s Honors Business School, Alabama’s Blount Undergraduate Initiative, Miami’s Full Ride Singer Scholarship, and countless other additional honors program applications, my choices easily narrowed themselves down for me based on who’s willing to give me the most money. My big choice (cue dramatic music) is now between the University of Alabama – Tuscaloosa and the University of Florida – Gainesville.

While before I hadn’t been able to rouse even a speck of enthusiasm when my parents sparked conversations about where I’m possibly going to spend the next four years of my life, now I feel myself slightly conflicted. I thought I’d be brilliant and come up with a pros and cons chart of each, but that got me absolutely nowhere, as they just about weigh each other out.

Both schools are large state universities, are located in total college towns, will allow me to participate in honors programs, and have diverse student lives. They also both have strong sports’ cultures, which is a guilty pleasure of mine – going to a school that doesn’t have a strong football team would just be wrong (which completely eliminated about half the places I applied to).

Clearly, both schools are pretty similar, and choosing between the two is going to be tough. Going to Florida based on my need to surf is apparently not enough of a reason, and choosing Alabama just because it’s very, very far away also doesn’t have much credibility. Both colleges will enable me to double major in political science and business-marketing, after which I will continue to get graduate degrees in business and law.

Therefore, I’ve decided to choose my school based on the campus. I visited Alabama last fall, and I have to say, the campus really blew me away. Alabama has roughly the same number of students as MU, but a much, much larger campus, full of huge trees, limestone and brick buildings just bursting with columns, European-looking domes and sloping lawns. I will be visiting Florida next weekend, after which I will decide. Alabama was pretty great, so Florida’s going to have to top that; I’ve heard from many that it just might.

Choosing a college, for me, comes down to where I want to spend the next few years of my life. With these two extremely similar schools, it’s not too hard to picture myself enjoying life both in Tuscaloosa and in Gainesville, so I’m hoping that Florida’s campus makes my decision clear.

By guest writer Abby Thompson

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.mariananderson.org

Music is an undeniably powerful form of expression. It can move people to tears. It can brighten the spirit of a room, and it can also invigorate a nation in the throes of prejudice.

On this day in history, Marian Anderson sang in front of the Lincoln Memorial after being denied permission to sing in Constitution Hall by the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR).

Most people say that waiting is the hardest part, but actually having to make a decision is worse. Soon after the acceptance letters arrived, I found myself inundated with letters, testimonials, and preview days all similarly telling me why I should come to college X.

“Well, you went to the Bryn Mawr day last year,” my dad said, scrolling down on the website.

“Yeah, but that was a year ago.”

“No, she should really visit Macalester,” my mom chimed in.

“But I’ve been there so many times!” (Practically everyone on my mom’s side of the family has gone there.)

“You’ve never been to a French class there ,and you already went to one at St. Olaf and Bryn Mawr. And we could drive there.” Ah, the best part, we could drive there and avoid the hassle of airports and save money! So that decided it, my dad and I would make the long trek up to the Twin Cities for Macalester’s preview day on April 12^th. To tell the truth my dad seemed more excited than me.

“I don’t want to have to miss a lot of school.”

“It will only be two days. I need to sign you up before it fills up.”

“Fine,” I said. He busily went to his computer, began his hunt and peck method of typing, and drafted numerous emails to the volleyball coach, admissions, and the head of the French department wanting to set up meetings and class visits.

Even though I’ve grown up constantly hearing about Macalester, I have really only been an outside observer. I suppose that when I return from my visit to Macalester I will have a pretty good sense of the school and whether or not I “fit in.”

Each school, Macalester, Bryn Mawr, and St. Olaf has its unique qualities and strengths. They are all strong in French, which I hope to major in, and I would be able to play on the volleyball team. I feel as though each week my opinion is swayed from one college to another. One week I was certain that Bryn Mawr was where I definitely wanted to go. But then, my admissions counselor from St. Olaf called and I thought, well, maybe I really want to go to St. Olaf. At this point in time, all I can truly say is that each school is a wonderful option. I am positive that no matter where I choose to go to school, I will be happy.

Who would have known that such a tiny word could have a life altering impact.

Guest author Cora Trout

One of the seven extreme makeover homes belongs to the Cogdill family. Single mom Crystal raises only son David after his brother, 9-year-old Zach was crushed by a utility pole during the tornado. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh

When I heard the Extreme Makeover Home Edition show would be conducting its series finale in Joplin, I could hardly contain my excitement. The home makeover show has been one of my favorites since I could remember, and the fact that it was coming to help those less fortunate after the Joplin tornado was an absolute blessing.

I assumed the team would only be building a home for one lucky family. I was surprised and delighted to hear that seven homes would be built in a week for several deserving people who did remarkable things in their community before and after the tornado struck.

However, the Extreme Makeover team did more for this town and its people than just build houses for a small fraction of the near 8,000  that lost their homes; instead they gave hope to a broken community and strengthened the bonds among wounded families.

With a design team of Ty Pennington, Paul DiMeo, Paige Hemmis, Michael Moloney, Tracy Hutson and a volunteer core of approximately 13,000, they group’s assignment was to build seven houses for seven families in seven days.

Passing by these newly built homes weeks after the show aired was almost humorous in a way, for these seven houses could be seen from a mile away, sticking out like a sore thumb among the flattened foundations surrounding them. Just up the road from the famous Cunningham park, which was also redesigned and restored by the volunteers, the houses ranged from beach themed to modern and angular houses with separate garages facing an alley that runs behind the houses.

On the far left in the line of houses stands the home of the Howard family, a red and stone mix fit for a fireman on duty during the catastrophe. Next the Walters family home showcased a beach-themed abode equipped with a skateboard ramp in the back yard; this house was followed by the Nevins family estate, which resided in a green-themed modern habitat. The two Crystals –  Crystal Cogdill and Crystal Whitely  - both lost children in the disaster and now live side-by-side, just as they did before the tornado, with their yards now connected on the on their left and right for their surviving children to play together. The Nguyen family, Vietnamese immigrants who were saved by eating out the night of the disaster, reside in a humble cottage that has been decorated with peaceful feng sui. Last is the Gonzalez-Ely family, whose occupants include newly-weds Scott and Natalie and Natalie’s son Augie. Augie was wearing a bicycle helmet during the catastrophe, so when a porcelain toilet smashed against his head, the helmet saved his life.

Although this particular miracle was extremely helpful and beneficial to seven families, this feat by the Extreme Makeover crew affected this entire town. If a team of five designers and volunteers can build seven houses for seven families, that’s seven less homeless now.

There is hope instilled in these citizens to create an even better life for themselves, even though some have lost everything. They strive not only to sustain themselves, but to sustain others in their same predicaments. This community has the strength to rebuild, and it might need a push from time to time to help take these baby steps, but these encouraging words and gifts only remind the people of their ambitions to succeed.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

Being tan can make an attractive person 10 times more attractive. There are points in time where a tan can make a person less attractive, but it’s only in one scenario: fake tans.

The best thing about fake tans is that the people with them either don’t realize their tan is noticeably fake or are completely embarrassed by the level of fakeness. There’s a simple way to tell these two people apart. The people who don’t realize the orange-ness of their skin accept compliments graciously. The people who do realize the orange-ness accept comments reluctantly, usually following their acceptance with an “I know it’s bad.”

There are so many different types of fake tans, and they’re all blatantly obvious. My least favorite is the tanning lotion. It’s really easy to miss spots with, and it makes tans really uneven — especially if the user doesn’t know how to apply it correctly. So not only are its users orange, but also splotchy as if they’ve had an allergic reaction. It’s really gross. Besides, if the lotion-er is that desperate and that lazy, he deserves the quality that the lotion gives them.

The other type is the spray tan. I, personally, don’t know anything about spray tans except for what I’ve heard about them. From what I’ve heard, they’re hard to maintain and hard to get done well. And in order to get a good one, you’ll be paying for a good one.  When I encounter someone who has used a spray tan, I can usually tell right away by the orange on their cuticles.

Congratulations, the world officially knows they’ve been sprayed. There’s no splotchy, but actually worse — the tan’s pure orange.

In the end, the best way to tan is to lie out in the sun. It sucks, and it’s timely and it’s honestly hard work. But it’s worth it. It’s better than lathering layers of lotion on.

Today, I hate fake tans.

By Shannon Freese

Photo by Muhammad Al-Rawi

Every Columbian has seen the attentive ice cream guard dog who sits outside Sparky’s downtown, 21 S. Ninth St. He has the happy eyes and the slouchy smile of a bulldog. He stands forever still, with an almost audible whine inviting walkers to come in.

This place is city landmark, but, each time people come in they go quickly to the counter, buy their homemade ice cream, and leave, without a second thought about the place. The building itself is alive, and has its very own bright green personality.

Covering the glass doors and windows are many colored posters and flyers proclaiming the various going-ons of the city. They overlap, and as the corners peak out from below, they become almost a Columbia paper trail mosaic. The place smells like vanilla, and the chairs, all in bright colors and geometric shapes, surround little, round made-for-two tables. In the corner a woman sits with her fur lined coat about her shoulders and one hand holding her toppling strawberry cone and the other balancing a paperback book. With a little dribble of pink ice-cream on her chin, she is completely absorbed by her book and sweet.

In the front of the building, the parlor–like lights shine brightly on the multi-colored sweets. Classic flavors like chocolate and cake batter represent themselves, but so do local favorites like Rice Krispie Treat.

After settling down in the seat, with a chosen ice cream, float or shake, the visitors realize they are far from alone. Crocheted animals and cartoon characters look down from their various perches — an attentive, and sometimes creepy, audience. Paintings, too, seem to have their eyes on the customers – Multiple clown frowns, two alien abduction scenes and an Asian boy with buckteeth, are an eerie addition to the sugar cones.

When the ice cream is enjoyed, and every finger is satisfactorily sticky, the chairs screech back into place, the door swings shut, and Sparky – the faithful bulldog – barks goodbye, come again soon.

So next time a visit to Sparky’s is in order, take a moment. Savor not only the ice cream, but the place, for that is what’s really special about it.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Adobe is in development of its new product Photoshop CS6. The company just released the beta and made it free to download for those with Adobe accounts. The beta will expire when the real thing goes on sale later this year. I have downloaded it myself and am here to give you the scoop.

Adobe has really been talking up Photoshop’s new and improved content-aware tools. The tools seem to be able to do some amazing things like completely moving a person in a photo in three clicks. Check out the video below from Adobe talking about these new tools:

[video: http://www.youtube.com/user/Photoshop?v=Uu5HPCkcSDY ]

Those quick edits look pretty amazing, but I was skeptical of how well it works in real application. I tried it myself with a photo of my brothers and me from years ago. It really was that easy for decent edits in just a few minutes; however, the result wasn’t quite as perfect as Adobe describes it to be. Here are the before and after edits of the photo. See how many differences you can spot.

Original photo

After quick editing with Photoshop CS6

I made all edits shown in the photos in under five minutes, including the learning curve of the tool. I used the content-aware move, extend and patch tools only.

Now I realize that it is not perfect nor anywhere near a good finished product, but it does accomplish an advanced edit quickly, and users can still touch up the photo after. It gives every user a good starting point and provides a decent result. It isn’t a huge gain for professionals who just bought the last version. Though, for the average consumer who wants to mess around, it will definitely be worth the money and the wait. Check out the link below to download Photoshop CS6 Beta from Adobe Labs to test it out. Then buy it when it releases.

http://labs.adobe.com/technologies/photoshopcs6/

By John Gillis

[Source: http://blogs.adobe.com/photoshopdotcom/2012/03/photoshop-cs6-operating-system-support-and-beyond.html ]

There is just something about digging your own little toes in the dirt. There is something about sitting cross legged in the grass while picking at each blade that surrounds you. There is just something about lying on the ground staring at the brilliantly blue sky and thinking, ” Wow, what a wonderfully simple day.”

It’s getting close to the end of the year, which means all kinds of deadlines are due. To shed some light on my current situation, I am a junior graduating a year early. As of August last year I officially became a member of the 2012 graduating class, which I couldn’t be more honored that they are having me and are more than welcoming to me. But what this also meant was I had one less year to figure things out, one less year to work on test scores, one less year to plan my freaking life.

In light of that, my biggest weakness is still that I don’t plan a single thing; so when my guidance counselor told me I would need to have each and every element done by a certain date, it was overwhelming, just like it was for every other senior. Luckily, it’s the end of March; the worst of it is over and the best is yet to come, which means more time for me and my lovely partners in crime to have the time of our lives for the end of the year, creating the perfect way to start the next chapter.

In other words, life has yet to slow down.

The calendar is full and events are being planned. However, I do take my days off. I spent one of those days at Bethel park. The weather was perfect and the water glistened as if it was a pool full of a million crystals. After taking in the surroundings, my company and I furthered the classic park day experience by tossing a football. Yes, yes for those of you that know me the image of my arm swinging if an effort toward a spiral is the biggest laugh of your day, but you would be surprised, my friends. The laid-back environment stirred up easy conversation and a lightheartedness that isn’t seen every day. The laughter rolled off the tip of my tongue with ease, all because of the beautiful day at the park.

Everyone has stressors, whether it is because graduation is creeping up and decisions need to be made or it’s a rough day at work and social issues nag at you. Problems are inescapable. But the best part about these problems is without them we wouldn’t realize how wonderful a simple day at the park really is. Without the bad days, we wouldn’t appreciate the good ones. Those blades of grass are a simple, beautiful thing in life.

So don’t go another day without visiting a park.

By Sonya Francis

Edward IV of York intended to march on King Henry VI of Lancaster’s army in hopes that he could inflict a fatal wound on the Lancasters’ claims. Henry was a pious man and his wife, Margaret of Anjou, was given complete freedom to employ her military officials. Both sides agreed during parlay before the battle that no quarter would be given during the fight, simply meaning that no mercy would be shown to either side. Legend has it that that because of this stipulation, the battle field had to be cleared of fallen soldiers several times in order for the armies to be able to charge one another.

Lord Fauconberg led the initial Yorkist army charge against the Lancasters during a blizzard. With the snow blowing into the Lancaster army, the archers’ visibility was interrupted and the Yorks took advantage by sending roughly 120,000 arrows a minutes towards the Lancastrian army. The Lancasters gave up their bows and instead engaged the Yorks in hand to hand combat. Despite Edward’s encouragement on the frontlines, the York army was pushed further and further back. It wasn’t until the Earl of Norfolk arrived with fresh men that the Yorks were able to find their courage and overcome the advancing Lancastrian army.

The Lancastrian army broke formation and fled Towton with the Yorks in hot pursuit. It is speculated that more men died the rout following the battle than the battle itself. Henry VI and his wife, Margaret, fled to Scotland after the battle and Edward IV was crowned as the King of England.

On March 29, Free Line Dancing was at Cedar Creek Saloon, Karaoke Night was at Sky Hi Grill, and a Texas Holdem Tournament took place at Pem’s Place. But 551 years ago and 4,534.8 miles away, a usurper fought for his birthright.

It was a specific lyric that caught my attention: “Shopping online for deals on some writable media, I edit Wikipedia…” Oh God, I thought. I do edit Wikipedia. And wasn’t my last guilty pleasure about online shopping? So this is it. I am definitely white and nerdy — and one of my guiltiest pleasures is editing Wikipedia.

I started editing about two years ago when I was a freshman. I could spend hours searching for a page that hadn’t been created yet or looking up the most absurd topics and researching them, then adding information to their Wikipedia page.

My latest endeavor has been a small addition to the Carob page, a food that most people don’t know of and looks kind of like brown locust tree pods. I added how it is eaten. I’ve tried eating the locust tree pods that fall in my backyard, thinking it may have been the same thing, only to find out that it’s definitely not.

Making even small additions to Wikipedia pages makes me feel accomplished, like I’ve contributed something good for the future of something, even if it sounds insignificant.

I’ve tried adding bogus and phony information before — just as a test — and surprisingly, Wikipedia is very diligent and quick to get rid of false information. Sometimes I go back and revisit the pages I’ve added to, just to make sure my additions are still there,  wondering how many people have seen it since.

Whenever I go on a Wikipedia page, I rate them, too. And after I submit a rating, it always asks, “Did you know you can edit this page?”  And every single time, I excitedly click the edit page and get to work. I would never tell anyone that I do such nerdy things, but today, I’m coming clean. I edit Wikipedia. For fun.

By Jude El Buri

The barren lands of Joplin after the deadly tornado struck. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh.

When the air suddenly turns chilly, the wind picks up and the clouds start dancing in circles, Mother Nature is hinting that it could be time to duck and cover. The severity and danger of rotating winds is overlooked sometimes. The damage caused is mind-boggling. Who could fathom the force of these winds, which tear structures from their foundations and fling semis hundreds of yards?

There isn’t much warning either. I’ve witnessed suspicious clouds develop into a vortex of insanity within minutes.

Before a tornado, you can usually notice the winds pick up and trees strain as the gusts push them parallel with their roots; the clouds sometimes reflect a greenish hue. A funnel cloud, where the clouds spin and wispy fingers extend toward the ground, is often present.

But different tornadoes embrace different habits, sometimes even striking out of blue skies. A few years ago when I lived in Neosho, my family was eating dinner on the screened-in porch, watching the sunset and paying no mind to the clouds in the distance.

Out of nowhere blasts of wind pushed in from the west side, pelting us with rain and flinging our plates off the table in a chaotic mess while Mom shouted “Save the pork steaks!” as we all grabbed plates of food and scrambled into the house.

Even though sometimes sudden, possible tornadoes are commonly easy to see coming. In unusually warm weather, like the kind we are experiencing, tornadoes multiply from a simple cold front from the north. Being 20 degrees above the average temperature in March, if winds from Canada decide to share their cool with us, our tropical temperatures will not leave without a fight.

Of course, as often as these traits of budding tornadoes occur in southern Missouri, battening down the hatches wasn’t a term taken seriously enough as it should have been before the Joplin tragedy. Most people wait out a tornado or even sit near windows to watch – not a good idea.

My sister and I were lucky that my parents are light sleepers. With the tornadoes usually occurring at night, Briana and I would be sound asleep when our parents raced into our rooms and assembly lined us down the basement steps along with our pets.

Although our family took tornadoes seriously, most didn’t, and thanks to the Joplin tornado, many people are more informed about tornado safety. Just seeing those reports and pictures or visiting the destruction, residents all over the country suddenly took interest in buying storm shelters and taking shelter in basements or bathrooms when storm sirens sound. Tornadoes can happen anywhere and at any time. Without warning cities are leveled and graves are dug.

At any sign of a tornado, don’t learn things the hard way or think it couldn’t happen to you because that is exactly what Joplin residents thought until this tragedy changed their lives. These natural disasters are not something to take lightly. Taking simple safety precautions can be a difference of life and death in this situation, and not taking twisters seriously can be a deadly mistake. This time of year is prime for nasty weather, and if and EF5 tornado ripped through Columbia at this moment, would you be prepared?

By Kaitlyn Marsh

The Internet started simply and quietly. Stanford and UCLA had built a link between them that would allow data to be transfer from one to the other in 1969. Digital connections between the two proved successful and grew larger to the point where many universities had such connections. This growth made the invention of email practical in 1971.

With email the Internet started its first steps toward mass communication among people not based upon location. The next major step didn’t happen until twenty years later with the first webpage in 1991. Average people could gain mass knowledge from their computer. Fast forward to the near past, 2004, The Facebook, later known just as Facebook, was released to college students. Facebook allowed everyone to be free and openly communicate on a scale like never before.

The current amount of open-communication has been scaring un-favored leaders for years because it is a major threat to their authority and control of the people. The power of the Internet can be easily seen in the recent Egypt and Libyan rebellions. The people gathered and rallied against their government. This is something that China has been worried about for years. That’s why they have large blocks and control over what sections of the Internet you are allowed to access while inside of China. For example, Facebook is not allowed at all. Even when China’s Internet surfers Google something the results are filtered by Chinese government. A huge chunk of the Internet is unavailable to China.

Iran’s situation will be much worse than China’s. With China, there is limited access to the world, but Iran they will be completely cutting off the rest of the world. This will limit the sites down to only the sites hosted in Iran (and under their control). They plan to create the very first nationwide intranet. An intranet is when you connect a group of computers together, but do not connect that group to other networks (a.k.a. the Internet). There will be no physical wires connecting them to the outside world making it impossible for even professionals to bypass this block. They are essentially trapped in a bubble when it comes to communication.

In the United States, we are lucky enough to have very open communications with the world around us. We had a scare with SOPA attempting to block us in the same way, but we rallied together and stopped Congress from passing it. So next time you login to Twitter or Facebook, remember how lucky you are to have the ability and right.

[Source: cnet.com, sixrevisions.com]

By John Gillis

Feature photo by Muhammad Al-Rawi

The red cursive letters pull late night food scavengers to the second-floor restaurant. The steps to Formosa, 913 E. Broadway, are steep and hidden from sight; each one lets out a creaky whine as hungry citizens tramp up them.

At the top they take a left, pushing open the glass door and letting it bang behind them. The chimes let the cooks know they have customers, and –inside everything smells like chicken.

The booths are narrow, perfectly suited for intimate conversations. And the tables are pushed close together, making eavesdropping a delightful dinner game. Classic Chinese fabrics cover every inch of the place, transforming the tiny shop into a red and gold palace.

Next comes the piled high plates of fried rice, Peking duck and pot stickers. The air quickly grows thick with the smells, and the dim lighting adds to the quiet calmness seeping in. Costumers clear their plates, forkful by forkful.

The satisfactory stretching of the belly leads to an obligatory after-meal closed eyes moment. In one second, when seeing is not important, sounds take over. The clinking of utensils, the quiet accented questions of the waitress and the out of place, yet incredibly endearing, Lady GaGa music compose their own late night symphony.

There’s a crack from the fortune cookie, as it breaks apart, setting free the message inside: thoughtful nuggets of wisdom or even sarcastic tidbits.

Here in Columbia, in the second story of a ramshackle building, is an urban masterpiece. Big cities and late night Chinese food are a hushed and perfect love affair. The partnership cements itself in soy sauce, florescent lighting and piles of white take out boxes.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.time.com

The worst fear of any prison warden is the escape of their most high profile prisoners. Murderers, rapists, forgers, etc., any convict falling into these categories would frighten the general population and if they escaped, then there would be a massive search to get them back into a secure facility.

So, of course, when the world’s formerly most powerful man escapes prison, a war is the only logical way to return him to his captors.

On this day in history, Napoleon Bonaparte arrived in Paris and began his Hundred Days Rule.

Exiled to Elba after the capture of Paris and his subsequent abdication, Napoleon retained his title as emperor and went to work building up a navy, developing iron mines and issuing decrees on modern agricultural methods. However, when he became of aware of rumors that he would be sent to a remote island in the Atlantic Ocean, he escaped from Elba on Feb. 26 and set sail for the mainland of France.

The fifth regiment of the line was sent to interrupt his return to France. When Napoleon was within gunshot range, he cried, “Here I am. Kill your Emperor, if you wish.” The regiment replied “Vive L’Empereur!” and marched with Napoleon to Paris

Upon arriving in Paris, he promised the peasants that they would not lose their land to the emigres, he promised fiscal reform to the city dwellers and to all Frenchmen he promised peace and prosperity. Of course, with the beginning of the Hundred Days Rule also came a war with Britain, Prussia, Russia and Austria.

Napoleon’s storied second rule was devoted almost entirely to securing his position and waging war on his enemies. He was defeated at the Battle of Waterloo and sent to a much more secure prison on the Island of St. Helena where he died a broken man in 1821.

On March 20, an informational meeting was held in the RBHS cafeteria at 7pm for the RBHS Bruin Girls, the school underwent a tornado drill in the afternoon and girl’s soccer had a rain out against Lee’s Summit, but 4,514 miles away and 197 years ago, the world’s most famous convict returned to Paris.

By Jessica Jost

Twenty-five different songs that accompanied the best and worst moments from way back when as a first grader, after the bus ride home from Green Pines Elementary in Wildwood, Mo., the first and most important thing to do on the walk home was to get out my NSYNC key chain. It played three of personal favorites songs: “Bye Bye Bye,” “No Strings Attached” and “Pop.” There was something about those songs that gave me an extra kick in my step — as a first grader that is.

It’s been a few years, however, and I’m certain I couldn’t listen to those three songs in their entirety anymore. But music has stayed with me always. I skipped forward a few years from elementary to middle school and created a playlist of songs that had rocked out my first school dance; it blasted through the windows until the neighbors could hear and couldn’t be sung without a hairbrush in tow.

Now as I near graduation, my favorite songs reflect the stage I’m in now. But it’s fun to remember who I have been on my way here. Llisten to this collaboration, and you’re bound to let the words, “Oh my god I remember this song,” roll off your tongue.

Warning: content may be offensive.

1)      This Love by Maroon 5 

2)      Sugar, We’re Going Down- Fallout Boy 

3)      My Name is- Eminem (this one is just kind of weird)

4)      Slide- Goo Goo Dolls

5)      American Idiot- Green Day

6)      My Humps- The Black Eyed Peas (the song in general is um…)

7)      Gold Digger- Kanye West (there are some scantly dressed ladies)

8)      Temperature- Sean Paul

9)      Beautiful Soul- Jesse McCartney

10)  Mr. Brightside- The Killers

11)  Hips Don’t Lie- Shakira

12)  Sk8tr Boi- Avril Lavigne

13)  Stacy’s Mom- Fountains of Wayne

14)  Suga Suga- Baby Bash

15)  First Cut is the Deepest- Sherly Crow

16)  Ignition (remix)- R. Kelly

17)  Just the Girl- Click 5

18)  1,2 Step- Ciara

19)  Collide- Howie Day

20)  Ms. Jackson- Outkast

21)  Cool- Gwen Stefani

22)  Be My Escape- Relient K

23)  Rock your Body- J. Timberlake

24)  Chariot- Gavin Degraw

25)  She Will be Loved- Maroon 5

So, don’t go another day without making time to create your own playlist of memories. After all who doesn’t want to rediscover the simple days through a few meaningless lyrics that meant the world at one time or another?

By Sonya Francis

These services started and originally all appeal to us because we naturally are interested. As internet users grew more savvy, popularity of these services increased, more personal information, and the advertisers released the money at stake. Facebook alone generated 3.1 billion dollars in revenues from advertising companies, mind-blowing numbers from a company that didn’t exist 10 years ago.

Another example of how much personal information is worth is Google. Reputation.com, a privacy firm, has estimated that the information you provide to Google is worth $5,000 a year; however, they have no intentions of sharing the spoils. Though consumers must not seem to mind. ENISA, the European Network and Information Sharing Agency, states in a recent study that the average consumer values privacy at just 65 cents, very little compared to how much Google is profiting.

The value of privacy difference among companies and consumers leaves many worried. Luckily, there are easy ways to stay private. The simplest is just don’t login to online services, but that may be the hardest thing to do. Another step towards better privacy and security is to turn on private browsing. (In chrome, you just have to open an incognito window by pressing control+shift+n for Windows and command+shift+n for Macs.)

Finally, just remember what you post online will remain there and be available to everyone.

[Sources: threatpost.com, smartmoney.com, huffingtonpost.com]

By John Gillis

Image used under the Fair Use doctrine from www.good.is.com

Getting stabbed in the back by a friend is never a good feeling. Obviously, there would be an immediate sense of betrayal and the mistrust lingering for ages.

This feeling is one Julius Caesar knows all too well.

On this day in history, Julius Caesar was stabbed when he was at the foot of the statue of Pompey where the Roman Senate was meeting.

Already famous in Rome for his nine year siege in Gaul, he marched into his country as a hero and took control of the country from his former ally, Pompey. He was later elected as consul in 49 BCE. He was again elected in 46 BCE and was appointed dictator for ten years. Caesar then served as a consul in 46 BC and 45 BC, the last of his terms he served without a colleague. 

During his reign as dictator, Caesar created a new constitution in order to suppress all armed resistance in the Roman provinces, create a strong, central government and combine the empire into one cohesive unit.

In order to achieve these goals, he strengthened his control over the government by increasing his authority and decreasing the powers of other government institutions. He reformed several important issues that had been neglected for a long time, like the calendar.

However, all good things must come to an end.

Fearful of Caesar appointing himself dictator for life, a group of 60 conspirators led by Marcus Brutus, Gaius Longinus, Decimus Albinus, and Gaius Trebonius formulated a plan to kill Caesar.

On March 44 BCE, Caesar attended his last Senate meeting without a bodyguard, despite being forewarnedby his wife earlier that danger was afoot. The perpetrators had daggers hidden in their togas and stabbed Caesar 23 times while he stood at the foot of Pompey’s statue.

Legend has it that Caesar’s last words to Brutus were “Et tu, Brute?” meaning “And you, Brutus?”  His final words have been immortalized thanks to Shakespeare’s play Julius Caesar and the quote is widely used to signify the most horrific betrayal.

On March 15, the deadline for students participating in the Mr. and Mrs. Rock Bridge pageant passed, the Young Socialist club met in room 215 and Ron Paul visited the University of Missouri campus. But 2,056 years ago and 5191 miles away, the most famous of betrayals was committed.

By Jessica Jost

NASA made engineers heroes and household names. Their budget was then cut and people stopped caring.

We have enough money in the budget. Watch the following video, for it shall explain a lot.

NASA 2012 is my dream. Today and every day until their budget is changed my goal is for you to spread a simple statement:

“NASA is the reason for our phone, our fridge, and much more.

They provided our parents’ future; now, they are a bore.

Please, go ahead help NASA out;

Provided them funds without a doubt.

Call your congressmen night and day;

NASA needs your help in every way.”

By John Gillis

Art by Joanne Lee

Reports of more deadly tornadoes sweeping the  surrounding Columbia areas have constantly been on my mind. First Joplin, practically a remembered home for me, and now Branson, Mo., a place my family and I have treated as a vacation spot ever since I was a baby, are experiencing devastation.

When my parents would tell me we were going on a trip over spring break or summer, I would think of somewhere tropical and hope to experience something we never had before. But no, we would pile in the car and drive a couple hours to Branson, going to Silver Dollar City, watching magic shows and staying at “The Splash Country Inn with an indoor water park!” but tiny rooms.

Now, however, two places that defined my childhood have been knocked off their feet, requiring rebuilding.

As the Branson tornado swept through the middle of the city on Leap Day a little over a week ago, it stirred the memories of the Joplin tornado. Some of you may be asking, “What the heck is going on here? Why are all these Missouri towns getting shredded to smithereens? Are we next on the list to be demolished?”

But these two tornado tragedies only two hours driving distance apart are common around this time of year; it’s just a rarity that both of these tornadoes happened to touch down in urbanized cities. Tornadoes from F1 ratings,categorized as weak, to F3 ratings, categorized as severe, touch down a lot in this area, but the only damage ever seen is missing cattle and the random barn taken out in the middle of the farmed plains. It is puzzling that in a year’s time, two fairly powerful tornadoes touched down in the heart of bustling, highly populated cities.

This isn’t the end of the tragedies either. Since 1991, Missouri has averaged 45 tornadoes a year and 2.2 EF3 (severe) to EF5 (incredible) tornadoes a year and has been ranked 13th in frequency of tornadoes in the entire United States.

The difference between the Branson and Joplin tornado is substantial, though. I’m not saying the minor bruises Branson experienced were anything close to the gaping wounds Joplin residents had to stitch up. Joplin’s path of destruction was miles wide, taking everything in its path, while the Branson twister embodied the typical behavior of a tornado, jumping from place to place, blowing out windows in one building and leaving another untouched. I’ve seen instances where this has occurred when structures were only 10 yards apart.

Looking at pictures of the recent devastation in Branson, it may look kind of scary. But in reality, things that can bend or break easily will bend and break easily in fairly high winds. Things like street signs, trees, glass and awnings were disturbed since street signs blow over and sheet metal flies like paper in the rotating winds.

Welcome to tornado alley folks. Down in these parts, a tornado is regarded as a nuisance to most people. Sometimes I used to even look forward to them, living in Neosho. They are just so common to these residents that no one took them seriously, until now.

These reported tornadoes have almost been a blessing to every person who watched the reports all over the country. Sometimes, Americans need a little scare to catch their attention. But, Joplin had to learn things the hard way; they were the hypothetical “guinea pigs.”

There were 161 deaths in the Joplin tornado and none in the Branson tragedy because people were prepared. When the storm sirens sound, people don’t blow them off like they used to anymore, so I guess you could say people who experienced the tornado on May 22 suffered through it so that others don’t have to.

As for my beloved vacation spot, as a predominantly tourist and show-based town, only a few of the entertainment theatres were affected and a small amount of hotels damaged, but the town is still encouraging regular tourists. Even though this event may have scared a few people, this tourist town of 10,000 should be back on its feet in no time.

Who knows, maybe my spring break will include a trip down the road to see the recovery, embrace what is there and make more memories for the future.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

As with many tech events, rumors go wild in guessing and in hopes of the next device being completely perfect. This is especially true with Apple events. Apple tends to release an updated version of every product every year at about the same time. March is the month of the iPad as Apple has just announced “The new iPad” this last Wednesday.

It is time to separate the rumors of the past from the facts of the future.

The celebration on apple.com after the 25 billion app download.

This year’s presentation of the iPad started with a key stress on how important Post-PC devices, such as the iPhone and iPad,  have become. They spoke of how the Appstore has had 25 billion downloads total in its rather short lifetime.

That’s right; 25 billion downloads of apps from Angry Birds to Where’s My Water? and with genres from work to play. These apps and devices have become part of our everyday lives and many others.

In fact, they have sold almost 90 million iPads and iPhones in just the last quarter. This really goes to show why Apple’s stock has made the most valuable company in the world at over $500 billion in estimated worth. Apple’s numbers are growing; that’s very evident, but what is actually true about their new iPad.

First off, let’s get the name straight since there has been many rumor names swirling around. Unlike most national reports have claimed, it is not called “iPad HD” or “iPad 3.” It hasn’t officially been called anything other than iPad. Apple was very vague at their presentation of a new name. This was a move toward a simpler future of naming for them.

They are looking to no longer attaching number (and occasionally letters) to their devices names. Instead, they are just going to call them what the device actually is, and in this case, it is simply “iPad.” Since they release about once every year with every product, this is very sensible as then they can refer to previous years’ devices by the year they were released very similar to the way different years of cars are named. Basically, it boils down to a much simpler and cleaner naming structure, which is what Apple is all about.

The new iPad

Even though “iPad HD” didn’t hold true for its name, it did hold some truth in its new display. The iPad has finally been outfitted with Apple’s Retina Display technology. The iPad’s display now has a resolution of  2048pixels by 1536pixels still packed into its 9.7 inch screen. That’s more than any high definition TV packed do in the iPad. This will make avid readers rejoice since at 14 inches away the human eye won’t be able to tell the difference between text on an iPad and text on a printed page. Gamers will also be thrilled at the crisp crystal-clear views that this kind of display will provide.

This iPad includes the new A5X chip that has a dual-core processor and a quad-core graphics processor which was announced to have ran the fastest on benchmark tests compared to all the leading tablets currently available. It will make good use of the new high resolution display with games.

The iPad 2 camera’s photos were so great on it’s lower resolution screen, and they would have look even worse on the Retina Display. Apple stepped it up notch by adding a 5 Megapixel camera and allowing it to shoot 1080p. This will make great pictures on the go.

There are many little nice features. The battery life is still 10 hours even with the improved display and graphics. It will include dictation anywhere there is a keyboard similar to the way the iPhone 4S does it; however, the iPad won’t include all of Siri as it will not speak back to you. It will utilize iCloud and iOS 5.1 including the ability to stream it’s screen to an Apple TV. It can also has 4G LTE built in, but if you live in Columbia, it doesn’t make a difference since 4G isn’t available here.

Now, it’s time to here what it actually costs. The new iPad as per usual has not increased in cost, but the iPad 2 has decreased in cost by $100. Take a look below for full details.

iPad price points as seen at apple.com/ipad/compare/

This week Apple has taken another step towards the future. Only time will success of Apple’s progress with their iPads. They have made many improvements and a quality product. I will be eagerly awaiting it’s release on March 16.

[Sources: Apple.com]

By John Gillis

Daydreams are one of the mediums that allow me to express one of my guiltiest pleasures: creating scenarios in my head.

Imagining such things may not be the healthiest thing, but it keeps me busy. It keeps me interested.

This issue started when I was young. I remember during the weekends I would get bored, I drew pictures of my dream room in case my house burned down by a tragic fire and and extreme makeover home edition team came to renovate our home.

Then Ty would make my room his special project that week. He would ask what it was I was interested in. And I would reply,  “I’ve always wanted to be an interior decorator. You wont believe it, but the only thing to survive the fire is this file containing drawings and designs of my dream room.”

OK, so it sounds a little ridiculous. But I was young — my scenarios have at least gotten more realistic now.

On Saturdays when I don’t have any plans, I will somehow conjure up an amazing essay on a controversial topic like cloning. I imagine saying to my teacher and her responding, “Oh Jude, this is wonderful! I think you should turn this in, and you deserve 100 points extra credit for it.”

As crazy as it sounds, I love doing it. Some might call it an unhealthy obsession, but it makes me cheerful, and just for a while, I can dive into my fantasy world of perfect scenarios that always end up in happiness or riches.

And it’s this guilty pleasure that lets me escape reality every once in a while and still be content with the way things turn out.

By Jude El Buri

Image used under the fair use doctrine

I learned a lot of things in my AP US History class junior year. Most importantly I finally learned what the Missouri Compromise is.

Some of my classmates were amazed I didn’t know what it was until last year, but I had never attended elementary school in Missouri. I went to school in Virginia then, and I learned all about Virginia’s role in the civil war, Jamestown and how we adopted our flag. Seriously, I got tested over that one.

Today in history, the President James Monroe ratified the Missouri Compromise.

When Jefferson made the Louisiana Purchase, he probably never imagined the headaches the new territory would cause the new nation. Settlers went west almost immediately after the purchase, and many brought slaves with them. Once the territories met the requirements for statehood and applied, Congress faced the challenge of maintaining the balance between slave states and free states. This is where the Missouri Compromise comes into play.

When Missouri originally applied to become a state, more than 2,000 slaves lived in the territory. Many Americans assumed it would become a slave state, but New York Representative James Tallmadge had another idea. He proposed banning the importation of slaves and abolishing slavery altogether within Missouri. If that didn’t ruffle the South’s feathers, they were certainly ruffled when Tallmadge’s amendment made it through the House February 1819.

A compromise was reached January 1820, when Maine’s statehood passed through the House. Alabama had been given state status in 1819, and that kept the balance of slave and free states. Maine and Missouri could become states if each was a free and slave state respectively. Henry Clay orchestrated the compromise, which allowed the admittance of the two states as long as slavery wasn’t permitted anyway north of the 36°30’N lat.

 Interestingly enough, the Missouri Compromise was repealed with the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act in 1854 and also declared unconstitutional in the Dred Scott Decision of 1857. Despite being repealed within 50 years of its passage, the Missouri Compromise is credited with holding the fragile Union together until the Civil War.

On March 6 Super Tuesday took place, Mass Effect 3 hit stores and the Bridge held Open Mic night. But 192 years ago and 828 miles away, the North and South compromised for the sake of the country.

By Jessica Jost

Why Homebrew?

We all know every family has skeletons, personalities sometimes don’t mix well and even the perfect ones really aren’t so perfect after all.

My family is a freaking mess, but honestly, I couldn’t be more proud of it. It took me a while to love even their worst qualities, but sure enough, I do now. We have all been broken and shakily put back together. One thing is certain about my now small Italian family — we are passionate about everything, and without a doubt, we are most passionate about our  family.

I’ve never been too shy to coware away from the family surprises; however, this time I didn’t expect to uncover what I found.

A picture is worth a thousand words and telling a story with one is no tough task, right? Maybe conveying that story in photograph isn’t ridiculously difficult, but compiling text, several photos and other materials all into one image certainly is — at least for me. So when art and photography teacher Chris Flinchpaw announced our latest assignment, I was slightly worried. We were to use photoshop to weave photos and text to make a narrative. 

Yet, I surrendered and pulled out boxes among boxes of old pictures and old albums, trucked them over to my monthly newspaper late nights and dug in.

The first box I opened was photos thrown in every way possible, automatically making the situation more endearing. The photos weren’t organized, and they weren’t meant to be looked through any certain way; they were mine for the exploring.

I immediately pulled out a photo of my parents when they first got their apartment. The corners were edged, and the color was orange-yellow looking. They were both sitting on the floor surrounded by other options of furniture, staring at each other, young, in love and just married. Even when I was younger, I never thought of my parents as soul mates, and if you didn’t know them, after looking at this particular photo you would never consider that they were anything but soul mates to one another. Before the ways of the world got in the middle, they were truly in love, and even if I never saw that story with my own eyes, I will forever have this photo to know that it was once true. And for me that’s just enough.

After the moment passed, I leaned over to the next stack of photos and for another fifteen or so minutes I would laugh awkwardly, look over to my dearest friend junior Maria Kalaitzandonakes and say, “Oh my god, look at this face!” She had no clue who the face belonged to, where or when the photo was taken. But, like the great friend she is, she laughed, yelled the same thing right back to me, and when the moment was gone, she went back to work but would then continue to do it all again. 

My set time frame of being sappy and emotional was about up. It was time to get back to pushing pages for newspaper, running through edits and wanting to pull my hair out because of the unavoidable stress of late nights. Yet, I was still feeling my emotional high from all of the memories that I had forgotten to remember and the stories I recreated.

There were pictures of me in my brother’s high school hockey team gear, my princess costumes and smiling from ear to ear on birthdays. The common denominator between me and my huge smile was the fact that my brother was right next to me in each of them. He never left my side then, still hasn’t and I have a funny feeling that he won’t later on either.

Everyone can go through a tough time with their families. But one of the greatest feelings is revisiting the best of times, smiling at them and crying at the same time. I promise, if you go back and look at the best memories you have, they will remind you that you have many more fantastic memories to come.

Don’t go another day without digging up old family photos.

By Sonya Francis

And in case you didn’t know, I am, indeed, a girl.

One of my guiltiest pleasures is filling up shopping carts on online stores with really cute and often expensive things. I will do this, then close the browser window before I check anything out. Multiple times.

I wasn’t always a virtual shopaholic.

It all started one day when I sat in front of the laptop, browsing through the endless shirts, jeans, skirts, and cardigans. I slowly popped open more and more tabs. Next came Nine West, then Urban Outfitters. I became obsessed with the clothes, the shoes, the accessories.

I wanted them. I needed them. I remembered a top on Express, a pair of jeans on H&M and a necklace on Kay‘s site. The design  for the top was eccentric, the jeans were perfect and the necklace, even better. Yes, it didn’t matter the saying on the shirt had nothing to do with my beliefs or what I normally would like. Who cares if I already had a pair of jeans just like the one on the screen? And my, my, the necklace was waaaay too cheap considering the cost of hospitalization that was bound to come with it – I’d break my neck after wearing it for five seconds.

Yet, I needed it. It called out to me like a siren in the ocean.

My daily shopping trips continued until I found my own form of shopping catharsis. I headed to Forever21 online and shopped my little heart out. I filled the cart with all the spring essentials and the season’s must-haves. I customized several diamond rings and necklaces at Kay Jewelers. I filled up around five or six shopping carts at different online stores with clothes, purses and about thirty pairs of shoes.

When I was finally satisfied, I hovered over the Proceed to Checkout button, but then headed to the top right hand corner and closed the entire browser.

I realized how easily I let materialism consume me and my life. But whenever I feel like going on a shopping spree, I head to the online stores, fill up the shopping carts with everything my heart desires and then close out. I didn’t have to become consumed with materialism. I want to live by my life’s philosophies.

But for now, on my way to self-actualization, I can temporarily satiate my shopping urges by committing one of my guiltiest pleasures — pretend online shopping.

By Jude El Buri

And while my basement was a satisfactory imagination station, I loved it when my family would pack up the Ford Explorer and head to Rock Quarry or Bethel Park.

It was at the park that I could let my legs and my mind run free, pretending the wood chips in my shoes were stolen files from a top-secret criminal headquarters. The trees became fairy schoolhouses, every branch a different classroom. The slides were tunnels that took me from Saturn to Venus in an instant. The smooth pebbles served as my currency, a method of payment when I purchased mud pies and stick spoons from the other children.

As the years passed, I changed, and so did the parks, in the odd, subtle way that inanimate objects do. I aged and stopped asking why so many cigarettes littered the gravel. I played fewer games of hide-and-seek, having long figured out all the good spots available. I held hands with a boy for the first time, hiding among the tires of Rock Quarry Park, glad the shadows concealed my blushing cheeks.

Eventually, the wood chips in my shoes became nuisance rather than pleasure. I saw the trees as lovely figures, but they ceased to contain fairy schoolhouses. The slides were too small for my body, and I could no longer fly. The park was there and it was home, but a home for an older Barbie, one who had responsibilities and less imagination.

But one sunny May afternoon, I took a friend’s son to Bethel Park. He was four years old and as mischievous as little boys can be.

He dragged me behind him from the swing to the see-saw, and I slowly rediscovered the roots of my imagination.

He took me to the slide. Chewing on his lower lip, he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do. He was beginning to outgrow the slide; it was getting too “boring.”

An old trick sparked in my mind, an old trick of Bethel’s creation, and I smiled.

“Well,” I told him, “How about we stop sliding?”

He looked at me with genuine interest, the kind you rarely see in adults. What could I be talking about? What idea did I have in mind? He waited, as I glanced up to the top of the slide and back at him.

My smile turned to a grin.

“How about we take a trip to Venus?”

And Bethel took us there.

By Lauren Puckett

Image used under the Fair Use doctrine from www.libcom.com

Our main political parties in the United States, the Republicans and the Democrats, seem to have existed forever; it is hard to picture them in their infancy. But, even though one major party across the pond has only been around for just over 100 years, it has managed to accomplish so much in its short life.

On this day in history, the British Labour Party was created.

Appropriately born at the turn of the century in 1900, the Labour party stood for the interests of the common Englishman. A gathering of over 70 groups – including the Social Democratic Foundation, the Fabians and the Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants – voted in favor of representing the working class voice in the House of Commons. They titled themselves as the Labour Representation Committee and elected two MP’s (members of Parliament) to Commons in the 1900 elections.

Although the Labour party’s first Prime Minister, Ramsay Macdonald, was in charge of England for only a few months in 1924, his government accomplished a great deal during their limited term. Despite not being the majority party in Commons, Macdonald was able to pass legislation on education, social insurance, unemployment and housing. The government was ousted after the publication of the Zinoviev lette, a fake document alleging that the Labour party was tied to the Russian communists. The Labour party lost 40 seats in the next election and the Conservatives came back to power, but Labour wasn’t down for long.

The next Labour government was in 1929 and it saw Margaret Bondfield become the first woman ever to be a cabinet minister in Britin’s entire political history and it was the first time that Labour was the largest party in Britain.

The Labour party has only been in power in Britain for four periods of time compared to the Conservatives’ near monopoly on the government but it has made waves in its short existence. From being the first party ever to include a woman in its cabinet to devolving power to governments in Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Having accomplished so much in 112 years, the Labour party shows that age is no obstacle when i t comes to  governing and providing for the people.

On February 27, 2012, Rock Bridge High School boys lacrosse and Columbia Womens Lacrosse began their official practices, Henna and International arts day kicked off the week long Global Village celebration, and Baseball tryouts began. But 112 years ago and 4333 miles away, the party of the people was created.

"Miracle of Human Spirit" in the newly built Cunningham Park. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of the outdoors. I grew up in hillbilly-ville; what can I say?

Our home sat on acres of farmland, and we had a ’70s box television, which flipped through a whopping four channels, with a wooden frame, complete with a dial on the right side. So on those clear, summer afternoons when boredom threatened to dampen my mood, my haven was Cunningham Park on 26^th and South Maiden Lane in Joplin, Mo.

So many stories and pictures from my childhood depict this special spot – of the family picnics and camping out under the tall oak trees, of me climbing on the jungle gym, encouraging my imagination to take flight. When my cousins visited during the summer months, we would slip into our swimsuits and floaties and slather on the sunscreen for a day at the Cunningham pool, where a cool dip could relieve the scorching heat in mid-July.

The houses were aged and the trees were tall, something that is hard to believe now. I never thought we would ever get too old for this place. We’d even visited the pool several times the summer before last; it was preparing to open again before the May 22^nd disaster.

But apparently, my haven meant just enough or even more to this town that it did to me. Even though I will always stow my joyful experiences of our adventures in a photo album or my recollection, Joplin has made Cunningham Park a symbol for its recouping and rebuilding.

This park was at the heart of the damage. The only thing left standing in the distance was St. John’s Hospital and all the residents of demolished houses surrounding Cunningham gathered there after the storm cleared, astonished by their tragedy.

I have been amazed by the spirit of those from around the country sending in donations, especially those who trekked the distance from near or far to the stricken town of Joplin to get hands on with the people affected and the mess that was left by this catastrophe. For instance, Drury architecture students developed a memorial in the center of Cunningham Park.

Called “the miracle of the human spirit,” the structure is made up of four stone ring-shaped walls, curved around each other, representing rescue, recovery, demolition and rebirth,  along with three mosaic pieces made out of random objects found in the dirt after the tornado, such as a doorknob, pieces of broken plates and silverware.  A silver plaque stands at the head of the memorial thanking all the volunteers for the help they provided.

“‘The Miracle of the Human Spirit’ symbolizes the incredible outpouring of volunteers who have lifted Joplin out of the rubble,” the plaque states. “Countless volunteers from all walks of life have offered themselves to the Joplin effort without request, serving as a reminder of the overwhelming power of human generosity and the steadfast tenacity to rebuild the once broken city.”

This structure will be printed in the memories of those that see it and run their fingers over the mosaics of others lost items, trying to imagine the loss that once was felt here. And while I reminisce in my childhood endeavors, this memory will stay forever, where new trees will grow and where 20 years from now another child will want to play.

But those who lived through it will keep close in their hearts the importance of Cunningham park and what it represents to a community, the power to overcome and the helping hand of others through the miracle of the human spirit.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.thejohnsongalleries.com

The saying “live each day like it’s your last” rang true on Feb. 23, 1836. A group of 100 Texans garrisoned themselves in a Roman Catholic mission as a last ditch effort to hold off the incoming Mexican Army.

There was no guarantee of reinforcements, no promise of supplies, and no evacuation plan for the Texans.

On this day in history, the Battle of the Alamo began.

The battle was preceded by the capture of the Alamo by Texan settlers in December 1835. General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, the leader of Mexico at the time, decided to make an example out of the rebels and marched his army towards the Alamo.

This is how it always starts. Something too awesome, too funny, too awkward happened the other day. From the cusp of that moment, the ultimate story is waiting to be told. This story is beyond grand, and the people must hear of this tale! Like The Odyssey, this heart-wrenching story is the essential story of adventure! It will be a staple of culture! It will touch millions! This story must be told!!!

This is where the story-repeater is born.

It all starts when I see my friend that morning at school.

“Oh, my God, the coolest thing happened the other day. … Carl Edwards came into Shakespeare’s and picked up a pizza last night. He drives a gold Ford Escape.”

At first, I’ll admit that it’s pretty cool. “Carl Edwards eats pizza where I eat pizza?!” Too raw. “My mom drives an Escape!” They have matching cars. “What kind of pizza did he get?!” I bet he likes banana peppers.

By second hour the story is bound to be repeated at least once. The second time I hear it, I’m not likely to recognize the repetition. In all reality, if I saw Carl Edwards at Shakespeare’s I’d probably tell at least two people.

If the storyteller tells the story twice, he or she is not a first-degree storytellers. He isn’t even a second-degree storyteller. These story repeaters are committing accidental storyslaughter. A good story can be repeated once, but if I hear a story three times in one day, I’m going to notice. After the third time, I don’t hate the story, I hate its contents.

If the story is repeated thrice in one day, my ears are ringing. I can almost recite the entirety of the story, and my reactions oppose those of the original telling.

“Carl Edwards isn’t even that cool. He doesn’t win overall points anyway. He’s barely cute.”

This is accidental storyslaughter. I’m sure they’re excited about seeing Carl Edwards. Maybe they’re big NASCAR fans. But they have to realize there’s a point where I don’t want to listen to their stupid pizza story anymore.

The fourth time is anything but accidental. Now it’s bragging. Now it’s, “I saw Carl Edwards; tell me how cool it is.”

It’s simply painful. Not only can I recite the story, but I can jump in during breaths of the storyteller and finish the sentences. It also gives me full right to end with, “You’ve told that story four times today.”

Not only does it discredit the tale, but it also shows the listeners just how obsessed the teller is with the story they are repeating.

The worst thing about the story-repeater is that the last repetition will occur weeks, maybe months after the original incident. The storyteller and I will go over to someone’s house, and the person’s dad will be watching ESPN upstairs with his adolescent son. SportsCenter will flash to an update of a race, and Carl Edwards will be in first place.

Cue story.

I can guarantee there’s no story that needs to be told four times in one day. Stop repeating stories.

Today, I hate the story-repeater.

By Shannon Freese

Image used under the Fair Use doctrine from www.Forbes.com

In the late 19th Century in America, women were a long way off from gaining the right to vote, serving in Congress and being paid the same amount of money per hour as men.

But in 1879, women everywhere in America were granted the highest honor a lawyer can receive— the right to argue a case in front of the US Supreme Court.

On this day in history, President Rutherford B. Hayes signed a the Act to Relieve Certain Legal Disabilities of Women.

The bill was originated by Belva Ann Bennett Lockwood who would later go on to become the first woman to argue in front of the Supreme Court after the passage of the bill. She attended the National University Law School (Now George Washington University Law School). However, the school would not grant her a diploma upon graduation because she was a woman. Undeterred, Lockwood wrote to then President Ulysses S. Grant, and she received her diploma within a week.

She drafted an anti-discrimination bill that would grant women the right to argue before the Supreme Court and lobbied Congress for the passage of her bill. In 1877, Representative John M. Glover introduced the bill before the House providing  “any woman who shall have been a member of the bar of the highest court of any State or Territory or of the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia for the space of three years, and shall have maintained a good standing before such court, and who shall be a person of good moral character, shall, on motion and the production of such record, be admitted to practice before the Supreme Court of the United States.”

The bill passed through the House of Representatives in February 1878 with a 169 to 87 vote. The passage of the bill in the Senate took a petition signed by 160 male lawyers, a legal brief written by Lockwood and a year long battle behind the scenes to convince the Senators to vote in favor of the bill. The bill passed in the Senate and on February 15th, 1879, Hayes signed it into law.

On Feb. 15, The Blue Note hosted O. A. R., the Mizzou men’s basketball team faced off against Oklahoma State, and the Boston Bruins traveled to Canada to play the Montreal Canadians, but 133 years ago and 951 miles away, women took another step toward equality.

I have had people tell me I look like the type of person that who would listen to country or soft rock. But I’m more of a rap type person.

I don’t mean rappers like T-Pain or Soulja boy or even Wiz Khalifa; I’m talking Busta Rhymes, Tupac and Outlandish.

I had phases of writing my own def jam poetry and rehearsing them over and over in my head, as if I was getting ready to perform them. Soon, those poems became raps. It was like poetry but with a faster beat.

I think real rap has so much meaning to it. The artists put so much meaning and symbolism into one verse. Their songs make you think. Outlandish’s song “Life is a Loom” never ceases to move me. It’s a nice change from a lot of the other meaningless, and often demeaning, songs out there.

Life is a loom
The threads are the days
God decides when to cut them
Even though the work ain’t done

(Life is a Loom)

During the much needed snow day on Monday, Feb. 13, I did absolutely nothing. I was lazy. I watched two different Johnny Depp movies – “Edward Scissorhands” and “Benny and Joon.” As always, both were spectacular stories, and Depp’s acting was nothing short of impressive. I was happy to spend a little over three hours in his company.

I then spent my fantastically uneventful day doodling and reading a few chapters of the new book “Quiet” by Susan Cain, another person I don’t mind spending time with. Cain’s book on introverts vs. extroverts shed new light for me on how the ‘other’ kind of mind works.

I even spent a good amount of time gazing out the window to watch the snow accumulate. It was supposed to be beautiful and calming. But I didn’t see that. I saw each little flake as another one my little behind would soon have to shovel off the driveway. Each white-angel beauty kept taunting me with each flutter of the wind.

By early evening, still ignoring the snow, I started to get hungry. I rolled off the bed and left my cave to make my way to the kitchen, where tacos were on the menu that night for dinner. During the song and dance that I generally put on while cooking, I heard a small scratching sound outside the front door.

I peeked out and, sure enough, my wonderful next door neighbor and his son were shoveling my drive. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked that they would do this for me and my mom.

My neighborhood doesn’t have block parties, and the housewives don’t run across the street every time the latest drama occurs. It’s quiet around here. The only time I had ever met any of them was moving day over a year and a half ago when my mom and I made our entrance into Columbia, Mo. And of course the neighbors had slowly trekked across the streets to welcome us, trying to figure out if any of our nonsense was going to disturb their peace. They all seemed like lovely people – normal, with their own lives to lead.

Now, staring at the people I hadn’t paid much attention to in the past 18 months, I hurried to my room to throw on a hoodie, a beanie and my favorite no fingered gloves with one realization: I couldn’t continue being the lazy bum I had been all day.

So I stepped out, exclaiming my great appreciation to my neighbors for their generous act of kindness. The three of us finished up the drive; when we finished shoveling I was still dumbfounded that someone would extend such big-heartedness in complete silence. Just how impressed I was that there are still people out there with a good heart was sad, but either way I was feeling the love, a day before Valentine’s day.

My overeager and somewhat awkward thanks just was simply not enough. Next on the lazy day to-do list was to make cookies, and by golly they would be cut into hearts, and they would most certainly have sprinkles on them.

Let it be known I am no baker. All things turn out crunchy or missing a vital ingredient. However, with karma on my side, my pink decorated, heart-shaped sugar cookies turned out fantastic. I don’t mean to brag or anything, but it was a big mountain to climb for such an inexperienced pastry chef as myself. Who would have thought that actually using the timer was such a big help? I Saran-wrapped the cookies and ran them over to the neighbors’.

Surprised to find me on their stoop bearing gifts, they opened the door and welcomed me into the warmth of their home with great smiles upon their beautiful faces.

I’ve always been told to give a helping hand, to volunteer and to share an even bigger smile with someone when they needed it. But never before have I quite appreciated those lessons quite as much as I do now. Their small act completely warmed my heart and honestly made my day. But most of all, it opened my eyes to how much more I could do for others if I tried.

Next time, I want to be the person that is warming someone else’s heart and making their day and so should you. Don’t go another day without helping out your neighbor.

By Sonya Francis

FEMA-ville in broad daylight still manages to hide the pain and worries of Joplin's population. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh

When people insure their homes, they don’t usually expect the worst situations when deciding what to cover and what not to cover. Some may expect a little wind or fire damage with a slight possibility of even basement floods.

No one anticipates losing everything. This includes not only the house, but also vehicles, furniture, money, cooking utensils, valuables, keepsakes, beds, blankets, records, birth certificates and personal identification.

Nine months ago while people scrambled out from under the rubble of their former homes, reality hit them: everything was gone. They had no hope of finding anything, either. What little the tornado spared remained buried beneath dirt and debris, saturated in rain for the next several days as the sky continued to weep.

Once the shock subsided, families ventured into churches, shelters and other public buildings where insurance agencies had set up tables. Homeowners visited these tables to receive advancements for their lost belongings until the claims could be settled in full.

The process wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Most of these families were under-insured – or even worse, uninsured. In some situations, these homes were all people had. Never had Mother Nature played into their worries. While waiting their turns, families would sit on cots or run back to their piles of junk, digging through the mud for proof of identification titles and insurance cards.

For those who lost homes, FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, came to build around 350 trailer homes in two different parks as temporary living. Families of all predicaments may live in these trailer homes, called “FEMA-ville,” for up to 18 month. Though not an ideal living situation, FEMA provides furniture and kitchen items in the three bedroom units to help families through the tragedy as they wait on new homes to be built.

In addition to the trials many suffer from losing homes, business owners must also face the loss of their businesses, their livelihood. A few months after the tornado ripped through Joplin, my grandma told me a former business in downtown Joplin had been destroyed. The parking lot and its structure were nonexistent. When the business owner went to receive her reimbursements for the reconstruction of her business, she found the insurance policy didn’t cover her parking lot or her business sign. Both ended up costing her tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket to pay.

While government agencies, non-profit organizations and donations helped jump start the rebuilding process in Joplin, there are still those who are struggling. Whether it’s an uninsured home, parking lot or store sign, what once seemed to be “just there” will be ten times more precious now.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

There’s a drive-in by Hickman High School that has the best root beer in all of Missouri. It has unbelievable chili and cheese, and the servers put it on anything and everything: hot dogs, hamburgers and french fries.

If you’ve never been to Mugs Up, you’ve never lived. It’s, literally, one of the gems of Columbia, Mo., and it easily ranks up there with Sparky’s on 9th Street, Shakespeare’s on 9th and Elm and Booches on 9th.

Mugs Up, on Orange Street,  is an interesting place. It’s got the classic drive-in look and feel. It’s a tiny shack flanked by awnings on two sides at an obtuse angle. They’re supported by red, round metal poles. It’s like a square metal bird taking flight to flavortown. If you don’t get a spot underneath its wings, you can park anywhere around Mugs Up. There are no lines; therefore, there aren’t parking spots, so anywhere is fair game for cars. Sometimes on a busy day, they’re packed around the tiny shack. It’s like trying to fit the wrestling team in the elevator in the math hallway. Getting out of the lot is like solving a logic puzzle.

Wherever you park, they will find you. The waitresses never write anything down, but they never mess up an order.  There was one time my parents and I went there and ordered enough food for five people. Since the people in my house are the pickiest eaters, I was amazed when all the food and drinks came back, unscathed by any mishap or mix-up that could have easily occurred with the order. It’s downright amazing, and there’s very little that could mess with whatever system the ladies at Mugs Up are working on.

The only thing that stinks about Mugs Up is that it isn’t open during the winter.

It wouldn’t be a shock to find out the tiny shed had no heating system at all, but for whatever reason, Mugs Up isn’t open for operation. If there’s ever a time for a chili cheese dog craving, it’s during the winter months when snow coats the ground and freezes the water that drips off the house into icicles.

Summer is swimsuit season, and although it’s never hard to gobble down a zip burger, thinking about the love handles it’ll give you makes it slightly more difficult when you’re half-naked all season.

It’s probably unsafe to send workers out to the snow and ice, catering back and forth from the serving window to the cars, but sometimes I just need a cheese zip. And I’ll be danged if I can’t get one in December.

Today, I hate that Mugs Up isn’t open in the wintertime.

By Shannon Freese

Photo by Muhammad Al-Rawi

If Columbia is my kingdom, Memorial Union is my castle.

Before it achieved its royal status, though, it was my bus stop; A place of waiting – morning after morning, week after week. Quiet chatter coming from the other rain-coat clad children, surrounded me. And a soft light crept rhythmically over the rainy rooftops.

In this half asleep stupor, my dreams seemed to fill the gaps that my ever closing eyes created. The school bus became my pumpkin coach. The spastic children transformed into scurrying mice.

In these wee hours of the morning, I put my bossy-girl mind to good use- controlling my rolling concrete lands. The tall gray building stretched its spires into the Columbia skyline, making flare like patterns with the sidewalk’s shadows.

In my right hand a majestic, graphite ended septor, pointed to lay down my laws. My Mary Janes were glass slippers, fitted only for me. Each time I walked they made a soft clicking noise. After a few click, click, click, clicks up the grimy bus steps my eyes would cloud over, and my morning hours would wane, striking imagination’s midnight. The fairytale would be done for the day.

Even when I sat placidly at my window seat my eyes never left the back window. All day I thought of Memorial Union’s round face clock, its hands circling endlessly, counting down my hours left in class. School was just my day job, every morning, I ruled a nation.

Memorial Union, too, has a day job. It serves as an oh-so-functional student union. But it has a mysterious side, a little known side. For in the cold morning rains, standing alongside drowsy children, it becomes a castle. The story unfolds before my sleep filled eyes, and another Columbia lore becomes fixed in my memory.

by: Maria Kalaitzandonakes

Hermitage image used with permission under fair use doctrine from www.gohagantravel.com

I’ve always felt that whatever America does, Europe does so much better when it comes to museums. The Smithsonian museums fail in comparison to the Louvre, the Vatican museums and the Nationalmuseet.

But one museum, The Hermitage, has won a top spot on my list of places to visit before I die.

On this day in history, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia, opened to the public.

The Hermitage was founded in 1764 when Catherine the Great bought a collection of Dutch and Flemish paintings from a Berlin merchant. She commissioned Yury Velten to build an extensions onto the east side of the Winter Palace which later became the Southern Pavilion of the Small Hermitage. The Northern Pavilion was built on the Neva river embankment. These two pavilions were connected and Catherine housed her personal art collections in them.

Two tsars and four architects later, the Hermitage was opened to the public in 1852. At the time, it was home to all of the paintings by Titian save for one among Greek and Egyptian artifacts and other paintings bought by the Tsars since the Hermitage’s inception.

The Hermitage is a cultural icon for the Russians. It was preserved during the Russian Revolution and the collections were saved from being pillaged and destroyed. The museum was nationalized and a museum fund was created to run the Hermitage. When Hitler invaded Russia in 1941, museum workers and civilians alike raced to ship the contents of the Hermitage out of Leningrad. Even during the siege of Leningrad, the museum was cared for by artists taking shelter within; they would clear rubble and remove charred flooring after each bombing. In 1945, the museum re-opened and grew larger than it had been before the siege.

Today, the Hermitage has 2,970,214 items that include but are not limited to paintings, sculptures, archaeological objects and other exhibit items. The museum is spread out across 10 buildings and seven of those are dedicated to 18th and 19th century Russian culture. The Hermitage has three exhibitions in Kazan, Amsterdam and Vyborg. Each year, 2.5 million people visit the museum and the number alone is a testament to the prestige of the Hermitage.

On Feb. 5, the Giants and Patriots met on the turf in Indianapolis, the Blue Note hosted the BXR Blues Bowl XII and a gun show was hosted at Cape Girardeau. But 160 years ago and 4887 miles ago, the public was invited to view thousands of years of history.

By Jessica Jost

I am not a visual person. I cannot draw, paint or create any sort of masterpiece in an artistic way. It’s not my gift no matter how hard I try or how many different attempts I make. However, contrary to all of the above, I have dabbled slightly in photography during the past six months. Because of this new hobby, it seems that I am looking at the world through a completely different lens.

Throughout the day people look at millions of details without realizing the story behind them. When those details become a photo they become more apparent, more obvious. Capturing a 1/60^th of a moment is a spectacular, almost therapeutic thing. Spending hours on end chasing a sunset on one of the two beautiful days in January is calming. Problems in life dissolve, and the photo that arises right in front of your very eyes is much more important and much more captivating.

Everything is fast-paced. There is never a day without a list of things to do that need to be crossed off, or somewhere a person has to be. However, even the most chaotic moments in life can appear soft, but that’s only when you take the time to see them that way.

The naked eye can’t possible capture every moment but with the help of a camera; the unseen can be brighter than ever. This photo shows just how much a camera can catch. If someone were to try and watch the gun go off, they wouldn’t have been able to take in every color and every spark. It would be gone in the blink of an eye if it weren’t for the help of my friend, Nikon D5100.

Looking at a body of water is clearly beautiful, it’s not unappreciated and most would agree taking it in is relaxing. But looking up close makes the life of the water seem more alive than I ever thought it would be.

My grandma has been in my life for as long as I can remember. On average I see her five out of six days a week. But I had never noticed the beauty of her hands until the second I took the picture. I had been oblivious to each wrinkle and each mark. It was just part of my everyday world, until now.

Don’t go another day without picking up a camera because even if your purpose isn’t to capture the most fantastic and impressive piece of art, it can be to capture the moments that you used to take for granted.

By Sonya Francis

This week has been “Kansas Hate Week,” a tradition upheld by only the best and brightest of Columbians and Mizzou fans. It’s the week prior to a big border showdown game, and seeing as this Saturday is the Kansas-Mizzou basketball game, this week is that week.

So it goes without saying that this blog is dedicated to Kansas Hate Week by highlighting some of the things I hate most about Kansas.

First and foremost, what the heck is a jayhawk? Why would they make an imaginary bird the mascot of their school? It’s a big, feathery bird which, in my opinion, is very vulnerable to attacks by any other animal. If I were to enter the jayhawk in an animal-on-animal fight club, I’d  have about two options. I could put it in a “kitten vs. kitten” category or a “worm vs. worm” category. Even in that, kittens have claws and the “worm vs. worm” category is a joke.

The jayhawk is beyond pathetic as a mascot. The only reason the university had to pick an imaginary creature as their mascot is because all the animals in the state either got bored and left or got hit by cars speeding down I-70 as fast as they can so they can get across the border as soon as they can. Because of the lack of animals that want to live in Kansas, the inhabinants had to legitimately make one up.

If I were going to make up an animal to be a mascot, I would have created a hybrid of a saber tooth tiger, wooly mammoth and eagle—quick, strong and patriotic—not some weak copy of a toucan. So congratulations, Jayhawks, your bird could get first place in the “worm vs. worm” fight club category. In that fight club, the first rule is “Tickets are free, tell your friends please because nobody cares about our fight club.”

At least the kittens are cute.

Driving through Kansas stinks. There’s nothing there. It’s like when God was creating the world, he got restless leg syndrome and Alzheimer’s at the same time. First he got up and left the drawing board because he, literally, couldn’t sit still anymore and then he forgot to fill the rest in because it “slipped his mind.” Its landscape is like the heart beat monitors of the people who live there —flat.

When I go through Kansas, the only thing I like about the drive is knowing Colorado will eventually be on the other side. There was a point in time when I screamed because I saw movement in the distance but almost immediately afterward wanted to break down crying because I realized it was only an oil drill and a windmill.

Even worse, the radio stations in Kansas are an epic fail. Just because the land is flat doesn’t mean the radio waves can get to my vehicle. All I hear is static. And of course, the first time I drovee through Kansas, I forgot my iPod. So, all I got to listen to while I driving through the most stupid, flattest state of them all was the sound of my family dying of boredom.

Lastly, what I hate about Kansas is that for the longest time, they were better than us. Football was always close because for the most part, the teams toggled back and forth from being really good and really bad. But basketball… was the worst. Kansas has a reputation for being a really good basketball team, and watching Mizzou fall to KU on the court was by far one of the most traumatic experiences of my young life.

With MU leaving the Big 12 conference this year and a securing a top five ranking, Kansas is going to get their tail handed to them. After all the years of getting grinded into the hardwood, the Tigers will step up and destroy the Jayhawks Saturday. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t have to hate Kansas because they’re better than Mizzou in basketball.

Yesterday, I hated Kansas.

Tomorrow, I’ll hate Kansas.

Today, I hate Kansas.

By Shannon Freese

Image used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.india-in-your-home.com

Death.

That night Columbia was having some unpleasant weather as well. With the thunder, lightning and rain, I was upset my parents wouldn’t let me take a shower because I could get electrified. Instead, I grumbled into my bedroom and shut the door to work on some homework until the storm passed.

Deeply engrossed in my work, as I always am, I admit I didn’t pay much attention to my mother when she shouted from the living room for me to come quickly. A few seconds later, my sister rushed in through my door and said a tornado had gone through the Joplin area, but I was still unfazed. This wasn’t an uncommon thing to hear.

I thought back to the times I lived in Neosho when we would have frequent tornadoes, often coming from the west plains into Oklahoma and Kansas.

We would run to the basement in the middle of the night about four or five times a year, usually during spring when the cold winter air collided with the fresh, warm air. We would wake up some mornings, and our play set would be in our neighbor’s yard across the street, the power out for over a week and large trees uprooted, now blocking the streets. We woke up once to find a large crack in the ceiling where the walls had become separated because of a tornado’s high winds and another time when our garage door had been transformed as if some huge person had punched it with his giant fist.

So, when I heard of a tornado in Joplin, my first reaction was, “Yeah, OK, so they lost a couple trees, maybe a few houses, what’s the big deal?”

Then my sister said half the city was gone, and we couldn’t contact my grandparents.

The TV flashed images of devastation and chaos that made my family members’ jaws drop. My mom was frantically pressing redial, her hands shaking as she anticipated an answer from my grandpa. When the news showed clips of St. John’s Hospital in ruins with windows blown out and sections destroyed, it was almost too much to handle. This hospital was an extremely important part of this city. And this town couldn’t survive without one of its hospitals.

Finally, we received a response from my grandparents. The power had gone out, and it was still raining hardly, but they had taken shelter in a closet. This was a giant relief, but my family was still in shock from the climbing death toll and reports of those missing. The whole time we were listening for the names of our friends. Reports from cameras showed piles of cars, remainders of buildings and trees strewn in all directions; it all seemed to have no end. It looked like a warzone, and I knew the Joplin I remembered from my past was gone forever.

The truth finally tore through me: this was not the kind of tornado we were used to, not at all.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

The 42nd President of the United States. Used under the Fair use doctrine from www.stylemagazine.com

Everyone has a quote that her life is defined by. My quote is “Never enter into a land war with Eurasia.”

One of our presidents will be defined by a quote he’d probably pay good money to forget: “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”

On this day in history, former President Bill Clinton held a press conference in the White House and denied allegations that he had intimate relations with Monica Lewinsky.

Lewinsky was an intern at the White House during Clinton’s first  term as President. During her tenure, she entered into a relationship with Clinton. She told her friend Linda Tripp all the details regarding her relationship with the President, and Tripp secretly recorded the phone conversations between Lewinsky and Clinton.

When Tripp learned that Lewinsky had signed in affidavit in the Paula Jones case denying ever being in a relationship with Clinton, Tripp delivered the secret tapes to Kenneth Star.

Clinton was already undergoing investigation on other matters, such as the Whitewater scandal among others, and Star was the independent counsel for the case.

After receiving the tapes from Tripp, he widened the investigation to include possible perjury by Lewinsky. The scandal broke on Jan. 17 on the Drudge Report website. After clamor from the public and the press for an explanation, Clinton gave his best know sound bite and defining quote from his presidency: “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”

In the months following the outbreak of the story, Clinton was brought to trial for perjury. During the Paula Jones trial he denied engaging in sexual acts with Lewinsky; the tapes obviously negated his testimony. He was fined for giving false testimony and lost his license to practice law in Arkansas because of his perjury.

But the real storm was only on the horizon for President Clinton.

In December of 1998, impeachment proceedings began for Clinton. The Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich, a current GOP presidential candidate, led the charge. Ironically, Gingrich was also having an affair during the trial. Clinton was officially tried for perjury, obstruction of justice and abuse of power.

He was acquitted of all counts and all guilty votes came from Republican senators, with only five Democratic representatives voting to impeach. Clinton rode out the storm and left office after his second term with no worse an approval rating than when he entered.

But his denial of having sexual relations with Lewinsky would change the idea of sex for young Americans forever.

Clinton’s denial that fellatio was a sexual act caused the Clinton-Lewinsky Effect has changed college students’ previous views of sex. In a study by the University of Kentucky, only 20 percent of the students surveyed considered oral-genital contact to be “sex.” This is roughly half the number of students who replied to similar “sex” studies in 1991 and 1999-2011.

Researchers believe Clinton’s denial has helped shape new definitions of sexual relations for young adults because many of the surveyed students were adolescents after the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal and the hype contributed to the turning point of of ideas of oral-genital contact.

Used under the Fair Use Doctrine from www.answers.com

It’s hard to believe, but once upon a time Americans were against fighting other country’s wars.

America did not enter World War I until 1917, a whole three years after the war began largely because of the isolationist sentiments. These feelings continued into 1941, where they came to a head Jan. 23. And on this day in history, the famous aviator Charles Lindbergh testified before Congress against the Lend-Lease Bill

The Lend-Lease Bill, was a program President Franklin D. Roosevelt engineered that supplied the Allies with materials needed to wage war against the Axis powers from 1941 to 1945. This act ended the United State’s façade of neutrality and went directly against the America First Committee that Charles Lindbergh was the spokesman of. America First was an anti-war group and it was perhaps the largest anti-war organization in the history of America.

Lindbergh had lived in Europe since the conclusion of the trial of the kidnapper of his son. During his time in Europe, Lindbergh became close with the German air force. He dined with Herman Goring and other top ranking German officials – He was presented with the Service Cross of the German Eagle on behalf of Adolf Hitler for his historic 1927 trans-Atlantic flight and his services to aviation.

All of his interactions with the Germans contributed to his Congressional testimony. He argued that the United States should enter into a neutrality pact with Germany and was publicly criticized by Roosevelt for his remarks. Lindbergh was not successful in his suit against the Lend-Lease Bill and resigned from the Air Corps Reserve several months later.

On Jan. 23, the Comprehensive Plan Task Force met at City Hall, the JV boy’s basketball team traveled to O’Fallon to play Francis Howell Central, but 959 miles away and 71 years ago, Charles Lindbergh fought a losing battle.

What that means varies drastically from person to person. Whether it’s apologizing to an old friend, asking someone out, taking a leap in efforts to leave the friend zone, reiterating feelings that have already been confessed or realizing a loss, a grand gesture is by its nature, well, grand.

For me, when I once understood where I had gone wrong, making a grand gesture was just the way to try to go back and fix a mistake. Besides, nobody gets what she wants unless she asks for it — unless she goes after it. There is no middle ground; it’s all or nothing.

The hardest part of the grand gesture isn’t the ride up but when the door opens and the pressure of the wind surprises you; at that point, the only option is to close your eyes and jump. The worst part of putting yourself out there is not rejection. No person is worth dwelling over. No, the worst part is not knowing; wasting your time wondering won’t get you an answer.

The moment you know you’re all in, the next step is to follow through; of course, this is when courage must step in. If your grand gesture is actually important, then it will be worth putting yourself out there. At least the question no longer lingers. Either the story ends the way you intended or it doesn’t.

The execution of the gesture must be comfortable and passionate. No one will agree to a less-than-par-grand gesture. You’re already in the game, so you might as well play.

Humiliation is inevitable, especially in high school. Rather than fearing something, make it a dominant reason for action. I would much rather be remembered as the person who did what she wanted with the risk of being embarrassed than the person who had no courage.

There is no better time to go for it than now. The school year will end; people will move on, and the chance won’t come around again. My mother has always said I have a problem with wanting instant gratification. Well, she is probably right. But if I know I want something, why wouldn’t I go after it? Maybe now isn’t the right time, and maybe I’ll get hurt. But the grand gesture won’t kill me.

And maybe, just maybe, it will all work out just because.

The best part of the risk is the way it feels to have the guts to go after something. Few covet things easily attained. I won’t buy the first dress I know every other girl already has. Movies aren’t made about grand romances that just happen. The characters don’t simply meet, fall in love and the end credits start to roll. People work for what they get: top colleges, the house on the hill, perfection. People go to extreme lengths to attain these things; not everyone has the courage to try, but the ones who do are the best of the best.

When you look back at how you asked your high school crush to prom, do you want to remember that perfectly constructed text message, or would you rather remember what a boss you were for going all out? I promise, even if he says, “No,” it won’t matter in the end. Shrug the moment off and keep going.

But if he says, “Yes,” who knows what adventures await.

By Sonya Francis

When you look at a map, Germany is one of the first countries your eyes are drawn to because it is one of the biggest. It is hard to imagine that the country was once many fragmented states with little cohesion. In fact, Germany wasn’t even an official state until Jan. 18, 1871.                                                                                                         

On this day in history, the first emperor of the German Empire, Wilhelm I, was crowned.

Originally the King of Prussia, he was largely ineffectual during his reign; he took a back seat to his high powered Prime Minister, Otto von Bismarck. Bismarck could strong arm the king into doing anything he wanted by simply threatening to resign. When Wilhelm came to power, the battle to create a united Germany was still ongoing. The main issue was whether to incorporate Austria into Prussia to create one large Germany or to not do so. 

The conclusion of efforts to create a singular German state came to a head when Bismarck altered a telegram sent by Wilhelm I. He made it seem as though the Prussian king had mistreated the French envoy, which insulted the French and war was declared within six days of the publication of the telegram. German troops were mobilized July 14. On Sept. 19 they began to besiege Paris. The city surrendered Jan. 28, 1871, but that did not stop the German army from prematurely crowning Wilhelm in the Hall of Mirrors in the Versailles Palace on the 18^th.

On Jan. 18 the Douglass Park Forum took place at Douglass High School and bowling try-outs were at AMF Town & Country, but 141 years ago and 4,534 miles away, a new age began when a king became an emperor.

By Jessica Jost

Get awesome biceps with the Shake Weight!

Get instantly slim abs with the Ab Circle Pro!

Infomercials are addictive.

Because of my insomniac tendencies, I tend to watch infomercials late at night. I’ll stay up until 3 a.m. staring at infomercials and writing down the toll free number at the bottom of the screen.

I cannot stand the temptations of ‘As Seen on TV’ products. The first time I walked into a Bed, Bath and Beyond, I was awestruck with the ‘As Seen on TV’ sections throughout the store. I wanted to buy everything.

But more than the mere purchase of the product, there is still something enticing about the actual commercial. Maybe it’s the seemingly magical demonstrations or the hopeful testimonials. I’m not sure what it is, but I always wanted a Kitchen Ninja System or a Micro S’mores maker because those gadgets make it easier to chop my own vegetables or make my own s’mores. It is just so much more convenient to have a machine do it for you.

Writer Jude El Buri with her beloved Jack LaLanne juicer.

This phenomenon that is taking over my life is not recent. Years ago, while I was at a Girl Scout camp/convention thing, I silenced everyone in my hotel room and forced them to watch a Topsy Turvy Tomato Planter infomercial. My friends taunt me of that incident, but I still defend my love of it.

Even the Saturday Night Live sketches I seem to enjoy the most are infomercial spoofs. They show the insignificance of the ‘celebrity status’ of the host, such as the second runner up of Miss Indiana. They crack me up because of how often I watch infomercials and how similarly the spoof portrays a product.

I actually relate to those infomercials as well as their spoofs counterparts. Despite how frustrating my urge to buy “As Seen on TV’ products is, I do love infomercials, and this guilty pleasure will probably never cease.

By Jude El-Buri

The official portrait of Ivan IV. His ferocity is evident even in this nearly 400 year old painting. This image is in the public domain.

When I woke up this morning, I took a shower, pulled on my clothes and ate breakfast. Nothing was extraordinary or even different than every other morning in my life. But this day isn’t just a regular Monday.

On this day in history, Ivan IV became the first ruler to be crowned Tsar of All Russia.

Better known as Ivan the Terrible, the man took over the Khanates of Kazan, Astrakhan and Siberia. He created a standing army and by his order in 1553, the Moscow print yard was established and Russia gained its first printing press. St. Basil’s Cathedral was built in Moscow during his reign, and, contradictory to myth, he did not blind the architect who built the cathedral.

However, Ivan is not famous because of the aforementioned accomplishments.

The main reason Ivan is remembered is because of his mental instability and fits of rage, one of which ultimately led to his killing his son and heir.

One of the reasons behind his instability is found in his childhood. As the heir to the throne, he was bullied by the boyars (Russian term for lord) and even witnessed a murder at a very early age. His mother also died when he was young in what is believed to have been an assassination attempt, which developed his paranoia and mistrust of those around him.

His first wife, Anastasia Romanovna (who gave her name to the Romanov dynasty) was able to assuage his temper, but when she fell ill he immediately assumed that she was assassinated and spiraled into madness.

On Jan. 16, Martin Luther King Jr. day was observed and  Columbia Public Schools were closed. But 5,228 miles away and 465 years ago, a boy called Ivan woke up and put on a crown.

By Jessica Jost

A barren landscape where the only building left standing is a torn-up home, no longer inhabitable. Power lines can be seen stretching across the sky in the background, reuniting the citizens of Joplin, Mo. Photo by Kaitlyn Marsh

I grew up in Neosho, Mo., a small town 20-minutes southeast of Joplin with no mall, one Wal-Mart and a small skating rink for entertainment. So, of course, a short trip up the road to Joplin was a common luxury, which was also where my grandparents lived.

I stayed in southwest Missouri until I was 11, but upon moving to Columbia, we still made the four hour trek to Joplin about four or five times a year for family get-togethers.

Bottom line: Joplin was a part of my life.

Driving through the area in early June with my family a few weeks after the catastrophe, I saw something that nearly shattered my soul:  Joplin looked like a war zone.  I know you have all heard recollections of this tattered city, but it is true this community cannot be experienced in its entirety without seeing it in person. Pictures will never depict the devastation and death that still lingers there nor the hope that peeks through the rubble and is bringing a city together.

Touring the area again duirng winter break, I saw many improvements since last August. With most of the debris removed from the area, which was enough to fill three new landfills in different states, rebuilding is the next priority on Joplin’s “to-do” list. Something that is working to connect and improve the community is the new power lines.

Immediately after the disaster, there was nothing but stubby trees closing the mile distance between Main Street and St. John’s hospital. But the construction of power lines there represents the spirit of Joplin citizens to restart and prove that they are not afraid of what may come. This city has been brought together on the belief that a connected community has the determination to rebuild, recover and provide support for its neighbors.

Every two weeks, on Sundays, for the next four months until the exact day of the one year anniversary, I will be recalling my memories in pictures and words, depicting Joplin’s recovery and reestablishment. I hope you will join me on my journey to remember and rebuild the city that means more than a dot on a map.

Read in-depth coverage on Joplin here.

By Kaitlyn Marsh

Used under the Fair use Doctrine from juandiegoflorez.com

Every day, a baby is born. In the time it took you to open this webpage and read the first sentence, four babies were born. And today in history, Juan Diego Florez was brought into the world.

To the average American, this name means absolutely nothing. To Peruvians and opera lovers however, this name is synonymous with most in demand bel canto tenors of our time. A celebrated operatic tenor, his career began humbly enough; he worked as a replacement singer at his mother’s pub where he sung anything from huaynos to Elvis Presley. He enrolled at the Conservatorio Nacional de Musica in Lima, Peru at age 17.

His classical voice was cultivated there, and he was taken under the wing of the Peruvian tenor, Ernesto Palacio in 1994, who became Florez’s mentor.

His breakthrough came two years later when he performed as the leading tenor in Matilde di Shabran. He debuted at the New York Metropolitan Opera in 2002 as Count Almaviva in Il Barbiere di Siviglia.

He has also released six solo recital albums with the Decca label,  and he has received the Gran Cruz de la Orden El Sol del Peru from President Alan Garcia, Peru’s highest honor bestowed to Peruvians. He was also nominated for a Grammy in 2009 for his album, Bel Canto Spectacular.

Today, on Jan. 13, The Blue Note hosted the Lunar Mansion, Ping Pong club took their yearbook picture in the PAC, but 3,728 miles away and 39 years ago, one of the world’s best tenors was born.

By Jessica Jost

“That awkward moment” is a trend that started approximately a year ago and involves quoting one of the many awkward moments in the day-to-day activities of the common teenager. “That awkward moment when you see your ex-boyfriend having dinner with another girl” or “that awkward moment when the guy in the car next to you at the stoplight sees you dancing to ‘Dance’ by Big Sean.”

Something about awkward moments just isn’t right — the majority are not awkward. “That awkward moment” is stuff that happens in everyday life. It’s simply not awkward. Oh, man, I saw my ex-boyfriend at dinner once with another girl. It would have been really awkward, but I did the mature thing and waved politely before following the waitress to our seat. And about that one time when that guy was watching me dance in my car, that’s not awkward on my part. That’s his fault. He was being creepy and watching me dance in my car. That’s weird.

“That awkward moment” needs to end. Not everything in everyday life is awkward, nor does it have to be. People have made assumptions by overplaying simple occurrences in everyday life. If people continue to make things uncomfortable and tense, no one will be comfortable.

I will give people some leeway. There awkward moments happen in real life. When someone walks in on me after I’ve gotten out of the shower and lingers a bit, that’s awkward. Or when I call in sick to work and then rear end my shift manager on the way to the mall — that’s awkward. This life makes plenty of room for awkward moments. Even though, they aren’t the ones I see tweeted and posted up on Facebook. But the day I see a “That awkward moment when you are the cashier at Gerbes, and you check out your father who doesn’t pay child support, and he doesn’t recognize you” Facebook status, I will know the general population has reached my standards.

Even if they are really awkward, “that awkward moment” tweets and statuses need to disappear. Not only are they obnoxious and, for the most part, not really awkward, I will never get past the cliché aspect of them. They’re everywhere. And if you haven’t made a “that awkward moment” comment on any social network or in real life, you live under a rock.

A big sound-proofed rock.

At the bottom of the ocean.

Or on Mars.

So keep tweeting about “that awkward moment when you want a milkshake but have no milk” because I will keep mentally scorning them for their unbelievably stupid premise. It’s really not that awkward. The milk’s just gone. Seriously, the other day I saw a hawk eating a kitten. Hawkward. No. Stop.

Today, I hate “that awkward moment.”

By Shannon Freese

photo by Muhammad Al-Rawi

“I have a surprise for you,” my mother said.

I shuddered. From experience, those six simple words had dragged me to a meat processing plant, a museum of spies, a local politician’s birthday party and more. She would never tell me what was in store. She’d simply take me by the hand and tell me what weather to dress for – outdoor.

This time was no different.

She drove, giving little hints, but I was unable to guess. She pulled into a shabby looking parking lot and took me up many flights of stairs. When we reached the top, she said, “the observatory.” I half laughed, half grumbled. It was educational — just as I had feared.

But as we made our way to the giant telescope, I began to smile. We waited about an hour to use the machine, and as I looked through it I got the chills, little tiny bumps of excitement running up my legs and arms.

I was delighted by the stars, as probably all visitors do, but the real treasure did not come to me by looking through the lens. Little kids with pudgy hands pushed and wailed for their turn, and I had had enough, so I followed the second tour.

The guide led us out to the darkened balcony just outside. I physically began to tremble; it was that overwhelmingly beautiful. The lights from all the businesses and houses and cars lit up the city below me. The cold air whipped around my face, making the man droning on about constellations sound mute and letting me enjoy the Columbia view.

It was almost romantic. I loved the city’s mannerisms: the gentle shuffle of the cars up and down the main roads, the rhythmic sway of the Bradford Pear trees and the way the cold air made my eyes well up and my cheeks sting.

I spent hours there, sitting on an air duct with knees pressed up against the grey stone as I memorized my city.

The observatory’s balcony at night is a tiny escape. It is a place of contemplation, a place where, when my joy or sadness feels too large to be contained in one small room. I can let my feelings fly free, no walls or ceiling to hold them in. It is a safe place nestled in the sky where I cannot only watch the stars above me but my bustling home below.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

There are things in life that you have to participate in! Life is too short to miss out on all the wonderful things the world around you has to offer.

This tee shirt displays the movie poster associated with the movie, "Band of Brothers." Photo by Sami Peterson

Jan. 2 was a sad day. It wasn’t because winter break was ending or because I was battling a cold. No, Monday was a sad day because it marked the one year anniversary of the death of one of our finest.

On this day in history, Maj. Richard “Dick” Winters died.

It is highly probable that none of our readers recognize his name, but he was a fearsome man. Winters commanded Easy Company of the 101st Airborne during World War II. He was a part of the D-Day operation and parachuted from a plane into Normandy. He led an attack that destroyed a battery of German guns firing onto the causeways that served as the exits for soldiers from Utah Beach. The Germans were estimated to have 50 men at the battery; Winters only had 13 soldiers. But Easy Company destroyed a battery with only these 13 men. The attack he led is still used in instruction at West Point.

Winters led Easy Company at Bastogne, where the entire 101st Airborne and parts of the 10th Armored Division engaged in a week long struggle against an estimated 15 German divisions. After the hostilities at Bastogne, Winters was promoted to Major and was also made the acting battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion. Winters and the rest of the 101st Airborne were sent to occupy Berchtesgaden, Germany, where Hitler’s mountain house was located and where other senior Nazi officials vacationed. It was there that the 101st Airborne celebrated the end of World War II.

He was the last commander of Easy Company to pass away and there are only four members alive today. More than 60 years have passed since WWII, but Winters is still remembered fondly by his fellow soldiers.

“He was a compassionate man and leader,” said Easy Company member and Staff Sgt. Bill Guarnere. “We could use more people like him today.”

With the war over, Winters eased back into civilian life and worked in the plastics adhesives business and eventually went into farming. In 1992 the entire Easy Company rocketed to the spotlight with the publication of Stephen Ambrose’s Band of Brothers: Easy Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne from Normandy to Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest which was in turn made into the famous HBO mini-series “Band of Brothers.”

This Jan. 2 in Columbia the Daniel Boone Public Library was closed because of a federal holiday, the Bruin wrestlers faced off against Helias Catholic and won by seven points, but one year ago and 918 miles away, the last commander of Easy Company passed away.

By Jessica Jost

Hopefully the walk will punish you enough to the point where you’ll regularly arrive to school on time. Besides, it’s always better than parking in sophomore alley. The parking tags, while being hideous, aren’t nearly as ugly as those from last year. And the best part about the parking lot is that it’s located right next to the best high school in Columbia.

Our curse, however, is the after school rush to get home as soon as humanly possible. If you’re not out of class and to your car before the traffic rush starts, there’s no way you’re going to get out of the lot until 3:20 p.m. Being in this traffic is by far the worst thing about the parking lot at RBHS. It’s not necessarily the waiting that’s the bad part; it’s all the stupid, awful stuff that comes with it.

For instance, let’s say you’ve successfully made it to your car, and now you’re ready to back out. Of course, backing out is one of the hardest things to do in the traffic rush. Before you back out, a car that spews a black cloud of exhaust has to rocket behind you and honk because that’s standard protocol for the RBHS parking lot. But you’re not finished backing out yet. You have to wait until after you’ve nearly been backed into (or nearly backed into someone) before you can wait in line. Stupid.

The next most vital step is the getting into line. If you’re lucky, a friend or acquaintance will let you into the line. After an energetic smile or wave, you can now wait in line to exit the lot. If you’re not so lucky, this can be one of the most frustrating parts of the entire lot process. Watching people avoid eye contact so they don’t have to let you into the line is one of the single most aggravating things in the world. The boy in the car in front of you can dig in his console, mess with his radio, look through his backpack, or text all he wants, but not let you into the line even though he notices you. The better of the two avoiders are the people who stare straight ahead. Instead of letting you down easy like the “I’m too distracted to notice you’re trying to get into the line” car boy, the girl in the other car stares straight at the car in front of her, as if your wait doesn’t exist in her brain at all. Awful.

Once you finally get in line, everything starts rolling. If you take a right out of the north lot, there’s more trouble coming your way. The parking lot manager has to let the buses out from the circle drive into the street, which you will never understand why. He halts all forms of traffic that aren’t oversized and Twinkie-yellow. Who cares if they wait? They get paid by the hour, so why does it matter to them how long they have to sit there? For that moment, you want to be more important than those buses. You’re impatient. You just want to go home and heat up leftover pasta and play Skyrim and Modern Warfare 3. They don’t have such pleasures to enjoy! After the buses have been cleared out, the parking lot manager will now let the lowly peasant cars continue with their business. Stupid.

After the Red Sea has been parted for the school buses, the problem is getting away from the building. If you’re leaving the south lot, there’s always that one idiot who decides to turn left onto South Hampton, even though the sign clearly says that no left turns are allowed. And after waiting an extra five or 10 minutes for someone to let them out, you realize how justified the rule is. Out of the north lot, turning left onto Providence Road seems just as dangerous as jumping onto a moving train. Plus, with the constant flow of 55-mile-per-hour traffic, one mistake could end up making traffic stop entirely for a car t-boned. Awful.

Traffic in the RBHS parking lot sucks. When you’re not angry or yelling, you’re sitting in your car flipping through radio stations looking for something that’s not a commercial. There’s a point in time where it’s not even worth it anymore, and sitting in journalism for 30 minutes after school and typing a blog post is infinitely more productive than waiting in traffic will ever be. So once you’re done at 3:35, you can be home in five minutes instead of 30.

Today, I hate the parking lot traffic.

By Shannon Freese

Important events occur on every calender date of the year. Here are the ones of particular note. It is my job, my duty to remind you of the true impact history has on the world of today.

The devastation from the tornado that hit Joplin was almost more than I could take. I grew up there, and now I go back to see the town it is becoming.

Every Saturday afternoon from when my fingers were strong enough to open a book my nerdy mom took me to the Columbia Public Library. Countless hours were spent perusing new titles and running my fingers along the clean spines of the books.

Pirates and princesses, aliens and wizards filled my head as I fought to stay longer. The children’s section of the library is built on that imagination. The dragon’s egg room, the whale chairs in the windows and the streamers and stuffed animal jungle. It is nearly impossible to resist the area’s pull.

Often I would bring my own, well-worn Harry Potter book — cover nearly torn off — and rest in a baby blue whale chair. I dragged my animal friend off the water (carpet) and to the dry land (windowsill). Here I would press my face up against the glass, creating visions of islands, even on the greyest of Columbia mornings.

The library is a perfect glass covered hideaway. The french fries and ketchup statue welcome you with greasy outstretched potato hands. The simple silence of the place fills you with a bookish peace. Here, on your whale chair in the window, you can find yourself.

Sometimes I go back just to remember. I sit in the children’s area and smile to myself, quiet sounds of Oregon Trail clinking in the background. Other times I allow the library to make me an adult, checking out The Jungle from the top floor, or using the study rooms to finish my Precalculus.

This library took care of me, protected my whale watching adventures inside its pages. It kept my imagination perfectly preserved.

By Maria Kalaitzandonakes

This little town of ours is full of treasures. Whether you’re a local or a newbie, Lauren Puckett and Maria Kalaitzandonakes hope you’ll read about and check out our favorite spots.

The one thing that’s common about all backstabbers is their path to betrayal. Backstabbing works in stages. Stage one is gaining trust. Stage two is dishonesty, which eventually leads to a buildup of tension. Stage three, the final stage, is the backstabbing. Oh, and what a backstab it is. These stages are factual, and they work in everyday situations.

Let’s say, for instance, there’s an American-Dominican man who went to high school in Independence, Mo. After high school, he attended college in Kansas City. Soon thereafter, he’s drafted into the St. Louis Cardinals minor league team in 1999. In 2001, only two more years after he joined, he was moved up to the major league team because of his outstanding play.

St. Louis became his place. The fans loved him, his teammates loved him and, like wine, he only grew finer with age. He grew close to catcher Yadier Molina as well as general manager Tony La Russa. Of course, the player’s list of awards grew quickly as he played for the Cardinals (National League Rookie of the Year – 2001, All Star – 2001, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, National League Hank Aaron Award – 2003, 2009, World Series Champion – 2006, 2011 to mention a few).  He became a St. Louis icon, and after playing 10 years on the team, stabbed St. Louis in the back so badly that he became most likely never ever, ever, ever, ever to be forgiven by the fans or the people of St. Louis and Missouri. Stage one.

During the 2011 season, this man’s contract came to an end, and he announced his free agency. Why he wasn’t groping to sign a new contract for another 10 years to play baseball in the best city with the “best fans in baseball,” no one knew. But he didn’t, and that made the fans uncomfortable. It was like wrapping up in a wool rug. Extremely warm, but kind of itchy. The problem was masked by an outstanding run for the World Series. There was a walk-off homerun by a man with the best last name known in existence in game six and also a three-homerun game by the Dominican man the St. Louis natives loved. The fact still remained that his contract had expired, and anybody could make him an offer. The fans were nervous. Stage two.

Unfortunately, after his 2011 World Series win, this man turned his back on the people who loved and cared for him most. The Missouri native stabbed his fans and followers right between the shoulder blades. He signed a 254 million dollar contract with the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. Stage three.

“What?” You may say, “The Angels are terrible! They’ve only won one World Series title! They only went 80-82 in the 2010 season! Not even this outstanding Dominican Missouri native can save this failing team!”

My thoughts exactly. For him, this beloved character of St. Louis, it was all about money. They better start tearing down posters and remaking commercials.

This, of course, is all hypothetical.

Today, I hate backstabbers.

By Shannon Freese

It’s the lights, the decoration and the songs. It’s the cozy atmosphere and that warm feeling I get when December rolls around. I am completely and utterly in love with Christmas.

I’m Muslim, and I don’t celebrate Christmas, but I have to say, one of my guiltiest pleasures is, in fact, Christmas time.

On Christmas Eve, I flop on the couch and watch endless hours of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” I sometimes drink hot cocoa and listen to Christmas songs on the computer.

The cheesy Christmas sweaters come out. The ones that light up and have pop out snowmen or have three zillion sequins on them. Jimmy Fallon initiates his “Twelve Days of Christmas sweater Giveaway.” Sometimes I browse cute Christmas-themed baby clothes or party outfits. I remember the Christmas sing-alongs we had in the school gym in elementary school. I often conveniently “forgot” to tell my mother about them so she wouldn’t come pick me up, and I could join in the fun. My favorite song was “I’m Getting Nuttin’ (Nothing) for Christmas” with its comedic story of a young troublemaker who gets nothing for Christmas.

It was while I was browsing around on YouTube when I saw Justin Beiber’s new Christmas album: Under the Mistletoe. I instantly fell in love with the song Mistletoe, despite my indifference toward Bieber himself, and my being a so called “non-belieber” (in fact, I am listening to “Mistletoe” as I write this).

Living in a mainly Christian society, I have learned to love the atmosphere Christmas gives off. I still have my own strong beliefs, but I can’t help but fall in love with Christmas time. As a Muslim, I believe that the birth of Christ is related in the Qur’an but a little differently. The Virgin Mary is told by an angel that she will give birth to a “pure” son. She gives birth alone in the desert under a palm tree, then returns with the baby to her people. When they assume that she has been unchaste, Jesus speaks up from the cradle in her defense, announcing that he is a prophet.

Muslims don’t believe in incarnation, and that it is not befitting for God to father a Son. So we do acknowledge  Christ’s miraculous birth was from a virgin, but we don’t celebrate Christmas because we don’t believe in the incarnation.

So, my happiness and joy toward Christmas should be something weird for a Muslim, but I can’t help but love it. This year, I plan to rate all the houses in my neighborhood by their decorations. I plan to bob along to Christmas songs and jingles. This year I will get a warm fuzzy feeling when December rolls around.

By Jude El Buri

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve heard about the St. Louis Cardinals winning in seven games. Also, there was a player with my namesake, David Freese, who happened to win Most Valuable Series. Around September as the Cardinals started winning again, a few people decided to up-and-join Redbird Nation like it was their personal calling.

I thought of the Cardinals season like the Six Flag St. Louis ride “The Boss.” If you’ve never been on The Boss, you really need to just pack up a car and go to Six Flags right now. It’s amazing. At first the tension of the start of the Cardinals season was like going up the first hill on the roller coaster. The ride always makes me nervous, and it makes my stomach churn. Then it just drops. It’s thrilling.

However, as the summer rolled around, the Cardinals slowly digressed into suck-age. Injuries stripped the Cardinals of their best player. At the beginning of the year, ace pitcher Adam Wainwright was put on the disabled list for his Tommy John surgery on his elbow. In May third baseman David Freese broke his hand after being hit by a pitch. He didn’t even heal until the end of June. While Freese was healing, Albert Pujols broke his hand and was also put on the disabled list. From June 10 to June 26, the Cardinals were failing – epically. They went 3-12.

Overcoming the injuries was not the only part of chugging slowly up this hill. After August the Cardinals were ten games behind the Atlanta Braves, third in the Wild Card Race and only had a 4.3% (www.espn.com) of being in the playoffs. This time was the climbing of the second hill.

This is where all the bandwagon fans got onto The Boss.

After the second hill, The Boss is just an amazing roller coaster. There’s the part where it goes into the wooden structure of the coaster, the spiral and the short hill that makes the coaster feel like it’s about to jump off the track.

In the Cardinals’ last 32 games, they went 23-9. Let’s face it, they were on fire. Win after win after win and as soon as they clinched the Wild Card, October began and the bandwagon filled up.

Bandwagon fans make me sick. I spent all summer stressing over the return of David Freese. There was a point where I gave up. I sat down on my couch and watched my team sink into a slump that nearly took it out of the playoffs entirely. If I’m going to be honest, the only person I knew who didn’t entirely give up on the St. Louis Cardinals this summer was Alex Brown. He kept his faith; that’s impressive.

I’m glad I followed the Cardinals all season. Without it, I wouldn’t have experienced the absolute joy, satisfaction and fulfillment I had after the third out in game seven. I thought back to the struggles and the times where I turned off the TV in anger and was proud. They did it. They really made a comeback. This is the end of the roller coaster. When I roll back to the launch point, I smile. It’s the perfect end to a perfect ride.

Just because a team does well doesn’t mean you can just hop on the bandwagon. You wouldn’t get on a roller coaster that’s already started. So don’t cheer for a team just because they’re doing well.

Today, I hate bandwagon fans.

By Shannon Freese

I love hearing “WordGirl” define words like crestfallen and strenuous. I yell at the television or wait in anticipation for the outcome of the episode. I even shamelessly laugh at all the jokes the show makes.

When I’m sick, I spend my day drinking warm chicken soup and watching endless “Caillou,” “Curious George,” “Arthur,” and “Cyberchase” episodes.

One day, as I arrived home from school, I went about my daily after school routine. My six-year-old niece, who was visiting at the time, came up to me and asked me why I was watching “WordGirl.”

“Oh, I put it on for you,” I lied. She eventually got bored of the show and left to play with her cousins. I, however, continued watching.

I justify my liking of PBS kids shows with the fact that they are clean. No matter how much shows and movies aim to be a “family friendly,” they never are anymore. PBS Kids shows are the only ones that are still innocent. I feel like it’s the only type of media that doesn’t have dirty innuendos or inappropriate humor.

My other justification is that when I was a little kid, I didn’t have Disney or Nickelodeon./. I only had satellite and my parents made sure to pick only the channels they wanted so as to not pay extra for unwanted channels. So, as a kid, I was stuck watching CNN and MBC and Euronews. The only outlet I had was “The Proud Family,” “Recess,” and “That’s so Raven” on Saturday morning cartoons.

And it wasn’t until I was nearly 11 that I discovered we had a channel devoted completely to children’s programming the first half of the day. It was channel six on local television. To make up for my lost cartoon experience, I delved into “Clifford,” “Between the Lions,” and – my favorite – “Zoom.”

Now at 17, why I still enjoy PBS kids shows is beyond me. Every time I cackle at a joke, my mom rolls her eyes and says, “Really?” I nod my head and laugh even harder. Sometimes, at school the next day, I tell my friends of the jokes I heard on the show or what happened in the latest episode. Despite being called a dork, or being told that I watch the same shows as their seven year old sibling, I continue to inform them.

Watching “WordGirl” is my guilty pleasure. My friends know it, my mom knows it, I’m pretty sure my niece knows it. But there is just something so wonderful about “WordGirl” that makes me unwind from my stressful day at school and keeps me happy on the inside.

By Jude El Buri

Guilty pleasures is a blog about the small things in life I like to secretly indulge in or do every once in a while. I usually wouldn’t admit to them, but my dorky tendencies are slowly coming out, and now I’m telling my side of the story.

No matter how good my greatest accomplishment is, the one-upper always steps in with something he’s done better. While conversing with the one-upper for 15 minutes, I might as well be reduced to nothing but a burlap sack full of bars of soap. In that case, the only good thing about the situation is someone may pick me up and beat the one-upper senseless.

The one-upper’s goal is to ruin your confidence and break your spirit. If you’re lucky, the one-upper will be busy harassing everyone else at the party so you can make your getaway through the back door.

Although I am pretty close to perfect, I’m not the model of a perfect person. I have a few flaws, and I haven’t perfected every aspect of life.

Yet.

In any case, the one-upper should never come to show me the 98 percent on the math test we took last Friday, and he should never come groping after my paper in hopes that my percentage will be less than his. The one-upper’s hands are always clammy with excitement, and his eager eyes look for the red number on the top of the first page. It’s extremely obnoxious, and it’s always been something I’ve hated. It’s my test, why does he care about my score at all?

As soon as the teacher puts my exam down on my desk, I look at the score and quickly flip to the next page, tucking the front page behind the last. The one-upper turns and sees my test in hand, and instantly asks me, “What you got?”  This is his first move, and it’s a classic one-upper tactic.

He will sound interested in what I’ve learned during the past month of mathematical training, but all he really wants is to know his number is better than mine. When I don’t respond, the one-upper uses his last resort. He arches his neck to see the back of the page, gently lifting the front cover so the red marks of my score exposes itself.

“I got three points better than you,” the one-upper will say. “But a 95 is good, too.”

And by the end of the period, the one-upper will say, “I got a 98” so many times his tongue will have dried up and retracted into the back of his throat. No. Please, shut up.

If I’ve ever felt the need to vent to a one-upper, I’ve found my efforts would be better directed at a broken refrigerator. The one-upper will not console. He will try to beat my story with something more terrible and awful than the story I presented. So, my history teacher threw away my test because my phone rang? Well, maybe I didn’t know, but the one-upper is now officially an orphan and is being forced to work 16-hour workdays in Somalia making knit sweaters.

I will never understand this aspect of the one-upper. I can understand wanting to be the best in the room, but why would anyone want to be the worst in the room? The one-upper’s logic is twisted, but he seems to believe being the person with the worst life in the room would somehow make him the best.  The one-upper will never admit his faults until there’s a pity party, and if there’s ever such a party, the one-upper will unplug all the stops and make sure the pity falls only on him and no one else in the entire room like a cascading waterfall of pity swirling into the heart of the one-upper and filling him with satisfaction.

Seriously, the one-upper? He’s pathetic. He degrades other people to get instant gratification. He’s like a racist or a politician. If the people of earth ever plan on functioning in a happy, annoyance-free place, we might as well start genocide of the one-upper sub-species right now. Maybe we could deport them to Canada. Just think about how great the United States would be without them. But of course, according to any one-upping Canadian, Canada would be exponentially better.

But there’s that one time in a thousand attempts that the one-upper will epically fail at something, anything. He will brick out a lay-up during physical education; he will hit the curb turning into a parking lot at Wal-Mart.  The one-upper, in classic one-upper style, will laugh it off and shrug. Sarcastically, he’ll make a comment about how he stinks at everything. In an undertone, he’s implying even the best of the best of humans have their moments, and it’ll never happen again. And you better believe his is the best of the best.

The one-upper epitomizes everything I hate about our generation. The one-upper is an attention sucker, and whenever there’s someone else doing something better than he, he finds it unacceptable. For some reason, being “the best” at something is a display of power and strength, and because the one-upper lacks so much confidence, he’ll suck it out of everybody around him.

So, when I walk into the party and see the plaid-wearing, eyebrow plucking guy working his crowd in the corner, gesturing animatedly as he tells a story about how he defended a group of kindergarten’s from a bear during a field trip, I know who to avoid. Whenever I see him, I feel like I have to leave the room to give his ego enough space. Either that or he just makes me sick.

Today, I hate the one-upper.

By Shannon Freese

My name is Shannon, and I hate a lot of things. These things, amongst numerous other things dubbed too inappropriate for this website, are those things. I hate all of them.