Voices

Voices is the Op-Ed and personal essay section of The Georgetown Voice. It features the real narratives of diverse students from nearly every corner on campus, seeking to tell some of the incredibly important and yet oft-unheard stories that affect life in and out of Georgetown.

Voices

I gotta find peace of mind

I stand apart from my friends on the lawn of a concert venue during a Lauryn Hill show. I look through my glasses at Lauryn, sitting with her head wrapped. A spotlight focuses on her, her microphone and her guitar. An MTV logo floats behind her shoulder. She begins her song called “Mystery of Iniquity,” a guitar strikes and she croons, “It’s the mystery of iniquity ? “Said it’s the misery of iniquity ? “Said it’s the history of iniquity.

By the September 26, 2002

Voices

In love with Hearts

The Microsoft Hearts Network, or “Hearts,” while carelessly thrown into the Games folder with mere run-of-the-mill diversions, is a fine game deserving of occupying its very own folder. You may have passed over it for the lonely procrastinator’s favorite, Solitaire, the migraine-inducing Minesweeper, the not-without-its-charm Space Cadet Pinball or even for the tragically impoverished Freecell.

By the September 26, 2002

Voices

Exterminators of the world, unite!

I used to pride myself on thinking that I didn’t hate anything. Were there things that I strongly disliked? Of course. I could rattle off a somewhat excessive list of what I abhorred, detested and generally despised with little prompting. But I did not hate.

By the September 26, 2002

Voices

I’m sorry, something came up

This past weekend a group of friends and I went to see Swimfan at Union Station. As we were leaving the theater and entering the Metro station, we saw something fall in front of us, and it took me about 10 full seconds to realize that it was vomit. A guy in front of us was sprayed, looked up and shouted, “I can feel your pain, but Goddamn.

By the September 19, 2002

Voices

Barefoot and pregnant?

I am done with white girls and I am definitely done with cellulite. All I want these days is a nice down-to-earth Taiwanese girl who can make me traditional Taiwanese dinners. Is this asking for too much? I greet this question with a resounding no?I mean, packing lunches and cuisine with a more pan-Asian flavor is strictly optional (knowing how to cook up a mean dika misua may be a requisite but unagi-don or dolsot bibimbop is entirely up to her).

By the September 19, 2002

Voices

There would be other vines

You got a urinary tract infection when you were at school. You divulge the details to me over coffee, leaning in against the edge of the table, the two top buttons of your cardigan in view. You laugh out loud because it’s been so long since you’ve talked about piss.

By the September 19, 2002

Voices

Give this seat to a senior

“Compaq Presario … yup … 1275 … Celeron processor ? C-E-L-E-R-O-N. Yes, they still make those.” The hip technology that once made us the bees knees on campus now dates us as the older generation of students. Once beautiful computer desktops now look gray and boxy next to the smart-looking flat screen thingamajigs that the new students have purchased.

By the September 19, 2002

Voices

Letter to the Editor

Last week’s editorial on the upcoming World Bank/IMF protests, (“Wanted: Police protection,” Sept. 5), while supporting the easily defendable sentiment that safety is important and that everyone should feel secure, nevertheless completely misses the essential issues, relying upon the faulty premise that spending more money to provide more police officers and more riot gear is the best way to ensure safety and security for the city.

By the September 12, 2002

Voices

GUSA’s flawed tribute

If you walked around campus yesterday, you would have undoubtedly noticed many commemorations in remembrance of the tragedy of Sept. 11. In all, 3,025 people were murdered on that day, representing 82 countries. What you would have missed while walking through Red Square, however, were the flags of 68 nations who lost citizens.

By the September 12, 2002

Voices

The benefits of a full-on homestay

I was supposed to leave for England later this month in order to begin a year abroad at St. Peter’s College, Oxford. Yes, I was mere weeks away from gowns, tea, cake, cloudy weather and all of the other attendant debauchery of the U.K. experience when I made my decision to cast it all aside in favor of other pursuits, the first of which is a few weeks abroad at a little place called my parents’ house in Denver.

By the September 12, 2002

Voices

Oh my god! We’re seniors!

Oh my god you guys, I can’t BELIEVE we’re seniors! This is going to be the best year of our lives, I swear. You’re all, like, my best friends, and there’s seriously no one I’d rather have fun with. And there’s so much fun to be had! I mean, senior disorientation is coming up.

By the September 5, 2002

Voices

Letter to the Editor

Ben’s Chili Bowl: A Taste of the Real Washington?

Upon reading your year-opening spread on leisure in D.C. (“New in Town?” Aug. 22), I became a bit disenchanted. Although eye-opening and consistent in format, many of the paragraphs written about local venues were written from an angle often less taken.

By the September 5, 2002

Voices

She works hard for the money

Have you ever had a real job? I mean, an honest-to-goodness clock-in-clock-out here’s-your-company-polo-shirt job? I don’t think you have. I’m disappointed in you. I was hard-pressed to put my finger on it at first. We all look pretty similar. Yet still, I found some subtle difference between myself and most of the people I knew back in the day?high school?and my new companions.

By the September 5, 2002

Voices

Requiem for The Madness

The infectious strain of Nicely Nicely Johnson’s solo from Guys and Dolls wafts haphazardly about the dusty attic of my addled thoughts. Driving nine hours straight. I cough uncontrollably for 15 seconds, gasping for breath and frantically searching my pockets for my inhaler.

By the September 5, 2002

Voices

Letter from the Editor

It is a classic trap that we all fall into: Working hard on day-to-day tasks, with our vision steered toward the future, we forget why we are doing what we are doing. We remember the past only casually, having noted our successes and our failures, what has worked and what hasn’t.

By the August 29, 2002

Voices

Holly: Best in show

Sometime before my brother and I were born, my parents made a pact that our family would never have a pet. They were too much trouble, my parents reasoned, and kids never took care of them even if they promised that they would. It always seemed so out of the question that I never pushed the issue.

By the August 29, 2002

Voices

A healthy portion of denial … on the side

As much as I would like to think that I’m not a fan of sappy movies, I am. Granted, my dad usually finds in me a willing movie-buddy when a new action film comes out, but I’d just as soon watch a Meg Ryan chick flick (well, maybe not Kate and Leopold). So imagine my glee this summer when I learned that my friend had never seen When Harry Met Sally.

By the August 29, 2002

Voices

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?

It was three o’clock in the morning, and after having spent hours conversing in French and sipping French wine with other students, my words in French were leaving my mouth in much the same fashion that boulders leave mountains. That’s when I decided it was time to go to bed.

By the August 29, 2002

Voices

Youth is wasted on me

To an objective onlooker, it would seem that I am turning into an old man. Don’t get me wrong, my wardrobe, in response to nearly eight weeks of indentured servitude in the foreign policy community, resembles that of a misguided eighth grader/rave hooligan (I don’t know which is worse).

By the August 22, 2002

Voices

For your entertainment

“You have to promise me that you won’t get six more earrings, an eyebrow ring or anything like that,” the store manager of the f.y.e. chain music store at my local mall said as she was about to hire me for the summer. “Sure,” I said smiling, picturing Ozzy Osbourne’s gratuitously tattooed forearms.

By the August 22, 2002