Opinion

I have a box sitting at the bottom of my closet. It’s supposed to be my “keepsake/memory box,” although it doesn’t look anything like those antique, vintage trunks you see in the movies – you know, the ones you find in a shadowy corner of your attic, waiting for you to dust away its dark family secrets.

Half a tank left of gas. The speed limit is 45, but I’m driving 60. The rain can’t make up its mind if it wants to pour or sprinkle. On my right is a man wrapped in a plastic, yellow poncho like a Buddhist monk. On my left is a field where I had hotboxed with my housemates and got stuck in the mud for four hours. I’m driving 65. Then 70. 80.

Next week, students will vote on the peers that will represent them as both executives and legislators in ASUCD. Elections start Feb. 17 at 8 a.m. and last until Feb. 19, when online polls close at 8 a.m.

When I was a kid, my family made regular outings to our local Barnes & Noble to hang out all day and read whatever we wanted. It was fun, free, and my dad knew he would be called over the intercom if one of us yelled or started bleeding. (FYI, we did buy books to make up for our time spent browsing.)

I guess it’s hard for me to blur the line between love and everything else because the last time I hung out with a guy, we watched that old classic Pirates XXX. It didn’t even occur to me until later that he was probably thinking of dead kittens the entire time to avoid an awkward situation. College has this desensitizing effect when it comes to romance.

So I’m sure you’ve heard of this place called New Jersey. If you’ve heard of said place, you might have heard of this thing called “Jersey Shore” and this … uhh, cultural movement called being a “Guido.” If you are blissfully ignorant about what I am talking about, then I don’t want to spoil anything for you. (How’s the rent under that rock?) I’ll sum Jersey Shore up in two words: glorified … uhh, irresponsibility. (I am really flipping through the pages of my euphemism dictionary for this one.)

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I thought I’d let you know this week is National Condom Week. The Love Lab, in conjunction with the Cowell Student Health Center Annex, is celebrating in full force in various locations around campus. They have been and will continue handing out condoms and lubrication for the rest of the week. Wetter is better!

So it was my mom’s 30th birthday this weekend (she owes me for that one) and my family decided to spend the weekend at our cabin in Arnold to celebrate. You probably don’t know where the hell that is, and that’s fine. To sum it up three ways, it’s 1) beautiful, 2) densely forested, and 3) cell phone-resistant. That last one drives me crazy every time.

My roommate last winter was a nightmare. She took my food without asking and stayed up all night. Sure, she was quiet, but that didn’t make up for her terrible hygiene. She actually went into my room and pooped in my closet. What a rat!

As college students, we’re all commuters – to an extent, at least. Unless you were raised in Davis and go to college here, too (bless your heart), odds are you’re from some other part of California. Depending on your location of origin and transportation means, how enjoyable your trip to and from school is can vary.

This weekend’s library study-in focused on the fight at hand: education.

When the UC Board of Regents voted in November to raise student fees 32 percent – with part of the hike beginning spring quarter – students were justifiably angry.