On the Monday morning after commencement, after a night of spilling pitchers of beer on Finny’s dance floor, an evening of spraying champagne bottles outside the Main Building, a day of sitting, standing, sitting, standing and shuffling bleary-eyed from one commencement ceremony to the next, a week of doing our best to avoid the inevitable, and four of the greatest years of our lives, the Class of 2014 and I are emotionally, mentally, spiritually and, most literally, physically hungover.
He’s no science-fiction fan, but back in April Notre Dame astrophysicist Justin Crepp and a team of NASA researchers made a discovery sure to delight E.T. lovers and Isaac Asimov enthusiasts the world over: the first confirmed Earth-like planets in the habitable zone of a sun-like star.
In my various travels as a baseball fan, which have taken me from Angel Stadium of Anaheim to the new Yankee Stadium and a good number of stadiums in between, I’ve never found a baseball experience that more fully lives up to its hype than Wrigley Field in Chicago.
Unlike 85 percent of my Facebook feed, I didn’t study abroad in Europe, South America, East Asia or Antarctica this past semester. Instead, I jumped on a different kind of escape from South Bend; I took a leave of absence for the spring semester to intern in New York City. For me, New York City may as well have been a foreign country.
They say life is about the journey, not the destination, but I think that depends on whether or not you get an outlet seat.
Like a storyline stolen out of an Aaron Sorkin rip-off pilot, I was plunged into the Notre Dame Magazine summer internship on the morning of Monday, June 3, as the staff stared down the hard, unflinching deadline for their summer edition looming only four days ahead.