A year ago I stared at the numbers rising on the New York Times website. Every day I found myself feeling more inept as 10,000 became 20,000 became 40,000 became 80,000. I stared at the numbers like a moth at lights. Inept and discouraged. I still feel inept. I now have a tab with the New York Times vaccine distribution map. It is weird staring at this good news. Some part of me doesn’t feel hopeful since this is just what needs to be done. We failed and are now picking up the pieces.
This was before the establishment of large public parks, meaning that if you were a Victorian-era urban American, you most likely spent your time outdoors strolling and picnicking with family, friends, and lovers, all amidst the dead.
· Arriving
· The first song you listen to through headphones
· When a good bakery has good tea (the complete experience)
· The crisp, blue outlines of the hills here in Western Oregon
Portland is a peculiar white haven, and I come from a melting pot that smells like urine year-round. Both are good, but very different.
Released on August 25, 2020, Haley Blais’ Below the Salt is an album I wish I had during my first year of college. Coincidentally, that’s when I first started listening to Blais, a Vancouver-based singer-songwriter and vlogger whose wacky sense of humor and DIY bedroom-pop bangers resonated with me, a freshman living on her own for the very first time and trying to make sense of the world and herself. That unsure first-year is a senior now, but no less unsure, and I think that’s the point of Blais’ debut album: her label writes, “Below the Salt is a coming of age story that recognizes that there is no real ‘coming of age.’”
Early in the week of September 14, 2015, an exciting story burst into view within the Reed College bubble. This tale of intrigue was replete with all elements of newsworthiness: a villainous corporation, hungry for money at the expense of the community, heroic neighbors prepared to face dire consequences in order to stand up for what is right, and a clock ticking on impending doom, in the form of a wood chipper poised outside of a lot on 36th and Martins.
My suitcase is too heavy. We enter the renovated Union Depot in St. Paul, full of marble and murmurs. The train’s arrival is delayed in strange increments: 10:17, 10:23, 10:41pm. My mother and stepfather stand on either side of me, making jokes and pressing close. Finally, the striped silver cars roll into the station, glistening with fresh rain.
According to our four year-old selves, one of the triumphs of adulthood is being able to eat ice cream whenever we want. And it’s true — we can eat ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner — but this perk of maturity is often wasted on $6.75 pints of Ben & Jerry’s during 2 AM runs to Homer’s. I get it, sometimes you’re in for a night of problem sets and Hum papers and you desperately need caffeine, pizza bites, and Phish Food, but I also think that we should occasionally embrace our grown-up-ness and treat ourselves to the fancy ice cream that only Portland has to offer in such scope. So, I waited in line and demolished the sanctity of my diet to give you the inside scoop on four of Portland’s best ice cream shops: Cloud City, Ruby Jewel, Salt & Straw, and the newly opened Pinolo.
As the fourth week of classes is upon us, one can feel the general stress level on campus quickly rising from “I have plenty of time to get that Hum reading done” to “that’s due tomorrow?” to “oh wait I have a Bio test right now” to a stressful transcendence of completely giving up. In these trying times, I find it helpful to take walks around campus and see some of that “sunlight” thing that has become increasingly less familiar. While taking a stroll around, something quickly catches the eye of all of us animal aficionados: pups. So many pups. Small pups. Big pups. Pups everywhere. Yes, we have been blessed by the presence of many fluffy gifts frolicking around campus. I encourage you to bother every human walking their precious angel around campus by asking them the question we all feel in our hearts “Can I pet your dog?” But friends, I have decided to go on a mission, a mission to never have to worry about what the preferred pronouns of a pup on campus is, because I will know. I want to learn about as many of the pups on campus as humanly possible. I’m here to do the hard research, and friends, I am here to share my findings with you. So sit back, relax, and level up on your dog spotting game by learning about some of our furry campus friends with me. Welcome to Dogs of Reed.
