Submit your Hamline confession here: (100% anonymous)
My friend has a 4.0 at Hamline. This morning he called me at 10am to ask me how to use a can opener.
10:18 Thursday night. Paper due 5:00pm Friday evening. I have finished reading Lyndon Johnson's War in preparation for the composition of an essay on Vietnam. The book on the syllabus was written by a man named Michael Hunt. Only five minutes ago did it first occur to me that the book I have read was written by a man named Larry Berman. These are times that try men's souls.
Raisin wine tho. You know who you are.
Halli and Sam would be so cute together.
It's hard for me to be at Hamline because I am both poor and brown and that doesn't seem to exist much here. I remember thinking that going to this school would be one of the best things I could have done, especially coming from a background riddled with addiction and poverty. Well, it doesn't feel that way. I feel separate and isolated. Everyone seems to come from a place where maybe money wasn't great, but at least it is and was there to some extent. Everyone waits in line for ridiculous amounts of time to get a six dollar "trenta" frappe dappe drink at the Starbucks and I can barely afford the grounds of coffee in the trash, not to mention the money it takes to get to and from school on the bus, books, and whatever else flies my way. Everyone seems to fit that oh-so-valued, crisp and clean, good Minnesota image, and I'm just brown and awkward... And please know that I'm not trying to play a victim, I do promise, it's just...hard for me to exist at this institution. I would consider transferring but I'm running out of undergrad financial aid, which would make that next to impossible, and I don't want to transfer. The education here is amazing. I just don't feel like I fit in. Sad, right?
So can I take Lauren Sparks on a date yet? She seems super nice, beautiful, fun and intelligent! I always hear her say she's so busy, maybe a handsome man could convince her to free up some time?
Kudos to those who walk around barefoot. You rock. (Essentially that skinny kid with the beard.)
show of hands of who would be interested in a cooking/baking club