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Arnold Zhou/Daily

The proposed cuts were announced mere minutes before I was to interview the dean and assistant dean of the Music, Theatre & Dance School. When we sat down, it was clear they were still digesting the potential loss of the NEA.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

My best friend from the University of Washington messaged me the other day: “Last class of my undergraduate degree!” I responded positively, albeit less animated than usual as I was waking up from a nap. When I got up from my bed, I walked to the bathroom and stared at my reflection.

Hopcat Bar
File Photo/Daily

My dad used to read me Helen Palmer's “Do You Know What I’m Going to Do Next Saturday” before bed. I remember falling asleep planning my own next Saturday. I guess I still do that today.

Do you know what I'm going to do next Saturday? Well sir … let me tell you.

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Illustration by Michelle Phillips
Dear reader,
 
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Design by Michelle Phillips/Daily, Photos Courtesy of Dr. Cassandra Montgomery

Springfield Street, a short stretch of asphalt on Detroit’s east side, used to have so many elm trees shading the road that Detroiters could barely see the sky as they drove on their way to the freeway.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

For the millionth time, he did not deliver me.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

Like any good story, my column starts when a girl walks into a bar. However, this one happens to be my bar, a hallowed hall and point of pride. It’s personal, confessing to which drinking establishment to which you tether time and esteem.

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Alexis Rankin/Daily

Campuses across the nation have been roiled by the question of changing history, or the desire to reconcile modern morality with the darker points of an academic institution’s history.

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Emily Hardie/Daily

What if I never got into the habit of carrying around a reusable water bottle because my mother liked the ease and aesthetic of red Solo cups?

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Erin Tolar/Daily

More often than not, though, the question is asked by someone carelessly inquiring about your future on the off-chance that they’ll be interested.

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Emily Hardie/Daily

I never expected to go to the University of Michigan.

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Courtesy of Ted Janes

As I sat in the small boat at about 8 in the morning, paddling the dingy forward, my “guide,” Carabao Island-native Willy Mendoza, signaled to pull on my swimming goggles.

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Illustration by Katie Spak

How did you do it?

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Courtesy of Anna Polumbo-Levy

As I put my bag of pretzels down on the counter with the rest of my mom’s groceries, I see the cashier do a double-take.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

I’m sitting in my dorm room on a Monday night. A red milk crate next to my dresser contains some of my favorite vinyl albums I have ever bought myself, or found in my dad’s record collection.

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Rabab Jafri/Daily

I never expected to spend the morning of Jan. 24 in the emergency room. I didn’t think I’d be hooked up to an IV when I should have been sitting in my “Origins of Nazism” lecture at 11:30.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

Editor's note: this article contains content related to sexual violence.

To this day, I remember the photos.

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Michelle Phillips/Daily

The other night, I took myself out to see “La La Land” at the Michigan Theater. After countless recommendations from friends, I knew I had to go. The only showing I could fit in my day was at 9:45 p.m. on a Monday night, so naturally it was hard to find a friend willing to tag alone.

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Courtesy of Sam Rosenberg

We park the car in their garage, which always smelled of tar and gas, and I run toward the elevator up to their room. When the elevator opens to their hallway, I sprint down to the end, all giddy and showered, dressed up for Friday night.

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Illustration by Katie Spak

What if I told you that, for one day, I was able to turn back the clock and be a 10-year-old kid again. That for a few hours, I was able to take a break from a world that increasingly felt like it was becoming too much to handle.