In recent conversations with some of my close friends, it has come to my attention that I have been dubbed the “almond friend.” A play on the popularized caricature of the “almond mom” on social media, the almond friend shares a similar obsession with health and fitness to these moms, who often project their extreme health habits onto their children.
Lars von Trier emerged as a filmmaker who experimented with intertwining the avant-garde and melodramatic. He and Thomas Vinterberg penned the Dogme 95 manifesto, which outlined a new generation of art house creativity. It called for all camerawork to be handheld, denounced superficial action and prohibited optical work and filters, amongst other rules. Independent films after the 1995 conception of the Dogme 95 movement, especially those from von Trier, were not all strictly a part of the movement but remained mostly inspired by its goals and guidelines. “Breaking the Waves” (1996) is a prominent and majestic example of the style in action. “Dancer in the Dark” (2000) is possibly the strangest example, while also being one of the most remarkable.
So far, I have not dedicated an entire article to one artist. However, I believe that the truthfully meteoric rise of Dallas-based singer and songwriter4batz warrants some consideration in the conversation of industry plants. Despite having just released his first song, “act i: stickerz “99”,” in June 2023, and so far, only five songs total, 4batz somehow currently maintains 17 million monthly listeners on Spotify. Moreover, 4batz received the ever-coveted “Drake Stimulus Package”— essentially, the phenomenon of when Drake remixes the song of an up-and-coming artist, which massively boosts their streams, clout and revenue.
As flowers begin to bloom and the occasional breath of fresh air becomes more frequent, we know that spring is on its way. Unsurprisingly, my cabin fever is manifesting itself in a desire for fresh spring and summer produce, as evidenced by my recent YouTube history. I’m dreaming of Saturday morning trips to Minneapolis farmers’ markets to get June ramps, July corn and August tomatoes.
Something terrible happened over spring break. No, I didn’t fall off a zipline exploring the jungles of Costa Rica. I — it’s embarrassing for me to say this — had a latte. Twice (insert shocked emoji). To paraphrase Obi-Wan Kenobi’s words, I’d become the very thing I swore to destroy. After years of decrying those highfalutin beverages with endless varieties of milk and flavored syrup, I not only tried but enjoyed two swanky coffees. So, in breaking with my usual hot coffee and hazelnut creamer, I thought I’d take my primed palate back to Medford and sample Tufts’ coolest caffeinated creations.
“The four sisters had beat with one heart for most of their lives.” This line sums up the central message of “Hello Beautiful”: a close bond of family can span generations and survive many forms of disaster.
During my psychiatry rotation at Tufts Medical Center, I found myself in the emergency room, helping determine whether a patient should be involuntarily hospitalized. The task of committing someone against their will is riddled with ethical dilemmas. Throughout my medical education, the notion of patient autonomy stands paramount to any other ethical principle. But, in the ER, the tenet completely unravels.
“Life is getting pretty real,” one of my friends said as I was attempting to peacefully eat my Hodge bowl in the hallway. When we sensually locked eyes, his pupils were filled with anxiety, nerves and worries. It wasn’t until later that night when I was staring at the ceiling of my dark, lonely single when I realized that life is, actually, getting real.
This week’s focus, although not a specific award, is on the most surprising teams from this season. These are the teams that most exceeded my expectations and are in a much better position than most thought that they would be in.
This past weekend, I made the long and grueling journey all the way back to the Motherland. In other words, I comfortably slept on the Amtrak for 2 ½ to go home for the weekend. Even though I already had a special spring break edition for last week’s kitchen write-up, I knew I had to seize the opportunity to cook in my very own home kitchen as a nod to my culinary roots.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting with my friend and her study group in The Commons Marketplace, working away on an assignment. As we talked spring break and the onset of March, the conversation turned to the Indian festival of Holi. “Oh yeah!” exclaimed someone at the table, “Isn’t that like Indian paintball?” I suppressed a chuckle, agreed and added that we also dance around a fire at midnight and offer a vial of our blood to celebrate springtime. The comparison did stay with me though, having struck me.
This past Sunday, I woke up early, hopped on the T, and spent my morning strolling around Central Square and the surrounding neighborhoods. For those interested in visiting, you can take the Red Line from Davis Square and reach your destination within 20 minutes.
“Bohemian Rhapsody.” “Blonde.” “Oppenheimer.” “The Iron Claw.” “Rocketman.” “Maestro.” “Elvis.” “Priscilla.” “Napoleon.” “Ferrari.” “Nyad.” All are films that came out in the last six years, and all are films that denote Hollywood’s staggering obsession with biopics. Biopics have always been a staple in American cinema, but their explosion in recent years is a Band-Aid over the fatal wounds dealt to Hollywood by streaming.
This tournament has flown by. Just two weeks ago, we had 68 teams in the field, ready to battle it out for the most important trophy in college basketball. Now, only four remain, with three very compelling games left to be played in Arizona. As always, the tournament has been almost unpredictable, but here are my picks for each game and the new (or not so new) National Champion.
When I was in middle school, I became seriously sick due to an asthma attack. While I recovered relatively well, I continued to use my sickness to persuade my parents to let me stay home which resulted in me missing weeks of school. While I felt great about not having to listen to my teachers or learn algebra, the results were predictable: I failed most of my classes during the last quarter of seventh grade. The ramifications of my actions continue to this day, as I struggle deeply with math because I skipped so many days of class back in seventh grade. My experience is not unique; chronic absenteeism, as this phenomenon is called, is a persistent problem for millions of American students.
Last Monday night Moroccan officials caught the first glimpse of the crescent moon, marking the beginning of Ramadan: the holy month of Islam in which Muslims abstain from eating and drinking until sunset. The beginning of Ramadan coincided with my spring break, meaning I was not able to experience the first few days of Ramadan in Morocco. But between watching the city frantically prepare for the holiday and returning to a new environment, completely immersed in the Ramadan spirit, I can now say that I’ve experienced the unique ethos of Ramadan in Morocco.
The stereotypical college spring break involves jet setting to the sunniest of beaches in countries with a lower drinking age. And yet, my spring break group was not yet sick of the cold. We traveled to Iceland last week and found ourselves in a remote fishing village in the Westfjords during their worst snowstorm this season.
As one of the main cultural hubs on the eastern seaboard, Washington, D.C. fosters a strong intellectual culture of discovery through its museums. As Tufts students, we’re spoiled with fairly easy access to incredible museums in Somerville, Cambridge, Boston and the outskirts of Massachusetts through the T.
The “Unissued Diplomas” exhibition is a collection of short stories about Ukrainian students who were killed in Russia’s war against Ukraine. To honor their memory, a series of digital postcards was created, detailing their majors, interests and the tragic stories of their deaths.
The NCAA gymnastics national championships are coming up in April, and there’s one thing we’re certain to see — leotards with completely open backs. These sorts of leotards have become standard issue in college gymnastics. On the one hand, an open back makes it possible to see the athletes’ muscles and appreciate how strong they are, especially on bars. However, there is one major issue with this design choice: the vast majority of backless leotards make it impossible to wear a sports bra.
