The Quest | The Free Press of Reed College

Advice from a Thesising Queditor

It’s completely black and my alarm is screaming. I throw off the covers and stagger across a floor covered with discarded pieces of clothing and old papers. The cat runs under my legs as I stumble into the kitchen, meowing for attention and a bit of food, but the only thing on my mind is […]

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Robert “Schwartz” Khan’s How to Be Cool at Reed

Reed College can be a tough place for new students. Odds are, if you’re going here, you weren’t very cool in high school. But think: There are plenty of people here who were even lamer than you were; this is your time to shine, to become king of this social molehill! As I’ve been here […]

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Serious Advice from a Sober Freshman, Part Deux

Some upperclassmen may have been a tad upset by my last article. Believe me: I totally understand. Some of you may not be used to people my age being snarky or otherwise freethinking — except, of course, back when you were this age and were just as sassy as I am.  Regardless, I do understand […]

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A Serious Resonse to a Sober Freshman

In last week’s Quest, freshman Rachel Pincus laid out a few guidelines for freshmen-upperclassmen etiquette. I think you really missed the mark, Rachel. There’s really only one rule governing interactions between freshmen and upperclassmen: all y’all freshmen need to shut the fuck up. “We served out time as prospies and now we’re just plain old […]

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The Bitchy Queen Discusses You, Your Public Displays of Affection, and Why They Need to Stop

I’ll take my dinner without a show, PLEASE!

Or any meals with soft-core porn for that matter. Honey, don’t make out in front of me when I’m trying to eat.

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Serious Advice from a Sober Freshman

In some of my recent encounters with upperclassmen, I’ve realized we all could learn a little about freshman-upperclassmen etiquette. I’ll try not to be too harsh in my advice since I understand how embarrassing it would be to let a freshman make you cry. Don’t call us weird names. We don’t appreciate being called things […]

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Celibacy and the City

After eighteen years of celibacy, I got comfortable. It became easy to just drink a bottle of wine, come home, and just masturbate myself to sleep. Weekend after weekend, I would put the effort into looking good and trying to snag myself a boy. It never worked. So I gave up.

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