Opinion

By Nick Michalski | gargoyle@flagler.edu

Recent conversation with my friend got me thinking about relationships. She confessed that she feels betrayed because her best friend hooked up and started to date a guy she had a crush on. Her hurt feelings imposed a question – Are we sluts?

This might be a very strong word, but doesn’t it describe our reality? Someone will say – “Yes, maybe yours, but not mine!” Let’s try to look at this from a distance and be little bit more critical about ourselves.

Woohoo! You have finally moved off campus. Say hello to your new kitchen, your own bathroom, maybe even a walk-in closet should you be so lucky. Oh and don’t forget that now there are no restrictions to who is allowed over.

Sure, your first $150 electric bill might make you realize your parents had a point when they told you not to leave every light on or fiddle with the thermostat too much. That is, if you even have a thermostat as opposed to the loud, often times inept, window units. But, hey, at least you don’t have a bunk bed.

It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself. —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Many of us in high school were required to do volunteer hours. I do believe I was one of the few who had all my 100 hours for graduation done by my freshman year. I love volunteering. I can’t help it and I constantly get weird responses when I tell people I’ve decided to take my journalism and my psychology majors and make a career in non-profit work, basically, volunteering for a living. I cannot imagine doing anything else.

Woohoo! You have finally moved off campus. Say hello to your new kitchen, your own bathroom, maybe even a walk-in closet should you be so lucky. Oh and don’t forget that now there are no restrictions to who is allowed over.

Sure, your first $150 electric bill might make you realize your parents had a point when they told you not to leave every light on or fiddle with the thermostat too much. That is, if you even have a thermostat as opposed to the loud, often times inept, window units. But, hey, at least you don’t have a bunk bed.

By Nick Michalski | gargoyle@flagler.edu

Dad@hvn, ur spshl. we want wot u want &urth2b like hvn. giv us food &4giv r sins lyk we 4giv uvaz. don’t test us! save us! bcos we kno ur boss, ur tuff & ur cool 4 eva! ok?

Can we call this The New Lord’s Prayer? The traditional version of The Lord’s Prayer could be thought of as “stuffy,” even in it’s updated version. That is why the satirical Christian online magazine decided to “update” it and ran a competition to rewrite it in 160 characters or less, which is standard length of a mobile phone text message.

By Rachel Yaeger | gargoyle@flagler.edu

“If you are chilly, here take my sweater.” It was this line from Ingrid Michaelson’s song, “The Way I Am” from the new Old Navy commercial that I am sure everyone has heard, that got me thinking about fall.

Seasons affect our moods, and with almost 20 percent of Flagler students from the Northeast, many may be missing autumn.

“It’s like a Yankee Candle,” said Matt Pittaluga, who is from Philly. He went on to describe October and September as, “75 degrees, sunny without humidity, good waves, no tourists and pumpkin pie just tastes better at home.”

By Julie Hirshan | gargoyle@flagler.edu

“Obruni? Obruni!!” the children called after us as we passed by, hesitant at first, but then excited that they’d caught a glimpse of the outsiders.

“Obruni” means “white,” and my sister’s fair skin and blonde hair stood out like moonlight on the ocean. There is no doubt that we look like we don’t belong.

The first question I get asked when I tell people that I went to Africa this past summer is, “What did you do there?” I usually reply that I volunteered at an orphanage, but a more appropriate answer would be that I had the most eye-opening experience of my life.

Audio Slideshow: Loving Without Boundaries in Africa

By Rachael Yaeger |

I spent the first two months of my visit to Florence cowering from Italian men, finding them repulsive, sleazy and greaseballish. Under the impression that most Italian guys thought they could get any American girl that walked past, I was constantly infuriated on the streets hearing the relentless, “Ciao, Bella.”