Tubbing dreams
By: Carissa Wiens
It’s easy for me to want new things all of the time, like a strawberry face scrub or a pair of leopard print booties. I don’t always give in to my desires for little luxuries, but every now and again I’ll say, “Treat yo’ self,” and splurge on a chocolate truffle or two.
If I had zero goals in life (and a partner who didn’t budget well) I would give in to all those temptations and squander my savings away. But I do have a goal in life, and it is to have a hot tub.
Hot tubs are not outrageously expensive, especially when you compare it to a year’s worth of rent or a car. The real issue with having a hot tub is having a place to put it (basement suites can’t fit one).
If I had a place for a hot tub, I would give up every desire to purchase anything that I didn’t need. I would use all that money to pay for the water and heating bills to sustain my new hot tub dwelling lifestyle. But, since that lifestyle is unlikely at the moment, I’ll just stick to my current shopping choices.
Come on guys, political science is interesting
By: Alex Jesus
I understand that most people tune into politics for the odd scandal, the occasional election, or maybe if a key political figure comes to a town near them. However, for us political science students, it’s more of a daily thing. Now I understand that for a lot of people, politics are somewhere between annoying and disgusting, if not seemingly irrelevant. Yet here we are: PoliSci students, reading the paper and complaining about the latest news.
Here’s the thing: politics actually matter, even if you’re not interested. You’d be surprised at the change you can make just by interacting with your local MPs. I know, calling up your local representative isn’t exactly the coolest thing you can tell your friends about on Monday, but getting into politics has a little something for everyone, because it’s supposed to work on behalf of everybody.
The next time you think about climate change, notice a city program you think needs more attention, or drive over a pothole on your way to school, consider using your rights as a citizen to make your voice heard. You never know what change you can make until you try.
The wrong way or the wrong way
By: Aleister Gwynne
Maybe you’ve heard the mnemonic: “lefty loosey, righty tighty.” This is a universal truth, except of course, when it isn’t, which is about 50 per cent of the time. Then, you have my bathtub at home, on which the taps turn in opposite directions for some unfathomable reason.
Why does my wallet always get turned upside down and spill my change into my pocket? Why does my phone get turned upside down making me awkwardly flip it over every single time?
Why is it when you read a label in Canada, it’s always the French side facing you? Do people in Quebec have the opposite problem? “Chalis! C’est toujours le côte Anglais!”
You would think that after a while, I would be able to guess which side of my laptop case actually contains my laptop on the first try. Nope! Wrong every time.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on life as a left-hander and all the complications that causes.
Is it too much to ask of this cruel, uncaring universe that once, just once, something is already facing the right direction?
Stay gold, SUS’ severed limbs
By:Mikaela Collins
susAh, Halloween. The time of year when the weather becomes bearable, Beetlejuice is on cable almost constantly, and SUS brings out its assortment of severed limbs.
I’ve watched these holiday visitors since Fall 2015, when the hollow plastic hands and feet and their bloody stumps could reliably be found on SUS’ waiting area coffee tables; occasionally they were artfully arranged, like fruit in a picturesque bowl. This was their home base for several years, but they would sometimes be delivered to other, more logical places — for instance, anywhere with any other Halloween decorations at all — but usually, they would just be there. On a table.
This year, however, they were at the pumpkin carving contest. The lower half of a leg lay on the floor outside, beckoning to passerby, and the rest graced the foot of the decorated voting table. It was bittersweet to see them there. Gone were the bold, carefree severed limbs of my youth, boldly declaring, “It is Halloween. We are severed limbs on a table.” They’ve found a home, a community of other Halloween decorations. Will they be integrated into another display next year? I can’t say.
The only thing that’s certain is that nothing gold can stay.
Illustrations: Kelly Ning/The Cascade
