Browsing: Blogs

It’s not that I’m not invested in my thesis. I’m writing about two of my favorite things: women and food. (Food & Feminism, hello?) It’s just that I’m burnt out and tired and this is the home stretch.

At the Lariat, we sit all day long. We consume news while in chairs, hold meetings while in chairs, write and edit stories while in chairs, we talk on the phone while in chairs, design the newspaper while in chairs and tell a bunch of random stories after deadline while in chairs.

It’s important for satirical news to be good, if only for my sanity. And for “The Daily Show” to stay at the top of a growing pack, they’ll need a stellar replacement.
Here are my top 10 nominees to replace the one and only Jon Stewart, whose shoes will never, ever be filled.

I walk into my Tuesday 8 a.m., unsure of what to expect. “Rhetoric I,” the class is called. An intense name for a freshman BIC course, but then again, I’m not even really sure what the BIC is. My classmates and I avoid eye contact with one another, but when our eyes do happen to meet we are sizing each other up, wondering how smart the other is.

When you work at the Lariat, there are just some things you have to suck up. For example, as I write this four of us are working outside our normal hours to make sure everything’s done for the night. Whether it’s missing out on a social life or walking around like a zombie due to lack of sleep, Lariat staffers tend to deal with some necessary evils.

You probably saw this photo floating around in your newsfeed.

My dad told me bringing my dog to college would be a huge mistake. But despite my father’s warnings that my GPA would drop, I brought Bachelor anyway. (That’s my dog’s name, Bachelor. I want to be clear that I did not bring a single-and-ready-to-mingle man with me to Baylor.)

It probably wouldn’t surprise anyone to hear that we talk about current events quite often at the Lariat. A group of us were going over recent national headlines before this semester’s first editorial board when someone found an article about the Secret Service being in hot water for inappropriate behavior, again. The article suggested that the Secret Service needed a complete culture change and probably wouldn’t accomplish that without outside help.

By Jonathon S. Platt News Editor There’s a special conversation we’re having in the journalism world. News professionals are asking…

The Baylor Bears played in its fifth straight bowl game this year, something that has never happened in program history. I was lucky enough to cover the 79th Goodyear Cotton Bowl Classic in Arlington as part of the Lariat staff over the break. It was exhausting, exhilarating, thrilling and memorable all at the same time.

I wake up shivering, toes literally (and I meant literally) frozen. I check the weather app on my phone. Forty-three degrees. Yesterday was 65.

Without fail, just about every night at the Lariat a discussion about sports breaks out. Like most in the Baylor Nation, the Lariat staff is paying close attention to the college playoffs committee’s rankings.

It’s beginning to look a lot like a metropolitan Christmas. Seriously, everywhere you go.

After years of hiding in the closet with my old-school hip hop and Bon Iver, I’m finally coming out. I hereby announce — without shame and without regard for the friends who might turn against me — that am a Taylor Swift fan. Go ahead, you obscure-indie-listeners and rap-music-devotees, say what you want. Call me a “Swiftie,” even, because that’s exactly what I am.

I like movies. I like music. I like art and fun festivals. But today I’m taking a break from the usual fluff of the arts and entertainment desk to touch on one of the most terrifying topics for someone in my position – sports.

Last week I wrote about men behaving misogynistic toward women. This week I’m looking in the mirror to observe ways in which women are cruel to one another.

Now that the Ebola scare has settled down since the infected doctor in a New York hospital was released into the world recently, I too thought my dread of falling ill could finally pass. As I’ve mentioned in a previous blog, I’ve been fighting off an incessant cold practically since I landed here. However, as I’ve learned over the past week, sometimes it’s best to accept one’s sickening fate.

Before I start this piece, I’m going to explain a bit about how staff writers and reporters are able to divide and conquer: We have what is called a beat.

Hi, my name is Taylor, and I’m a closeted introvert; that is, I’m an introvert pretending to be an extrovert.

Acts of misogyny — no matter how subtle or small — should not be tolerated or condoned. The term “boys will be boys,” which has often been used to excuse seemingly harmless misogynistic behavior, must no longer be a part of our vernacular. Men, for your own wellbeing, I’ve compiled a list of things NOT to do in order to avoid being a petty misogynist.

To be sure that another visitor to the city of brotherly love does not repeat my suffering, I’ve laid out three big do’s and don’ts for people to consider before planning their trip that will hopefully save their time and taste buds from the unfortunate experiences I had.

For the last couple months, I’ve felt my Texas roots growing weaker as I’ve tried to build my nest in the Big Apple. Of course, I’m incredibly proud of where I come from, but apparently there’s just some things about me that don’t allow this Bible Belt girl to sink into the New York crowd.

I’ve got a lot of scary stuff on my mind lately, and it actually has nothing to do with Halloween.

Golf carts are the holy grail of campus transportation. If you had asked me what I thought of the four-wheeled vehicles this time last year, I probably would have ranked them lower than first-time long boarders on the “sidewalk inconvenience” scale.

I’m going to be honest: I’ve never developed a huge tolerance for people of different cultures. Not because I was incapable or unwilling; I’ve simply never been around more than a few of them at a time.

Picture this: it’s 10:30 p.m. and you are stuck behind a desk stressing over deadline and the loads of homework you have to conquer after you get off work. Now imagine hearing laughter, nerf guns and general sighs of relief from other section editors who have already finished their page. Guess who isn’t laughing – the news editor.

In a world where there’s a Starbucks on basically every corner, one caffeine junkie will make it her mission to find New York’s celebrated coffee joints, proving nobody has to settle for $5 sweetened burnt espresso.

I have big news to share with everyone today: I am in love.

Where were the Lariat staffers during the now-infamous ‘kick’?

As of this week, it has come to my attention that I have a certified “pouty resting face.”