Notice one morning that your orchid is starting to look strained. Pick up the fallen petals. Water it, but know that this, like a leprous spot, is a sign of the beginning of the end, and that from now on, water will merely prolong the inevitable.
Meg Schmidt (’16) graduated after studying writing and art history. Her interests include attempting to cook paleo, reading through McBrien’s Lives of the Popes, and landing the wittiest joke in a conversation. She currently works with Eerdmans Publishing as a Graphic and Production assistant.
by Meg Schmidt | Feb 3, 2018
I was explaining this to a friend once when he informed me that cheering—or jeering—at a crowd was all about group community. “We rise and fall together, we yell and cry together.”
by Meg Schmidt | Aug 3, 2017
I simply feel that I could make a few very small and practical changes that would improve our situation greatly.
10 / The Office will have ended when Jim and Pam got married.
by Meg Schmidt | Jun 3, 2017
“Mature reaction to a routine colonoscopy: HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE SEVENTEEN THOUSAND FEET UP YOUR BUTT.”
by Meg Schmidt | Jan 3, 2017
6 / A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning, by Lemony Snicket. In preparation for the Netflix adaption.
by Meg Schmidt | Oct 3, 2016
The fun sexy couple that is totally giving you the side eye and feeling really, really uncomfortable because you are just standing there.
by Meg Schmidt | Jun 30, 2016
We had been bearing all of these trials patiently enough, however, until the day the toilet started belching. I want you to imagine what that must sound like, and after you have, I want you to imagine me hearing those sounds alone in the apartment—which coincidentally, did not contain a plunger.