The Baylor Lariat

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.

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.

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

Test, papers, and projects — oh my! It’s that time of the semester where I look like a post-apocalyptic zombie and have zero tolerance for ANY sort of malarkey whatsoever.

This summer, I decided to cut my hair. Okay, that’s an understatement. This summer, I decided to shave the right side of my head.

This year, more than any other year, I’ve noticed a growing number of hipsters at Baylor. In a sea of sorority shirts and Nike shorts, they indeed stand out – and pride themselves in doing so.

Mondays. I hated them as a child when I had to wake up and eat flavorless Cheerios for breakfast, I hate them in college, and I’ll probably hate them until the day I die.