With two weeks left in the semester, exams looming overhead and holiday spirit spewing from our kitchens and car radios in the form of honey baked hams and “Jingle Bell Rock,” there probably isn’t much room in your oversensitized brains to think about the future. Since most of us at the Crow’s Nest have a

Four years from now, I can’t help but wonder, besides a diploma, what evidence will there be that I ever came to USF St. Petersburg?  If anything were to happen to me, would it have any impact? Probably not, and that’s chill because I haven’t done much of anything worth remembering. That is something I

One of my first musical memories is of my father playing the piano, singing songs about potty training. (Don’t judge. It was comforting.) It wasn’t uncommon for my sister and I to fall asleep to the sound of keys being played, the melody wafting into our shared bedroom from the piano just outside our door.

That $20,000 piece of paper presented to you at graduation is not a golden ticket for a job. Your clean cut, free of spelling errors, beautifully decorated resume and cover letter will not get you a call for an interview. Most job and internship applications don’t even have sections asking for your grades or GPA.

We’ve all done it. Made up an excuse, which we use as a go-to tactic, as to why we’d rather not continue talking with a person who’s approached us at a bar, maybe even the grocery store or the gym. Instead of expressing our lack of interest in a direct way, we dance around the