Movie review -
Night With the King' better than the norm
A brown-haired wig
does little for John Noble’s complexion. But aside from a few fatal
wardrobe miscalculations and somewhat messy computer graphics, Michael
O. Sajbel’s newest movie, One Night with the King, is
satisfactorily up to par.
Not that “par” is
anything significant when it comes to the story of Esther, who rose from
Xerxes’ harem to become the Queen of Persia. Having had the opportunity
to read several semi-fictitious books centered on the Biblical account
of the young Jewish orphan (found in the Book of Esther) and laced with
sexuality and conjured intrigue, I expected little of the movie.
When Hurricane Katrina smashed ashore last
year, Louisiana teen Samantha Perez started writing about the
storm that washed away much of her old life. Her journal,
chronicled in the pages of The Tattoo, is all online at
Read it for an eye-opening and intensely personal look into the
eye of the worst storm in recent history.
Radio days: looking back on a life in Bristol
By Rachel Glogowski/ The Tattoo
-- Junior record --
“You look like Congresswoman Barbie,” my
classmates told me as I entered our school’s cafeteria last Monday in a charcoal
suit with my hair down and full make-up on.
My close friends can testify to the fact that
they’ve only seen me get that dressed up about four times since we started high
school three years ago.
It’s a rarity that we see each other in
anything but our school uniforms, but when we do “dress down,” accessorizing
isn’t really my thing. I’m more of the athletic type and tend to prefer
ponytails and track pants over heels and polo shirts, so naturally my classmates
were surprised to see me so dressed up.
That night was
special for our junior class. We assembled in the cafeteria and waited to go
over to St. Gregory’s Church to get our high school rings.
Real friends at a new school
I’m going to
Blair Academy,” I kept reminding myself the whole summer.
I couldn’t believe that I
was going to a boarding school and leaving all my friends and family behind.
I had no intention of going
to Blair. I just thought it would be fun to apply and see if I got in, but not
actually go there.
But when I got the letter
saying that I was accepted to Blair, I jumped and screamed! I was so excited!
But then it hit me: do I really want to go to a boarding school all by myself?
I was unsure if I should go
or not, so I went to the school many times. Everyone there was really friendly
and energetic, and whenever I had a question they were glad to answer it.
My parents said, “It’s like
a school full of Kathryns!”
I realized that they were
right, and that I could probably make friends easily here, since the people
seemed like me.
-- Senior journal --
Gluttony? No thanks
I didn’t eat much this Thanksgiving.
Oh, the HORROR! Your head spins, your stomach growls
menacingly, and you reach across the table to slap some sense into this girl.
What was it, you ask? Diet? Diabetes? Amputation?
Masochism? A monastic vow?
No, my reason for not submitting to the gluttonous
festivities of Turkey Day are none of those above reasons, nor is it related to
the fact that I am vegetarian. It is simply that I, lover of mashed potatoes and
tofu turkey, was not hungry.
We, a collective we, including the general population of
the United States – aside from all two-legged, feathered creatures whose names
begin with the letter “t” – have over the years contrived a pseudo-obligation to
observe the all-American thanksgiving.
Come mid-October, observe the rich brown, the bright
orange, the deep yellow, and the harvest green decking the halls of any Target
By Michel Lee
-- Sophomore chronicle --
Playing around on Thanksgiving
my 12 younger cousins and I, today – the Wednesday before Thanksgiving – is a
time of preparation.
Although most of us cousins don’t do an extreme amount of cooking for Turkey
Day, we prepare in our own way for another family tradition – the annual
Play, which deserves a capitalized title, is a cute little production that has
been performed for the adults for many years on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
see, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, my dad’s entire side of the family goes
up to Vermont, where my aunt and uncle and two of my cousins live.
run through the script, mostly written by my two younger cousins and I, on
Friday and Saturday. Then it is performed in the basement, which has ample
seating for the many adults that watch, after dinner on Saturday night.
the years, the play has snowballed – it keeps getting longer, more creative, and
more intricate as Thanksgivings pass.