Tagged: November
No Shave November
By Hilary Ribons, Staff Writer
@hilaryalexisr
It’s that time of year again. The month before Christmas when the faces of millions of normal American men become engulfed in mountain-men level facial hair.
No Shave November—The chagrin of women (and some men) everywhere.
I hate to break it to you, but copious facial hair: not sexy. Not even a little bit. Please, do us a favor, and shave your face on a regular basis unless your beard is sexy. It’s hard to nail, and few are.
It’s a long withstanding social movement that coincides with the infamous month. Movember, a word combining mustache and November, is a movement that takes advantage of No Shave November by making it into a way to raise money and awareness for prostate cancer.
“… these selfless and generous men, known as Mo Bros, groom, trim and wax their way into the annals of fine moustachery,” according to the charity’s website, Movember and Sons. “Supported by the women in their lives, Mo Sistas, Movember Mo Bros raise funds by seeking out sponsorship for their Mo-growing efforts.”
For No Shave November, you can’t shave at all. For Movember, however, a mustache is required. Therefore, your sideburns can’t touch your mustache, and your chin hair can’t touch it either because that would make it a goatee. This is difficult for most gentlemen.
Of course, hipsters everywhere have extended No Shave November to a year round event, pruning and shaping their mustaches or beards to levels not seen since the 19th century. Maybe they’re protesting the manufacturing procedures of razor producers. Maybe they’re protesting the mainstream clean-shaven look. But most likely, they are just trying to be ironic. We will never know.
But since it seems we can’t stop the onslaught of unshaven men, maybe we can at least attribute a cause to it. So if you are a guy (or a girl, no prejudice) participating in this phenomenon, at least try to raise money for an actual cause. At least Movember has some ground rules.
Enjoy an extreme case of beard, unfolding here:
Tales of a Transplant: Snow dreams
By Ryan Galindo, Staff Writer
@rygalindo
My obsession with snow began when I was very young. I always thought snow was essential to the Christmas season. Like, it just isn’t Christmas if there isn’t any snow. I remember my earliest Christmas memory. I waited and waited for it to snow. Screw Santa—I just wanted snow. But when Christmas flew by without a single snowflake, I was left disappointed.
Of course, now that I’m older I know better. But that yearning for snow never left, and experiencing four seasons was one of the top reasons why I chose to move to New England. Like I’ve said, Guam is sweltering hot, and I just wanted a change of scene. But deep inside, I wanted to play in the snow.
When I confirmed my enrollment to Boston University, I was so excited partly because I knew that I would get to experience that cold, icy, powdery substance people call snow in a matter of months. I wanted be in a snowball fight, make snow angels and build a snowman.
As you all know—and if you don’t, let me remind you—Nov. 7 marked Boston’s first snowfall of the season. Yes, I have that engraved in my memory because it was the first time I had ever experienced snow.
The season’s first snowfall leaves cars in a blanket of white / PHOTO CREDIT RYAN GALINDO
I was at my job at 100 Bay State Rd. I walked to work that day and it the rain was pouring. It was super freezing. Little did I know that those clouds pelting me with icy water would soon drop snowflakes and give me what I’ve been waiting for so long to try: snow. At 5 p.m., I looked outside the window and saw that everything was covered in white. It was amazing and I was in disbelief. Snow, really? Wow. I couldn’t wait to get off work that day. My body couldn’t contain my excitement.
When I got off of work at 6 p.m., I went out with my friend to take my first step out into the cold. It was a glorious moment, touching snow. It feels so soft. I can still hear the crunching of snow under my shoes. And I can still feel the numbness of my face as the hostile winds pelted snowflakes in my direction.
That night I threw my first snowball and had my first snowball fight. I was so enthused that I forgot to make snow angels and build snowmen. I also slipped on my butt a couple of times. Okay, so maybe it was a lot of times. But it was all good.
And call me crazy, but that evening I walked all the way from 100 Bay State Rd. to my dorm in West Campus. I still can’t believe I did that and neither do my friends:
Boston’s first snowfall of the season / PHOTO CREDIT RYAN GALINDO
“You walked all the way there?! And you’re from GUAM?!”
Despite the fun I was having in the snow, the biting cold finally got to me, so I called it a day and went to bed, excited for more snow adventures the next day.
But wow, was I wrong. Everything started to melt the following day. I mean, who would want to play in wet slush? No way am I making snow angels in that. And now, I look outside my window and see that everything is dry. It’s as if the Nor’easter didn’t happen at all.
What a tease. Oh well. I guess I can hold building snowmen and making snow angels until the next snowfall. After all, I did wait several years for my first. What’s a few more weeks?
