Word: eagerness
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...play together afterward, The Seagull, and I just fell in love with him like he was my big older brother. And from the first audition, we had a vibe and we knew how to work as a team. And what some people might not know about him is how eager he is to just conjure something up. He's always messing about and uninhibited, trying crazy ideas. During The Seagull, he had this four-page scene, four pages of dialogue, where I had nothing to say, and one time he got down and laid flat on his back...
...online game of Risk are proof of our superiority to people who live in that place called Dunster. What Harvard students lack in school spirit, we make up for in House spirit. Given that we have practically none of the former, we’re less than eager to let go of the latter, even though physically living in a House isn’t a prerequisite for being really proud that you were randomly assigned...
...though Zisiadis is known for his eager self-promotion, his message still rings true. Student DJs across campus emphasize the intense, empathic relationship that develops between themselves and an elated (or simply drunk) audience. Ultimately, DJs find this relationship the driving motivation behind their practice: the opportunity to make a crowd happy. Indeed, student DJs, given the amount they spend on gear, the time they spend searching for new music, and the time they spend preparing for gigs, make a mere pittiance by comparison. Moreover, they rarely find opportunities to play music beyond a repetitive and narrow...
...Haitian diaspora, Shifter says, "which has proven to be remarkably entrepreneurial and resourceful" in ways it couldn't be under the corrupt, ossified system in their homeland. One of these émigrés is Serge Jean-Louis, a thriving Haitian-American construction contractor in South Florida. "I'm eager to fly back and help rebuild Haiti," he told TIME shortly after the quake. And chances are, he'll surpass Haiti's dismal standards and help rebuild more to the modern specs of Chile...
Crazed with laughter and the bitter cold, my roommate and I literally exploded into Asmara, a discreetly nestled Central Square Eritrean eatery, hustling mostly because my feet had frozen (flip-flops offer little in the way of podiatric protection) and, more importantly, because our palates were eager for an escape from dining hall fare...