Word: fm
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...wish this had been the scene of an actual crime and I had been a jewel thief racing to flee the cops. Instead, my loot was the 24 sheets of film necessary to print an FM issue last spring, the scene was Charles River Printing, and my not-so-awake accomplice was FM Co-Chair Liz Maher. It was the aftermath of something far more criminal than a robbery or homicide: It was a typical FM production night, which meant it was the following day—and near the end of a seemingly eternal abyss of time...
Little did I know that it would be literally every now and every then. I have never left the windowless Crimson basement and seen darkness after a “night” of FM production. I have enjoyed many waffles and orange juices with Liz and FM Co-Chair Rachel Dry on Wednesday mornings in Adams Dining Hall. And, last semester, I fell asleep in my 9 a.m. Russian class so consistently on Wednesday mornings that it prompted my concerned teacher to ask, “Anya, what is wrong?” When I mumbled something in response...
...Proofing FM has not exactly made answering that question easy.As FM proofer, you have to be the enforcer of the minutiae of Crimson form. I have probably removed upward of 1,000 serial commas from the magazine, changed a hundred “freshmen” to “first-years” and insisted dozens of times over that even if we’re talking about University President Lawrence H. Summers’ eating habits or love life, we can’t just refer to him as “Larry.” Starting...
Then there are those undignified moments that only the extreme sleep-deprivation of proofing FM for 16 hours can produce. Over the past year I have fallen asleep on the mysteriously stained couch in the basement design office, the white “leather” couch in the editorial office, and the conference room couch overflowing with yellow foam stuffing. Several times I’ve been awakened by the cleaning lady picking up the garbage strewn around me. My academic low points were definitely those sprints to my 9 a.m. Russian class in the same clothes I wore...
...looking back over my time at The Crimson, and proofing FM, I didn’t want to let my love for the paper gloss over the dirty details of the past three years at 14 Plympton St. But I think those harrowing what-if-I-just-snuck-out-the-side-door FM proofer moments are exactly the root of my sentimentality about The Crimson. Those moments of extreme sacrifice are a main component of what has made The Crimson worth the slip in my grades and worth not seeing my roommates for days at a time. While...