If you watched the Academy Awards this week, you probably noticed at least two things.

First, that kid from Room is the cutest child in the entire universe and anyone who says otherwise is DEAD WRONG. Second, Spotlight won Best Picture! Since investigative journalism is having such a victorious week, I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon and talk a little bit about journalism right here at my own university. Princeton has a couple of well-known publications, such as The Daily Princetonian and The Nassau Weekly, but there are also opportunities to learn about journalism inside the classroom, through courses run by the Council of the Humanities. These classes are usually weekly three-hour seminars that meet in the adorable Joseph Henry House, a small butter-yellow building that was the residence of Professor Henry in the early 19th century. The Henry House is perhaps the building on campus that is most dear to me. I am in love with its creaky stairs, its sunny porch, and the little bowl of Jolly Ranchers that is always sitting in the lobby. And of course, I love it because it was home to some of the best classes I've taken at Princeton. The first journalism class I took was Audio Journalism. It was taught by Steve Drummond, who is currently the head of NPR Ed. I had never tried radio production before, but through this class I became completely obsessed with it. Radio is an extremely effective medium for telling emotionally arresting stories. The human voice creates an automatic intimate connection between reporter and listener. It's also really fun to record your voice under a blanket in your room and then have your roommate walk in and think you're a crazy person. Professor Drummond taught us about how important concise writing is to radio, and I think my writing even for non-radio purposes has been better ever since. Plus, I produced some pieces in this class that I'll always look back fondly on. My friend Amy and I recorded a piece at a Princeton football game in which I got to make a lot of cheesy sports jokes. Honestly, someone should have stopped me. The next class I took was Creative Nonfiction, taught by the man who essentially invented the genre, John McPhee. This class is kind of legendary at Princeton; a whole host of acclaimed journalists, novelists, and editors have come out of it. The highlights of the course are the biweekly one-on-one meetings in which Professor McPhee goes through every sentence in your piece with you. There is no one who makes you think carefully about every single word you choose quite like Professor McPhee does. Professor McPhee also invites a lot of great guests to the class. In my year, the architect who designed the Vietnam War Memorial, Maya Lin, spoke to us about her new project. We all wrote pieces about the project, and Professor McPhee sent them to Maya Lin so she could read them! He also excerpted quotes from a few of the pieces in his forward for her new book, "Topologies," which was published by Rizzoli earlier this year. (I highly recommend checking out the book, though not for the purpose of reading my contribution, which amounts to the grand total of ten sentences.) Most recently, I took Magazine Writing with Jennifer Kahn, who has written feature pieces for the New Yorker and the New York Times Magazine, among other publications. We spent the majority of this course working on long feature pieces that we submitted at the end of the semester. I wrote about the recent surge in false bomb threats called into schools. I was able to interview the Princeton Public Schools superintendent, a New Jersey state senator, and a national school security expert, which was an amazing, albeit nerve-racking, experience. Additionally, throughout the semester, we were visited by several renowned magazine writers whose pieces we had read. This class was a blast not only because of the interesting subject matter, but also because Professor Kahn is incredibly funny and sweet. Our whole class became great friends, and we ended the semester with a party on that porch that I love so much. (Fun fact: Fellow blogger Aliisa was in this class as well!) There are so many other wonderful journalism seminars that I didn't have space to write about here, but you can find out more about the journalism program at Princeton on the Council of the Humanities website. And you can read some really great pieces by my former professors, who are all infinitely better writers than I, right here, here, and here.

At college, life often revolves around books, friends, coffee and our favorite treats! The good news is that Princeton has the perfect eclectic café that meets all of these needs in one place. If you're a fan of fair trade coffees, specialty beverages and homemade treats--and you're wondering where you will find that favorite study spot--I think that we have just the place for you. Chances are that you will fit right in with Princeton students' collective love of Small World Coffee, a hip coffee shop just outside of Princeton’s gates on Witherspoon Street! Small World is where so many of us students go to study, chat and write. I love that it lets us get into the “real world” without going very far from campus; there’s something so refreshing about getting off campus and doing homework in a place that’s full of not only students, but also families, businesspersons and friends. Small World also has neat events like open mic nights on Mondays and periodic art shows. And let’s not neglect the fact that their menu is great too. They sell not only all of the warm and cold beverages to fuel you through any season, but there’s also delicious oatmeal bowls, fresh-baked granola, cookies and the like! You'll likely find yourself as excited about Small World as most of us students are. If so, Witherspoon Café in the Frist Campus Center on campus also sells Small World coffee. So, on those mornings that you are craving your favorite drink on your way to class but don’t have time to get to Nassau Street, you don’t have to miss out! One important thing to know about Small World is that they only take cash, so plan accordingly if you are visiting campus this spring and want to enjoy a treat at one of my favorite cafés!

If architectures had seasons, the clean crisp lines of modernism would be emphasized by the sobriety and sparseness of the winter. The budding confidence of the Renaissance finds itself in the spring; the boisterous confidence of the summer is Baroque. For the transition between the hot celebration of life and the cool retreat to come, for autumn in other words, its architecture is Gothic. Though the gargoyles of Princeton have overlooked no monks, nor have the crenellations been posts for defensive forces, collegiate Gothic shares something of an older Gothic spirit. There is a certain chaste sensuality to the stone that offers itself to the wandering hand, though no warmth will be reciprocated. In a similar way, autumnal trees stripped of foliage appear austere, but also gain a new sensual body due to its shape, which is hidden in the color and heat of spring.

Earlier this year, I wrote a blog post about my art history thesis on Meteora. What I didn't tell you is that my art thesis was only ONE of TWO THESES that I wrote this year. That means double the page count, double the all-nighters, and quadruple the amount of mac 'n' cheese I allowed myself to buy during said all-nighters.

Luckily, I didn't have to do any library research or citations for this second thesis, because it was all made up! I wrote a fiction thesis in order to get a certificate in creative writing. It's actually a little crazy that I've never written about the creative writing department on this site before, because I think it is one of the strongest programs of study at Princeton. Its strength is mostly due to the program's incredible faculty. I took classes with Jeffrey Eugenides, Joyce Carol Oates, Susan Choi, Maaza Mengiste, and Hanna Pylväinen, and my thesis adviser was the immensely talented A.M. Homes.

At other schools, you have to be enrolled in an master's of fine arts program to get access to writers like that, but Princeton's creative writing department is specifically designed for the undergrads. At the end of junior year, students who have completed the proper prerequisites can apply to write a creative thesis. If selected, students are individually matched with faculty members who guide them through the process and give suggestions for edits along the way. The thesis students also get to give two public readings of their material: one at Labyrinth Books on Nassau Street, in a room that has hosted all sorts of famous authors and intellectuals, and one at Prospect House, Princeton's Fanciest Building (trademark pending).

This year, the Prospect House reading was followed by a reception at which at least four kinds of gourmet meatballs were served. Gourmet meatballs! Writing a thesis was worth it, just for those. Students often continue to edit their creative theses post-grad, in the hopes of one day publishing that material. But it's not like anyone's thesis has ever become a best-selling novel or anything ... The creative writing teachers that I've had at Princeton have taught me how to write better, and how to read better. I recommend taking a creative writing class even if you're not interested in writing fiction, because you'll learn a new way of looking at books. And who knows? Maybe you'll get hooked, and four years from now it will be YOU reading from your thesis at Prospect House and eating piles and piles of meatballs.