About Annabelle Woodward

Posts by Annabelle Woodward:

Taylor-Swift-Country-(Jie-En-Lee

redneck heartbreak

in defense of swift and the grand ole genre

One warm afternoon in the fall of 2008, my best friend Alex and I lay spread-eagle on the trampoline in her backyard and stared up at the cloudless Virginia sky. Taylor Swift’s “Hey Steven” played from the tinny speakers of my LG Chocolate Slide. We were two starry-eyed, self-involved preteen girls coming of age in…

Taylor-Swift-and-Feminism-(Harim-Choi)

white horse woes

excavating Taylor Swift’s priviledge

        If I had bought into Taylor Swift’s rhetoric, the one that pervades “You Belong With Me” and “Love Story,” I may not have hemmed my skirts so short. I would probably still think that if I sat around waiting long enough, some douchey high school senior with a bunch of roses would save me…

Rogue Island (Seo Jung Shin)

rogue island

a short history of piracy in the smallest state in the union

On May 4, 1776, Rhode Island cemented itself as a colony of contrarians. A full two months before the official signing of the Declaration, the few inhabitants of this tiny scrap of land in a yet-unformed nation declared independence from the British crown. Though 12 other colonies were soon to follow, Rhode Island was notorious…

Fall of the Amazing Human Lobster (Harim Choi)

the fall of the amazing human lobster

“it’s fine, it’s fine”

Art Room 004 smelled. It had two distinct funks: weed and Febreze Air Effects  (strawberry and fig), sprayed indiscriminately by Noah in the hopes of covering up the smell of weed. It was 8:15 a.m. and the air already stank of summer fruits. Sam, second only to Noah as the highest and least productive art student in…

Conversations-With-Myself-(Diana-Hong)-

Conversations with Myself

55 Days and Counting

[1] a couple minutes to 5 a.m. you find yourself staring blankly at your laptop screen. 55 days and counting. you can count the number of times you’ve called home singlehandedly. you haven’t spent enough time with snippets and trickles of thoughts in your head. you hang out with them wrapped around your neck, hovering…