Browse through the first page to see if anyone is professing his/her love to your oblivious “Hunky Australian philosopher” blockmate. A more interesting aspect of the site is the posted stats, collected from the submission demographics. Of all four classes, seniors are submitting the most sightings, perhaps in attempts to take advantage of the last opportunities to get to know the Serena van der Woodsen lookalike or the guy stuffing his face with pita chips at brain break. But most surprisingly, sightings occur more frequently at the 12 Houses than anywhere else on campus. Looks like more than a few people are too shy to chat even in the dining hall.

Read Noice’s favorite declarations of unrequited love after the jump.

Behind the counter at Lamont Cafe: “I saw you mixing it up at Lamont Cafe…I melted when you asked me ‘may I help you?’… I like a little milk in my coffee.”

On DeWolfe Street: “I saw you… walking with another boy while I was on a run. I ran as fast as I could directly in front of you both and I knew I looked good.”

Cabot Science Library: “I saw you…filling out transfer applications. Iowa State? Really?”

The cheese table: “I saw you… next to the cheese plate. Looking all hungry because you forgot dinner. What’s your name, delicate? Is it Yvonne? My little croissant. My little cheese.”

Lamont: “I saw you… And thought you were cute until…I realized you were watching Jersey Shore instead of working on your paper. In the first floor reading room no less! Get it together!”

Mather dining hall: “I saw you…reading Sex and the Ivy before frantically clicking a new tab as I walked by.”

Faculty Club: “I saw you… going directly from the tri-house formal back to Lamont to work on CS50.”

How appropriate.

Follow these tips for '80s flair and you can be a boy toy too. Minus the making out with Britney thing.

Hand it to Leverett to make gyrating in a throng of sweaty freshmen a serious, sartorial affair. Advertised as one of the biggest Lev events of the year, HoCo co-chair Isaac Martinez ’10 advises people to dress up for its annual ’80s Dance and “expect a lot more enthusiasm.” Those looking to make a noice neon impression this weekend should take note of the following fashion pointers that’ll even make Madonna in her “Like a Virgin”-and-pointy-breasts era salivate.

Sweatbands. Remember all those Richard Simmons workout videos from two decades ago? It was tacky, it was tasteless, and it serves as the perfect example of how your outfit should center around your hair accessory on Saturday night, not to mention that it should prove useful for wiping off the sweat you will rub off from the guy in the pink tights, leading us to…
Bright spandex. And by bright, we mean fucking radioactive rainbow. Bolder is better. We don’t know if we can find anymore alliterative phrases to drive this point deeper into the ground. Oh, wait–glaring garishness.
Hair that’s been battered and bullied. Can’t go wrong with teasing the crap out of your hair. Unless, of course, you’re Carrot-Top, in which case, touché–you’ve killed two birds with one stone.
Big glasses. Hey, you’re at Harvard; shouldn’t be too hard to find a pair lying around.
Consider a celebrity costume. Michael Jackson, pre-child molestation allegations. Madonna, pre-pre-divorce. Cyndi Lauper, pre…. well, in general. Go all out, and you might just find the Harry to your Sally on the dance floor.
Anything from American Apparel. Extra brownie points to whoever dons only the unitard.
Refer to the hipster sitting right next to you in lecture. Enough said.

Also, props goes out to Lev HoCo for a music video remake of the ’80s hit Jessie’s Girl, complete with procreating bunny. See the video and event details after the jump.

Jessie’s Girl – 80s Dance from Leverett House on Vimeo.

The ’80s Dance
WHEN: Saturday, October 24
WHERE: Leverett dining hall
TIME: 10pm-2am
ADMISSION: $5 until 11; $7 after

Photo courtesy of Bleacher Nation.

FAS webmail’s 100 MB limit notwithstanding, there’s always room in our hearts for this kind of collective creativity.

On Mon, Sep 28, 2009 at 9:44 AM, Manjari Chatterjee Miller wrote:
I miss you, yes I really do.

What’s worse, I’m late for classes too.
Please come back, I hate the empty wall
I check it daily, a hundred times in all.
I lost my watch, my cell phone’s crap
The whiteness is just a yawning gap.
If I’m late to pick up Neer, I pay a fine
And now you know the reason for this whine. COME BACK!

On 9/28/2009 10:42 AM, Jack Kearney wrote:

I second this well-voiced sentiment
And, without causing resentment,
I wish to add my own to the tale -
I did not know Harvard wanted its students to fail!
How am I supposed to make it to midterms or to class
Without the clock to get me off my…previous engagement so that I might
arrive in time for the subsequent one.

On Mon, 28 Sep 2009, Lauren Brandt wrote:

Who knew a simple missing clock
Could such wit and verve inspire!
Not that I intend to mock
But merely that I do admire
the talent and gift of each new muse
and hope their efforts to amuse
do not distract from other things.
Seniors, beware – it’s not yet spring!

On Mon, Sep 28, 2009 at 11:18 AM, Jeff Miller wrote:

Get to work, don’t waste your life
(Especially, my procrastinating wife)
Of if you want to keep on mopin’
At least don’t do it on Lev Open!

Jeff

On Mon, Sep 28, 2009 at 11:36 AM, J. Michal wrote:
gosh, all this rhyming on a monday morning is making me dizzy

On Mon, Sep 28, 2009 at 11:39 AM, Joanna Marie Zimmerman wrote:
yeah, people must not be all that busy…

Cute. Noice loves it… er …fo’ shizzy?

Who knew an email could be this exciting and dramatic?

We at Noice are unabashed gossips, in the best sense of the word. We like checkin’ Harvard out, talking about who’s doing what, where, and to whom.  So when this vitriolic thread went over Quincy open list earlier today — with indignation nearly bursting out of its cyberseams — the drama could not escape our attention.

So what set off the little tiff? (Okay, not so little, it’s actually pretty long.) Just the Peer Health Exchange spamming Quincy House, as well as every other list, about its “FREE Pancake Breakfast” this morning.

Sounds innocuous, right? I mean, who actually reads stuff that gets pubbed on House lists? But, my oh my, the responses that ensued…

Sean Robinson, Quincy House ’09, reply-all’d to Peer Health Exchange’s original pub email with a five-paragraph diatribe, writing, “Must this tantrum over hot breakfast go on?”

Considering the times we live in, it is no surprise that even an elite institution like Harvard is forced to cut back a little bit, and so much each department do its share. [...]

I don’t understand the energy devoted to complaining over lack of week-long hot breakfast when there are so many greater problems in the world.  You people are Harvard students, be mature and be willing to make sacrifices for the good of others, instead of behaving like the spoiled aristocrats the outside world perceives us to be.

Woah, there. “Spoiled aristocrats”? First, Noice is pretty sure that there are actually some of those at Harvard. But even for us Joe Schmoes, engaging in our favorite Harvard pastime — complaining — hardly warrants such an epithet.

So, too, thought Fatima Loeliger, the original emailer, who probably never expected a publicity email to even get opened get so much attention. Judging from her response, it seems she was a bit irked by what he said:

Sean,
Though I have never had the pleasure of meeting you in person, you seemed to have found it relevant to express your opinion to, not only myself, but the rest of the residents of Quincy house who will have to filter this self-aggrandizing email. Regardless of the purpose or social benefit of Peer Health Exchange and the good work they do, it ridiculous that pancakes hold such a controversial place in your life that they can illicit this response.

She went on to call Mr. Robinson “pompous enough to assume that we care to entertain your thoughts as we go about our day.” Ouch.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you have graduated last year and are no longer a student here. Congratulations on your achievement, but in the future please act accordingly and attempt to self-regulate your convictions for the sake of others. No one is amused.

At this point, Noice was cowering under its desk in fear lest Miss Loeliger also decided to turn around and give us a talking-to as well.

Of course, Mr. Robinson had to defend himself, saying that he was not hoping to single anyone out personally through his original email.

Her response, he said, “was not particularly nice, and I don’t appreciate being called something mean when I’m posting my thoughts on a house OPEN LIST.”

To which Fatima did what her mama told her as a young girl: simply walk away.

Continue to post on this issue if you so desire. I have said my peace and remain by my initial sentiments.

Uh, but not before coming back for another swipe:

Open list means that you are open for criticism when you shoot down innocuous promo emails, especially if you choose to communicate them in 5-paragraph form.

And that was that. Whew. Hope you enjoyed the show! xoxo, Noice-sip Girl.

hen entering Leverett’s dining hall after an exhausting day of class, even the hungriest student will notice the garishly colorful mural hanging at the head of the hall above the fireplace, a notorious work of art known among all Leverites.

In 1990, Leverett House Masters John and Judith Dowling commissioned painter Jerald Webster to compose the mural, entitled “Coltrane.” The modern piece—composed of abstract shapes and lines of vibrant and divergent colors—acts as a wild and unfortunate contrast to the beautiful Georgian-style dining hall. The painting supposedly depicts a bird’s-eye view of Harvard Yard, and pays homage to the influences of famous jazz musician John Coltrane, whose music Webster listened to while he painted the piece. Webster originally painted three separate murals to allow house residents to choose their favorite, but over the years, the selected mural quickly fell out of favor among Leverett’s denizens.

Perpetuated as a part of Leverett House lore, “The Turning of Coltrane” remains a legend passed down from old to new residents each year.The infamous mural was so hated in fact, that in 1998, a group of mischievous tutors and HoCo members snuck into the dining hall under the cover of night and turned the painting upside down, documenting their work through photos.  No one noticed the prank until Leverett’s previous Master, who also happened to be an art critic, visited.  Perpetuated as a part of Leverett House lore, “The Turning of Coltrane” remains a legend passed down from old to new residents each year.

The painting soon became immortalized in house t-shirt designs and continues to be a constant source of scandal.  Some students even claim they find the mural so unappetizing that they only sit with their back facing it while eating. Each year, Leverett’s Master offers students the opportunity to one-up the painting, but no one has attempted to improve the dining hall’s atmosphere until recently. Julia Rozier ‘10, a Biological Anthropology concentrator, approached House Masters Howard and Ann Georgi (better known as “Chief” and “Coach” respectively), proposing a “serene” replacement that “reflected the house.”

Chief explained that this was not the first time a student had approached him with an idea, but he was “surprised” that someone actually carried through with the plan. In a project that spanned approximately six weeks, Rozier worked from the ground up, creating a new mural called  “John W. Weeks Bridge in July” that would better reflect the house and its residents. Proclaiming Leverett as “the best house on campus,” Rozier was motivated by her love of the house, its staff, and its residents. “I wanted to give back to a community that has given so much to me,” she said.  As a small token of gratitude, Rozier added a small rabbit—Leverett House’s mascot—to the corner of her mural, paying homage to the house she’s called home for the majority of her time at Harvard.

With the help of Leverett House superintendent Paul Hegarty and a crew of co-workers, the first step in the new mural’s installation was making and sealing a canvas large enough to suit the space. “We had to actually stretch the canvas because they don’t sell canvases at that size, which took about two weeks,” Rozier said.

“I wanted people to remember that there is a wide world out there, beyond our safety.”Not only that, but feedback for Rozier’s work came in real-time, as Julia painted her mural in the dining hall and was able to receive direct comments from her peers. Inevitably, her original plan was influenced by viewers’ continuous opinions. Her product depicts the Charles River with Weeks Bridge as its focal point; the sun shines brightly and lush vegetation surrounds the scene, reminding library-bound and thesis-laden students of the beauty and natural wonder that is easy to forget. Rozier hopes to communicate a sense of “serenity and tranquility,” adding calm and peace to a hectic dining hall atmosphere.

Even though mass opinion still orbits around distaste for the previous mural, Rozier has no explicit standpoint against Webster’s work, saying that she was grateful to Webster for giving Leverett “something of interest” during its time as a part of the house.

As Rozier sees her plans become something concrete, she emphasizes what she hopes to achieve through a project that will affect the daily grind of her peers. After all, there is a good reason why she chose to paint Weeks Bridge with Boston in the horizon instead of another typical Harvard scene found in most house common rooms. “I wanted people to remember that there is a wide world out there, beyond our safety.”

Photos courtesy of Julia Rozier

Look for this feature in the October Issue of The Voice.

This piece is a part of Featurettes on Noice, in which writers submit personal essays and lengthier,  featuresque articles. Submit your guest Featurette today at harvardvoice@gmail.com.