What I observed

So this is how my columnist career ends, not with a bang, but with a “best of” article relying solely on the success of my previous work — a typical move for an artist who knows they have already peaked.

I joined The Observer to do what I do best: be a follower. Two of my friends were going to the beginning-of-year meeting, and like the sheep I am, I joined them. But while they didn’t last two weeks, I’ve remained, weathering several editors’ regimes, the great writer’s block of 2025 and the rebrand of Viewpoint into Opinion that turned me into a nomad with no home for my articles. But it’s finally time for this “oracle of The Observer” to sign off once and for all and join Warren Buffett in retirement.  

Before joining The Observer, I wrote obnoxiously long Yelp reviews. This was extremely rewarding. I earned the distinguished honor of being a Yelp Elite Squad member, a clear mark of superiority that obviously made me immensely popular in high school. Unfortunately, my reviews kept getting taken down because they were “unrelated to the business I was reviewing.” I’ve appreciated the permanence and lack of censorship I’ve been accorded under The Observer. 

To the seven people who do more than skim my articles — thank you! I genuinely appreciate it. For you, I have several updates that may or may not be of interest. For everyone else, I think you can tell I don’t write about anything too deep; you should be able to catch up to speed real quick. 

Updates:

• PETA was quick to respond to my article about goldfish ownership with several concerns. Yet despite heeding none of their advice, my goldfish is still alive! Having survived winter break, tax season and that week in February when my roommate and I each assumed the other one had been feeding him, I am convinced our fish is invincible. I love our fish very much and am so glad he is part of my life. On an unrelated note, if anyone wants a goldfish starting May 15 or sooner, contact me. 
• After losing the Holy Half by 22 minutes, no one believed that stopping to spit on Caroll Hall had cost me the race. 
• The serial double daters never did go on another double date. Applebee’s stock is down 12% year to date. I believe our failures are responsible for this.  
• I still have not found the labeler. After reading my article, one helpful detective alerted me that she checked every room in Farley Hall and found no trace of the labeler. Though potentially an invasion of privacy, this certainly narrows the search. However, some readers noted something interesting about the original article.
• The astronomy professor read my article “The waning moon does not exist” and attempted to expose it as a fallacy in his Descriptive Astronomy lecture. Still, no one has been able to produce a waning moon IRL, so I rest my case. 
• Two weeks after writing about how much I adore my 2003 Honda Civic, my friend left its sunroof open for two weeks during which South Bend received significant rainfall. This may have been karma for not telling my friends I brought a car to campus, and then tricking them into thinking I stole a stranger’s car. 
• Feb. 26 came and went without a single Fighting Irish fan celebrating Notre Dame conception day. I’ve been debating combining Notre Dame conception day with ND Day to create one epic day of Irish fan base mega-mobilization. This may be necessary for the first few years until this holiday becomes canon. 

Progress report:

• One new person addicted to Minesweeper
• One fourth grader had a problem with my take on chess not being a sport
• Two Notre Dame employees who appreciated my love of the dining hall, as opposed to the other entitled students who complain too much
• Five breakups facilitated
• Zero chipmunks have been killed since the last incident
• Zero Fall 2025 predictions come true
• Zero appearances on The Observer’s “Best of the Week”

The data doesn’t lie. Such progress is an inspiring testament to the power of the pen. But I would like to take a moment to appreciate my article ideas that never saw the light of day and probably shouldn’t have: 

• Why Notre Dame needs to implement mutual assured destruction 
• I participated in the Fisher Regatta, and all I got was swimmer‘s ear 
• Be the change, boycott Bookstore Basketball 
• Walk the Walk Week — ableist? 
• Notre Dame is the college equivalent of Oklahoma City
• Is Campus Ministry too big to fail?
• They dug him up! Notre Dame unearths Knute Rockne’s grave
• Why Lyndon B. Johnson would have lived on North Quad
• Class of 2030 admitted, here are their stats (spoiler — 90% from the suburbs of Chicago)
• ND Day is the soft underbelly of Keynesian economics

Though generally averse to introspection or reflection, I’ve managed to take away a few lessons from my tenure at the Observer:

• Don’t use people’s full names. I am deeply sorry to the victim for whom, when you search “[Victim’s Name] Notre Dame,” the quote “Hammocking is akin to being on drugs and in the womb all at once” appears under the fourth link. Despite asking nicely, The Observer refuses to remove their last name from the article. Note: despite this digital footprint, the victim still secured a job offer (an impressive feat in this job market). 
• The Glynn Family Honors Program is harder to take down than I anticipated.
• Students are hesitant to participate in my amazing opportunity to make money primarily by recruiting new members who pay upfront fees for the chance to receive returns, which are funded by subsequent investors rather than profit. If you are interested, message “PYRAMID” to aabplana@nd.edu.
• The first idea for an article is not the best idea, but it is the idea I will use because I don’t start my articles until far too late and don’t have time to think of something better. Still, I’ve never managed to turn in a single article on time, but this hasn’t seemed to matter.
• No matter how many times I try to sneak in an Oxford comma, The Observer editors are too alert (dare I say observant) for my tricks. 
• Insert something cheesy about taking time to be creative and yada yada yada that I would like to mention but would rather not write about, as not to mess with my plan to employ ironic detachment to help get me through graduation. 

That’s all she wrote.