TODAY I graduate college. I am not quite sure how I feel about it. This post serves to explore how I have or have not fulfilled my soon-to-be Alma Matter's motto.
Four and a half years ago I packed up my clothes, books, hopes and dreams and drove 3.7 miles from my parents' house to my College dormitory.
I remember Brienne Roney sitting on the floor unpacking her things, and realizing we'd be spending every waking and sleeping moment together in a 5 x 5 room.
(ok she wasn't really sitting like this. that would have been creepy.)
I quickly learned that Brie was legally blind, vegetarian, and one of the only people who could share my angst at the question:
"Where are you from?"
"Wait. You...born and raised? In Provo? And you live in the dorms?"
(I'M TRYING TO BE INDEPENDENT AND HAVE AN AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCE HERE!)
i love this girl.
I learned as a freshmen way too much about insecurity, something the protection of high school in happy valley had somehow saved me from. I admit to part of it being my fault, as in a flurry of confusion, or discovering myself, or who knows what, I dyed my golden locks brown.
Unfortunately my desires to be an exotic brunette ended in a year of not having to try too hard to avoid hormonal freshman boys.
I learned as a freshman how to party hop like a boss. I'm still not sure how we physically attended so many dance parties in such a short period of time, but back in the day those were some goooood times. From A51 to The Lounge to The Glenhood, we definitely did our time on the dance floor.
Sophomore year I learned how to hablar espanol cada dia con mi cumpaniero de cuarto Betsita. After two fuegos en la cocina, Betsy made a habit of cocinando con un jar full of agua by her side.
Junior year meant LONDON...Four months I am quite positive will forever remain the happiest time of my life.
No such thing.
I learned in London about Shakespeare, Magnums, and The Woman Question. Or wait...what did that mean again?
I learned that the sightseeing (scaffolding) and traveling were fabulous, the best times were the hours spent in room 3 with fourteen girls on bunk beds. Ohhh how I love you guys.
I also learned in London I'd been accepted to BYU's advertising program.
Finally, I want to be in college!
Finally, weird people like me!
Weird people who make me laugh and get my jokes!
Weird people who opened my mind to so many things and became my bffffs!
Senior year I learned about a little place called the Candy Shoppe. I am fairly certain I have raved too much about the CS, so I will try to keep it short.
Senior year was Creative Track year. I learned that the hardest years can be the best. Also that sometimes it's good to spend all your free time in a pile on the world's most comfortable couch with five of your best friends talking about ads or Jack Shephard or politics or men.
(where is mj?)
Supersenior year may be too close for me to know what I really learned from it. Except that I am so grateful I somehow stumbled into living with these girls.
And that worry is much harder on your happiness than failure.
As I embark across the threshold of graduation, I wonder who in the world I will go forth to serve.
Leo Burnett? Ogilvy? DDB? GAP? Seriously, nothing sounds so good right now as being a brainless employee who goes to the pool after my five hour shift.
Likely I will serve an advertising agency in some big city in the continental United States. Likely in that city I will serve in some church calling, maybe trying to reactivate ladies in the relief society again or planning last minute games of catch phrase for FHE.
While I would really rather serve a man dinner after a long day at his sexy job, I fear that option is outside my control...
Deciding who/what/where to serve is probably the most overwhelming thing I've ever had to choose. How are we supposed to leave the safety and happiness of Provo Neverland? Where friends gather like weeds and men flow like punch?
There have been plenty of stresses and disappointments over the last few years. But it's strange how you somehow forget about those when you're ready to leave.
I have no idea where I will be in a few of months. It's stressful and frustrating and overwhelming to have to say that. But somehow I have this weird feeling like things are going to work out. Probably because I'm such an optimist.
I love you cougartown. Thank you for loving me back.