So that’s it? I’m done with college. It was such a strange feeling walking out of that building for the last time. I walked slowly and was sure to pay attention to everything. Why am I so nostalgic? Despite my best efforts, the reality of the situation is that I was walking down an empty dirty hallway behind a janitor on a crappy winter day, oh! the drama I construct in my mind. The majority of my memories of that particular building, the business college, relate to my wonderful girlfriend, which is probably the reason for my heightened sense of nostalgia. The worst part about the whole thing – no music, no hug, no congratulations, no closing credits, and I didn’t click my heels while jumping off a flight of stairs. I wasn’t even the hero of anything. Over the past five and a half years (too long, I know) this place has changed me completely. I am the same spark, but not the same fire, and I’m glad this end has come so discreetly. Now, after I quietly excuse myself from this campus, I know I want the next big phase of my life to end complete with fireworks and three forks.
The best part about the end of this huge commitment is the large amount of free time that will soon tempt me to watch TV and click “Stumble!”. In spite of these temptations, I plan to finally read the books I want to read, pick up my long lost best friend and former soul mate – my guitar, work out a little more, and own the world.
Categories: college · the end · time
Oh the things I’ve said when I drink too much! Luckily, I am very close to the end of my five and a half year college career and will no longer be exposed to the kind of pressure that causes me to drink in such excess; at least not as often. After my most recent slip up, I decided to reflect on the somewhat comical and often embarrassing things that spew from my uninhibited mouth on various weekend nights over the course of my life in this four mile radius college campus that makes up my world.
The most recent, and most embarrassing by far, has to be my exceedingly un-slick L-word drop on my girlfriend of (officially) three months. After a review of the number of X’s on the back of last night’s permanent marker slashed pub crawl T-shirt, I have concluded that the fifteen drinks made me do it. “Do you remember what you said to me last night?” was her question this morning. “No”, I said. “Good”, was her answer. Of course, like any semi-insecure guy, I played the “tell me what I said” game, but I knew, and boy did I wish I didn’t.
Now, if I can manage to remember some others:
1. “GET THAT OUTA THERE!” – to a girl I wanted to get with that told me she was on her period.
2. “I CAN GET ANY GIRL I WANT!” – very loudly in the middle of a party after hitting on some guys gf and almost getting knocked around. I followed this one up by calling my hefty female friend a “fat bitch”.
3. “I have an idea! How about you make out with him and I make out with you, then we switch!” – this actually worked.
4. These are too hard to remember. Especially when you have to hear about them second hand the next day.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: drunk
