Next Monday we’ll have our Class of 2012 commencement ceremony, which will be held outdoors. Our families will be here to see us walk the stage, smartly dressed in our graduation gowns, and receive our bachelor’s degree that we’ve worked four excruciatingly stressful years for.
Are seniors concerned about Monday’s weather? May-haps. A little bit, kind of.
This Friday will be Block Party, which will be held outdoors. An entire street will be blocked off from morning till evening, beer trucks will be brought in, music will be played loudly enough, and everyone will drink and be merry. Everyone will be intoxicated, from the booze, obviously, but also from the high of knowing you’ve survived another stressful Grinnellian academic year, and now all you and your wonderful friends need to think about is how much more you can/should drink.
Are seniors concerned about Friday’s weather? OH GOD YES, SO CONCERNED, you best believe it!
And this is typical Grinnellian behavior. All-day drinking parties are just more important. Obviously.
I mean, we already did the work. We know we’re graduating. A ceremony is fine, but a party is better!
(Drink responsibly la, no problem one.)
It’s just past dinnertime, I just got back from the dining hall, am stuffed.
Here I am, sitting on my bed, mindlessly surfing the net, listening to two of my friends talking about skirts in the next room. And suddenly it hit me, this will never happen again.
Three more days of school, and this routine of going back to my apartment after classes, chilling on my bed with my computer, loudly complaining about schoolwork to my friends in different rooms within the apartment, all these will end, forever.
I don’t know how my life will be when we all leave Grinnell. They are the only people in the world who understand me this well now.
Two weeks of school left. 13 days till my brother and sister arrive in Grinnell, and 15 days till they see me walk the stage during Commencement and finally get my bachelor’s degree.
How do I feel about this? I don’t know.
I am ready to move on to the next phase in life, cos college is starting to seem so old — four years of classes and homework, of weekday sleepless nights and weekend drunkenness, four years of complaining about professors and papers, of waking up on Sunday mornings feeling like a mess — four years of these is enough.
But I will miss this place. I don’t know how to explain the attachment I’ve developed to Grinnell — the college, the town, the culture.
Oh the Grinnell culture. So intellectual, so politically correct, so big on social justice, but even bigger on substance use. Naked. High. Happy to experiment. Safe bubble. All sexualities accepted.
I am, of course, sugar-dusting what Grinnell is, but I can’t help it, I’m two weeks from leaving this small place, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.
Graduation and leaving in two weeks seems so inopportune, because there are still relationships issues that should take more time to be dealt with.
Leaving Grinnell for the “real world” will be like leaving home for the unknown, ironically, much like the first time I left Malaysia to come to Grinnell.
This week, school life is a dull shade of grey.
I have a 15-page research paper that I need to churn out by this Saturday, and I haven’t written a thing.
I’ve read 11 books that I checked out from the library, I’ve 14 journal articles read and highlighted, and I’ve a 3-page Word document full of ideas and quotes, but it’s information overload right now. I have all these information, I’ve been staring at my computer for days, and I still can’t synthesize all that into a thesis.
To top it all off, I think I’m getting sick. Ache behind eyes, body pains, hotness.
You’d think that 4 years of writing 15-20 page papers would make this easy. Not true at all.
I just want to spend my days listening to Radiohead.
I’m gunna create traditions, as many as reasonably possible. For my family, for my future family, for my friends, for wherever I will call Home.
Traditions, I realize, are the center in your life, that thing that, in times of turmoil and confusion, makes you feel like the world makes sense once more. And at a time when everything around you suddenly feels so overwhelmingly foreign and strange, traditions make it feel like home again, even if just for a fleeting, precious moment.
I’m gunna create traditions, for all the Homes I’m gonna make.