It is spring, that time of spring when the thawing melting growing smell infiltrates all the houses and buildings and chases away the dank stuffiness of winter. In elementary schools everywhere this smell is making children go stir-crazy with energy and the teachers can barely keep them in their chairs anymore. As adults at college we are more restrained, but the fresh smell and the energy and the excitement of being almost-graduated permeates everything we do all the same.

I am sitting at my desk in '34 House with the window open, letting the sun and breeze thrill me. I am listening to Jethro Tull and playing Magic Inlay, a puzzle game filled with shiny jewels and gratuitous fantasy creatures which is our most recent Yahoo game procrastination obsession. It is a one-hour/thirty-day trial, and I have been savoring it while it lasts. The last of my work at Colgate is very nearly done, and I can play games almost guilt-free.

Through the window I begin to hear commotion downstairs, but I pointedly ignore it. A gathering to honor the seniors in one of my student groups had been planned for tonight. I am not going, and nothing could make me happier. They had topped off a year of being rude to me, harassing me and my co-leader, talking about us and undermining us behind our backs, and generally getting nothing done, by then failing to announce my roommate as one of the seniors to be recognized at the event. Disgusted, we had agreed instead to go to the Olive Garden and celebrate ourselves and our accomplishments that way. And with that plan suddenly something that I had been very grumpy and bitter about had turned into something I was excited about and looking forward to. The student group could whisper whatever nonsense they wanted. So what? I got to have an outing with my roommate.

The commotion becomes louder -- tables are being moved, the catered food is being brought in, probably decorations are being arranged. I don't know who has taken it upon themselves to set up this event, and I don't care. This thankless group is symbolic of everything about Colgate that I want to leave behind -- and Maggie is symbolic of everything I want to take with me. The curb outside my window is beginning to be full of parked cars. People are here; it is almost time to make our escape. We wish Jason good luck with the event, which he has bravely chosen to attend after all, and make our way out of the rapidly filling parking lot by driving over the lawn. Goodbye '34 House, goodbye college with all your trivialities and petty student groups. Here's to overcoming all that -- here's to four years of roommates living in perfect harmony, here's to doing our best despite everything, here's to loving our time here but being ready to move on, here's to driving an hour just for infinite breadsticks and Italian sodas, one last time over the familiar hills and curves in the road.

(about song posts)

yay song posts!

and strangely enough, not more than ten minutes ago, i finished an email about how amazing colgate was. and it's not the place, it's the people.

at the risk of sounding downright depressed (though i have to say that this post is as uplifting as it is melancholy), i wish i had been more prepared to move on and leave college behind. i feel that way i wouldn't be going through this early mid-life crisis stage (but i should probably get to work on my own blog and not vent out on yours) :) good writing