College

I remember waking up the morning I was to move into Tripp at the University of Wisconsin - Madison and balling profusely. I called my then boyfriend and insisted he tell me I was going to love it and be successful and "who cares if they drink you'll love it anyways." I remember shaking in the car on the way there and being nervous and feeling like a social two-year-old when I met all the girls in the hall. I remember my first night being lonely and afraid even though my best friend stayed the night with me. I remember being so unsure.

Tomorrow I will wake up and I will get ready for my graduation from the University of Wisconsin - Madison. I will ball profusely because I do not want to leave this terrific institution. I will talk to my mom who will tell me that the best is yet to come and I will love it and be successful. I will shake on the way up to the podium all while thinking "good Lord please don't let me trip." I will be nervous and feel like a social two-year-old among my peers and professors from the School of Human Ecology because it's certain that I will vomit everywhere if I so much as open my mouth. I will go to dinner with my friends tomorrow night and have celebratory drinks with them. I will be so certain in my decision to go to this University and I will be sure of my future elsewhere.

My three years here have been the best and most difficult years of my life. I've gone through moments of happiness and moments of despair (not what you think - I'm talking about the Rosebowl. All three of them). I've celebrated Halloween and Mifflin like the champs we were and I've studied all night for my Cognitive Psych exam at Steenbock. I've gone to bars underage (yes, sorry family), and I've had my wallet stolen three too many times. I've read and read and read about history and babies and have written about history and babies. I've sucked up to professors and cried my way to better grades. I've held a trash can for a friend while they puked in it for hours. I've run barefoot down state street and called an ambulance for my best friend (who refused to keep her Harry Potter scar regardless of my advising). I've rekindled relationships with old friends. I've made friends with a ginger. Also friends with someone who doesn't like to wear clothes ever. Also friends with someone I blatantly and truthfully called an asshole (sorry, Michael). I've studied abroad. I've gone home for summer. I've gone home for the weekend, a night. And every time, EVERY TIME I cannot wait to get back to Madison. I've perspired my way up Bascom Hill and have slid on the ice down it (one time, I swear). I've drank beer at the terrace and eaten way too much Babcock Dairy ice cream than I'm willing to admit. Also Babcock chocolate milk. They ship that stuff, right? I've written a thirty page thesis. I've studied children of incarcerated parents. I've gone out for a friends engagement. I've worked about seven different jobs. I've gone to football games and hockey games. I've hugged Bucky Badger.

I've had the time of my life here, and I thank all of you for being a part of it.