While I normally attempt to write my very real and never-in-any-way-fabricated diaries on a daily basis, my life over spring break was a little too jam-packed with joy and fun to faithfully record my hourly reflections on aforementioned joy and fun. Of course, it was also filled with life-changing realizations. You know when Wile E. Coyote runs off a cliff, thinking he’s escaped but really he is just running in midair, but it ain’t no thang because he’s chill, until someone asks him about his future plans after college and then he realizes there is no solid ground beneath him so he falls for miles to his inevitable death? That was a lot like my spring break.
Along with the aforementioned joy and fun, it was also full of adults asking me if I was excited for my “last six weeks of college,” who were then forced to watch as I experienced my own version of cartoon death. The question causes me to immediately develop panic hiccups, a headache and a strong urge to throw up everywhere. A lot like being pregnant, or so I gather from “Friends” reruns.
Before I get started, I would like to address the primary question here: am I excited for my last 6 weeks at Vassar? Well, dear adults in my life, this is a tricky inquiry. Am I excited to leave all of my closest friends who I essentially consider to be my family for a life of uncertainty in an unknown location with absolutely no job security? I have been more excited for things in my life. However, am I excited to stop having to write papers about things that I only mostly understand? Actually, no, I’m pretty into papers. I do voluntarily write for this paper, after all. Am I excited to leave Hoth-keepsie, land of the never-ending winter? Yeah, that part is OK.
What I’m getting at is that Vassar is, for me, a wonderful place to be. That sentence both rhymed and was sentimental, and I am accepting applications from Disney for the rights to it. Because I only have six weeks left here, I really, really, really want to enjoy it. Thus, I have created a short bucket list. It reads as follows.
1) Go to the Watering Hole. Or is it the Water Hole? It’s a hole with water in it. I’m going in May, though. And I will be swimming in it normalIy. None of this skinny dipping nonsense. I don’t understand the appeal of skinny dipping. Sure, you’re naked, but you’re also wet and freezing. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—if you want to sit around naked and eat Cheeze-Its with me by the fire, let’s do it. I’m in. If you want to get cold and naked, you’re gonna need to find another girl.
2) See Cappy. Hi, Cappy! I’ve actually seen you before, but I want to see you in a small, intimate type setting, where I can ask you if I have accidentally offended you with any of my articles or if the lawn outside of your house can actually raise up and if there is a whole fleet of Lambourghinis filled with scarves down there. If I can only get one question, I’d probably ask about the scarf cars.
3) See a play. I’m not kidding. I’ve never seen one. I don’t know what I’m doing with myself. Meryl Streep herself could be in a play here and it wouldn’t make a difference, I always make some excuse like “No, the line at the Post Office is too long and I have 15 Nilda’s cookies to eat so I can’t go to that play.” Six weeks, Lil. Six weeks.
4) Make more jokes about VCards. I’ve really been off my “VCard” equates to “virginity” joke game for the last three years. I’m bringing it back for the last six weeks.
5) Sell my computer and buy a typewriter so I can fit in with the more “hip” students. Also, only wear my hair in a topknot. Also, use the word “problematic” more.
6) Get a dog. Just kidding, ResLife! I would never have a dog! I definitely don’t have a Bernese Mountain Dog in my TH right now! There isn’t hair everywhere and he definitely hasn’t eaten the handle off of the refrigerator! Don’t come over!
7) Figure out how to get from the first floor of Blodgett to the top floor (how many floors are there? 14?) without crying or questioning my existence. For the record, Microsoft Word suggests that I change “Blodgett” to “Bloodroot.” That’s telling.
OK, those are my seven necessary goals I need to reach before graduation. I would also like to do things like “get a job” or “take the GRE,” but those things obviously come second to the topknot.