"What Was I Going to Say?" : May edition

Singing along to: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Californication. "Space may be the final frontier but it's made in a Hollywood basement."

The times, they are a-changin'

I hate change.

Anyone who knows me not only knows this, but also knows how easy it is to use against me. For instance, when my friends are bored, they know that all they have to do to get lunch and a show is to sit in my usual seat and watch the ensuing breakdown. Once I get into a routine, I like to stick with it and heaven help the person who gets in my way.

It’s not always a bad thing--when you do everything the same way, every time, it’s harder to forget a step. For instance, I always park in the same area when I go to the mall, so I never have to wander around the parking lot in the rain, trying to find my car. This is a bonus.

But other aspects of this change-resistance are not so good. I’ve eaten the same thing for breakfast for years and I wear my hair the exact same way every day. I even wear the same headband. My parents tease me, telling me that if I’m this nuerotic about changes at the age of seventeen, then I’ll need expensive therapy and a support group or two by the time I’m forty. My future family is in for a treat.

Just between us, though, I think forty is a conservative estimate. This whole graduate-and-leave business is already taking its toll, and I still have a month to go. I know I’ve been counting down and cheering with everyone else--one side of me really is ready to go.

The other side of me is curled up in a fetal position, clinging to high school for dear life.

The transistion from middle school to high school wasn’t like this--I was nervous, but excited, because quite frankly, middle school wasn’t so great. The way I saw it, high school had to be better. And it was. I keep telling myself it will be the same way for college, but I’m not so sure. Every single routine I’ve worked so hard to establish will be useless--I mean, come on, I won’t even be able to wear the same clothes every day to make myself feel better.

(Well...I could. But that’s not really the first impression I hope to make.)

Now, my AP psych buddies could no doubt go into a whole psychoanalysis of the deep-seated fears and subconscious thoughts that make me like this, but it’s probably not worth the trouble. Because when it comes down to it, I know that this too shall pass. Six months from now I’ll be so firmly entrenched in college life that the idea of anything different from that will send shivers up my spine.

And maybe, if I keep telling myself that, it’ll be okay. At least until I start thinking about four years from now... If I’m in this much of a state now, over four years of college, just imagine how bad I’ll be with the rest of my life to figure out.

I can feel my knees shaking just thinking about it.

***

There it is, kids. My final editorial for The Anchor. I really enjoyed writing these and I hope it showed. Hopefully I can get some column space in the newspaper at Catholic.

I have another favorite song! Another Postal Service song, Brand New Colony. Favorite line: "I'll be the platform shoes, undo what heredity's done to you. You won't have to strain to look into my eyes." Great song. Go buy the album and listen to it immediately!

Baccalaureate Mass tomorrow... Honors Assembly Friday.... One hundred fifty-third graduation on Saturday. Holy moley.

CUA freedom: 3 months, 16 days