With the clock winding down on my college career, I guess it’s time to take the metaphorical basketball and shoot until I can’t shoot anymore, like the brilliant teammate I consider myself to be.

Learning is essential to college, and looking back at all of the things I’ve learned at SU, I can’t even think of one thing in particular. Out of all the knowledge I’ve acquired, there’s nothing my parents should regret because oh man, my brain is hurting just thinking about the knowledge that has ran through my cerebellum and cerebral cortex (I think they bought it).

Let’s start with the existential stuff. I learned that I can push back laundry for days and be more than fine.  Sleeping through your classes isn’t the end of the world; in fact often it’s the start of a really nice day. I even learned that Hennessy and enemies make one hell of a mixture. No wait, that’s Drake.

I learned that I can eat Domino’s at 3 a.m. and I won’t wake up the next day looking like I did in high school. The bloating in my stomach will make me feel like I am Veruca Salt after eating the French bread edition of the Everlasting Gobstopper, but it’s all right. In fact, I WILL triple bacon on that order, thank you sir. My arteries are fine, right?

My arteries are not fine.

I learned I could be forward with a girl without being an asshole. It’s just being confident, which I always thought was a thing reserved for assholes. I also learned that sometimes, I’m going to be an asshole.

I learned that I could be a senior, but still feel exactly the way I did as a freshman. All it takes is going to Castle Court completely sober or walking into Maxwell Auditorium.

I learned that words are not like sandwiches you ingest and become one with, they are more like tiny slaps to the face that you hope you feel eventually. That column I wrote about girls is not going to fix my problem with girls. Therapy will (fingers crossed).

I learned that writing with a theme in mind, especially using a device that starts each sentence with the same two words, feels forced but also right at the same time. And by right I mean I’ve been rushing to meet deadline on this column. Can you tell I’m trying to justify this decision?

I learned that I shouldn’t drink three-fourths of a handle of Captain Morgan and Red Bull vodka and expect zero consequences, unless that is the name of the toilet I will fall into hours later.

I learned that I can get into my own head and when I do it’s scary, no matter how many times I do it. But I’ve inner-monologued enough to know that being vulnerable is amazing and that everyone should do it, because every time I do it I feel less alone. But simultaneously being alone is really important, if only because it will prepare me for “The Hunger Games.”

I learned that I judge way too much, and not the fun kind where there are three judges who yell about a parking ticket until everyone gives up. I project the harsh judgment I have on myself and hold it against others. I also have anxiety about coming up with the perfect thing to say, especially near the end of things. Wait, let me start over.

In the end, I learned that while I may not have come up with the saying, I will always be workin’ on it.

Published on May 2, 2016 at 8:35 pm