Looking Ahead... Kind of.

It has not hit me that tomorrow is the day I graduate from college. I don’t know if it’s because my parents haven’t already arrived. Or maybe it’s because all my grades haven’t been entered. And even if I end up failing a class and not graduating technically, I do have a graduation gown and am walking across the stage tomorrow morning. After that happens will it hit me that I become a real person? A college grad that can contribute something to the world… Maybe? Who knows.

            I’ve realized throughout this fast paced semester, it’s easier to take one day at a time. This summer is the first that I will be spending in Madison. Interning at the Madison Children’s Museum and Canopy Center, I will start working towards some sort of career path. The thought of that is frightening. But since I’ve already gotten in the habit of putting things off until the last minute, I think that I’ll wait to really worry about the bigger picture of life until the fall. 

St. Patty's Day: A Day of Infamy.

Thanks to London, I have finally found an established group of friends that I like and actually want to hang out with regularly and who remind me of my group of friends from home. As a die hard Seinfeld fan, I have increasingly become aware of the take away messages that are ever present throughout each episode. One I’ve learned to live by – keeping separate worlds. This meaning, never merging friend groups. However, St Patrick’s day weekend, my worlds collided. Sam, Lizzie, Red, Alyssa, Brandon Byers and Sean all came to Chicago to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. Because many of my friends from home had spring break this week, many were home for these festivities as well. While excited to see them, I was anxious for the explosion Seinfeld ensured me would happen upon such an event. The integration however, was everything but the catastrophic collision. We gathered at my friend’s house and drank throughout the day. Introducing the Madison/London crew to Haligan’s was exciting and went smoothly also… things were going good. That is until 5pm hit. I had received an invite to the Bulls game by one of the player’s brothers, a jolly British man Lizzie and I met while in London. Guaranteed good seats, free tickets, and a possible introduction to at least one Bulls player. It was too good to be true. Excitedly, I went home to change, no way was I was going to meet a Bulls player in my St. Patrick’s Day attire. While at home, I thought it would be a good idea to eat a little something, drink some water and lay down in my bed—just for a second. Fast forward to three hours later: Bulls game was over, 3 missed calls and 2 text messages and tears in my eyes. I had fallen asleep and missed the chance to potentially mark 2012 as the year I started being friends with the Chicago Bulls. Instead, St. Patrick’s Day 2012 now marks one of the dumbest days of my life. But it was still fun. 

February 28th: My Favorite Holiday

I wouldn’t describe myself as a narcissist. Not on any day… except my birthday. I cannot deny that I take full advantage of this glorious occasion. This includes skipping class and sleeping in, eating whatever I want, and drinking in copious amounts. This year was a little low key compared to others, and really how could celebrating my 21^st birthday in Rome be outdone? It can’t. Plus it’s all kind of down hill from there. Quite literally for me, a graceful drunk to say the least.  The sushi dinner was followed by a drunken blurry night at Brats with my favorite Londoners Red, Sliz, and Sam. Upon receiving my first drink at the bar as a 22 year old, Red and I made our way to the nearest table. Our first mistake was choosing the elevated table forcing us to stand or sit on bar stools – neither which is typically a good idea for two drunk clumsy girls. My attempt to sit down was followed by a loud crash of a drink, bar stool and giggling. There we were, on the floor of Brats, I went down and brought Red with me. All eyes on us, we managed to get up and avoid the security guards searching for the culprits of the broken glass crime scene. The rest of the night is pretty blurry… all I know is that it ended with a box of Dominoes cheesy bread—my spring semester choice of drunk food. 

Winter Break: The Beginning of the End

Fall 2011 is marked with an intense and deeply committed relationship with Lappy, Lamps, and Caffeine. Our love square not only reflects the longest relationship I’ve ever been in but also the hardest working semester of my life, which was pleasantly rewarded with the best grades I’ve ever gotten in my 16 years of schooling. I don’t think I’ve ever surprised myself more. Lappy, my laptop, and I would spend endless hours in the library room I cleverly dubbed lamps, for the elegant lamps that lined the tables. Typically we would be accompanied by Red Bull, my life support, or on rare occasions coffee or diet coke – this usually depended on the status of my bank account. Unfortunately this relationship ended… on OK terms, and I packed my bags and left. It was only a semi-dramatic exit.

In my three years here at Wisconsin, I’ve only really had one huge complaint about the university in general: the fall finals schedule. Why do all my friends from home get out a week, some even two, before me? I never coped well with this horrifying reality. Going home December 23^rd just isn’t fair. Unfortunately, my reasoning for being so upset (FOMO, or Fear Of Missing Out, on partying in Chicago) probably wouldn’t go down so well at the complaint office. 

Anyway, I made it back safely to Chicago in one piece. The whole drive I held it together, thinking of ways to emotionally detach myself from my recent break up. I was ready to move on and did so in the best way: friends and booze. The first night back I was welcomed with the traditional ugly Christmas sweater party held at my best friend Stephanie’s house: Cider and rum, peppermint schnapps and hot chocolate, seasonal beer, and big hugs. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. By the end of the night Lamps and Lappy were the last things on my mind.

Now, Christmas isn’t really one of my favorite holidays. The presents are usually mediocre and the family time is pretty boring. As a true fatty at heart, I tend to look forward to the dinner, which usually consists of lamb, asparagus, potatoes, and wild rice. But this year was different. The wonderful people at the NBA had decided that the best gift to give to America was the season opener after a long and irritating player-owner bullshit lockout. All I could think about that day was the LA Lakers roasting like chestnuts on a fire, a win that would and did give the Chicago Bulls the momentum to begin an exciting season.

Not much happened the next few weeks aside from some more partying. My home friends and I rekindled our relationship with our favorite bar, Haligans. Realistically, we should be on first name basis with all the bar tenders, but I guess that’ll have to wait until after graduation. New years was pretty low key, no one really wanted to spend hundreds of dollars on some random bar special to be surrounded by annoying suburbans from noonecareswhere, so we had a little party at a friends house. The week before Spring semester began, I was missing my friends from school and was getting restless. A visit from Sam and Lizzie shook things up a bit and we began the regular activities that would pave the way to the daunting day of graduation (not doing work, drinking, and drunk food).