As second semesters tend to do, this semester follows semester one.
“The spectacles of experience: through them you will see clearly a second time.”
The wonderful thing about doing things for the first time is that for the most part, you going in without preconceived notions about how it will be. Sure, you’ve heard stories. You’ve seen it on TV. You’ve every single piece of advice anyone ever thought up on the subject. The problem about going in the second time is that you walk in with whole new ideas of how it’s supposed to be, a whole new set of standards to compare it to. Last semester, I only had class on Tuesdays and Thursdays; I made it a habit to see the sun rise, sleep the day away, and then watch movies until 4 a.m. again. It was wonderful and awesome and so.much.fun, but it wasn’t reality. This semester I had class every single day and I’m still not used to it. Some of my first semester glee and joy and newfound independence seemed to wear off as I was reminded what it was like to wake up for class every single morning and to have assignments due all week long (not just on Tuesday!) and to spend hours at the library doing actual work. All that sounds like I might be downing these last few months, and while it’s true that they were different and harder, more secluded and less carefree, longer and shorter than those in 2009, they were still incredible. So I know that I talked about how hard it will to leave before; now let me tell you why.
January: I experienced God in a great big way at Passion2010, and then I came home and danced in the parking lot with my best friend because we were back. Our football team became the NATIONAL CHAMPIONS*. I started class. I got sick of class. We almost never got together anywhere because everyone was so busy. But sometimes we did.
February: My friends got together for Curious Cupid, and I got a vase of duct tape flowers. That doesn’t sound too romantic, I realize, but it was probably one of the most wonderful presents I’ve ever received. (Thanks Blake!) That week as the most horrible one in the entire year; it threw at me tests and hospital stays and fights, but I do remember that I successfully planned three birthday parties that same week. I learned how to dance in the rain.
March: I felt the sunshine again. We decided to sit on the quad and bask in it on Thursdays at 2 p.m., more often than not with tuna sandwiches and salads and banana pudding from Lakeside. Then, I realized that the sweetest words in the English language aren’t declarations of love at all; no, they are spring break. That was one friggin’ awesome week. Then we came home and geared up for the last two months. I’m still not sure where those two months went.
April: This, my favorite month, was a big deal month. There was Easter with my family and I fell back into love with them. There was Gracie’s birthday and and Spring Retreat and A-Day and my birthday. I never did a post telling you just how lovely that was, so let me give you the skinny: I have insanely wonderful friends. There was a visit from my mama and my favorite kids, a surprise birthday breakfast, a 2 a.m. present reveal, a picnic by the river, a birthday party, and lots and lots of brownies. It was perfect.
Today is April 27th, and I’ll be moved out on May 7th. I’ll be heading to Atlanta to nanny for my aunt and uncle. I’ll be leaving this behind. But I have it here, and I have it in my heart, and I am holding onto it so tightly, in hopes that I never forget a single detail. And I know that I’ll soon release my grasp; I’ll loosen my grip so that the details indeed fade and brand-new memories fill their places. I’ll have an incredible sophomore year, I just know it. But let me tell you this: this year, these months, that group of people up there- I couldn’t have asked for better.
God has been good to me.