I had to do an interesting assignment in class. The professor gave us the sentence starter “I am,” and we had to complete it 13 different ways. My first one, obviously, was “I am sassy.” Then came others such as “I am a girl,” “I am going to skeeve on guys at graduation,” and then I wrote my 14th sentence — “I am graduating.”
I am graduating. The words repeat themselves into a dull hum that disrupts my concentration. What does this mean? Shouldn’t I have a job? Why do I feel more lost now than I did as a graduating senior from high school? I could go on, but I have nothing better to say about graduation that hasn’t been said already.
I ponder on those faring better than I am with post-graduate plans, and I can’t help but wonder: How do they have futures? I mean, some are downright assholes and definitely not as qualified for life as I am.
I know one kid who spent most of his undergraduate career alternating between being upside down in true keg-stand formation and hovering above the porcelain god. Somehow he was just offered a banging bank job.
This leads me to believe that being an adult is the same as being a debauched college student, only accessorized with a higher income. None of my friends who graduated in years past suddenly morphed into sensible grownups when they walked across the stage at graduation.
Sure, during the day they are office workers, teachers, graduate students or whatever. But come nightfall, they still show up to the same house parties they did in the past, and I think it’s great.
The funny thing is that all my “weird” friends are those people. In college, they chose strangeness over walking the straight and narrow. Strangeness meaning they were true to themselves by making “bad choices” such as turning down Teach for America to paint full time, going abroad with no plans for a life they were passionate about. My friends who cared more about pretenses? They have jobs but aren’t as in love with life.
If the highest goal of college is a steady job, then the weird friends fail. However, if the goal is to find yourself, then they absolutely succeeded.
The great thing about college is that you’re thrown into a melting pot of people, cultures, opinions and lifestyles. This university and its surrounding city are so big that there’s literally a litany of diverse interactions — good and bad. You have front-row seats to a fascinating, albeit sometimes disturbing, world.
So take a class you barely pass, fake your way through a minor, speak in a horrible accent when drunk, find losers to call friends, find yourself, get your heart broken, challenge your own opinions, make peace with your crazy and wake up to do it again in the morning.
Best advice ever? Don’t take yourself seriously. So own it when you wear hot pink leggings and a purple cardigan to class, and don’t think twice about referring to your stubble as “chin music.”
My photography professor ended class by telling us, “Have a nice life.” This seemed sad, but he corrected me: “I’ll probably never see you again, and I truly hope you do have a nice life.” So in the same vein, I hope you leave for the infinite abyss unafraid and get the most out of your time on this planet.
Shruti Rastogi is a senior journalism major. She can be reached at rastogi at umdbk dot com.
