I've composed many a thoughtful letter, random essay or heated rant in my head while trying to drift off to sleep, but I tend to be too lazy to get up and actually jot down my perfected thoughts. "I'll remember in the morning and do it then," I yawn to myself as I roll over and head for dreamland. As you probably all know, in the morning in the midst of getting to class in those negative three minutes that you acquire if you walk around Baker the proper way, these thoughts tend to slip away, composed but never captured.
For example tonight I started a letter to my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend primly trying to explain just how grateful I was that she hadn't sent my bags to Peru after she checked me in on my United flight back to school . Sometimes reality is stranger than the movies. Just as I've decided I do like the East Coast quite a bit, I'll probably be dashing away from all my Boston and New York-based friends to the security of the Pacific Northwest next year where no one will come visit me because they think plane fares are too expensive (When in reality it's the same cost as 10 long cab rides in New York!).
Not only that, but I lost my red mittens before break. That's just about the only other email I've gotten myself out of my newly warmed nest-bed to compose. It was to the Collis employees begging them to look a little harder for my coveted red chunky wool mittens (which I must have left by the coffee station while absentmindedly pouring a bit of milk into my hot chocolate). Just because I'm thoughtless doesn't mean I don't care. I've had those mittens since sophomore year. I've led tours in those mittens. People know those are my mittens. Are you sure you haven't seen them?
So what exactly is my point with all of this? Well, some of the inspiration came from a couple of "random walks" that seniors tend to take during their, well, senior year and which, through some need for formatted English words, somehow end up getting printed in The Dartmouth. I used to think that seniors who got all philosophical and scared about life when faced with the reality of finally heading beyond the Hanover bubble were full of crap. After all, with a Dartmouth degree certainly the world would be at their fingertips. Get a job, goofball -- it can't be that hard! And I'm not suggesting that we have it nearly as hard as kids who didn't go to college -- but still, finding a job or deciding to take the future Ph.D. or M.D. plunge is a tad intimidating. I'm taking the Ph.D. route myself. Call me "Dr. Mittens."
Which is why I'm taking this summer to go hiking in the Olympics and Cascades of lovely Washington state. To clear my mind, traipse the ridge trails and get a good view of the world that I'm supposed to live in. But where to go? I'm definitely a small-town girl at heart, I've never challenged myself enough to live in a bustling city (But I could, if I decide to go to BU or MIT!), but on the other hand, the folks are just so much more chill out west (well then, UW? Oregon?). Comments? Suggestions? I'm quite at a loss.
So while I busy myself this spring term taking my first real English class (not counting the dreaded English 5) and attempting to write the first word (and hopefully a few more) of my thesis, let me just shout out to the rest of the senior class to say that I feel your indecisive pain. (And for those '01s who have already taken some extremely high paying job in New York, can I just say that, wow, you're nice looking and if you want to donate a car to my poor grad school existence next year it would be much appreciated!)
So, to the class that remembers when Rauner was under construction and when Moore was only I-beams; who remembers Kiewit and the little grassy area and driveway that used to exist where Berry Library now stands; who remembers the old bridge; who remembers a seventh sorority, keg jumps and actual bars in frat basements, and who experienced fall rush; who remembers when there was no WebBlitz, or Collis posters telling you what's going on today, or movies on DTV and who remembers the days when we had to stand in line at the Hop to register for the term; who remembers James Freedman's reign (and wonders why all our presidents seem to be named "James"); and who appreciates the fact that we routinely check Blitz on iMacs which are way speedier than the clunkers from our freshman package which we still use for class work -- let me just say to you all: enjoy the last quarter y'all, we're almost there!
