On the day of graduation back in May, after a rousing and hilarious game of Apples to Apples, my roommates and I and the remainder of our party guests decided to go to Top of the World* so that Abbey, Emma, and I could see it before we were "officially done" with undergraduate. So, we piled into two cars and followed Amanda up the hill to the outlook point.
Top of the World, if I'm explaining correctly, is a scenic outlook at the top of the tallest point in Manhattan. The hill can easily be identified by 'MANHATTAN' in very large letters that has been put into the side of the hill. Visitors can sit and observe the view from the letters, or take various trails that lead down the hill. The night of graduation was the first time I'd ever been there, so I was especially excited though I knew that it was probably the last time I'd get to spend time with Abbey before she left for Chicago.
Once we'd parked and realized that we'd forgotten flashlights--it was after dark--Amanda led us to the Manhattan sign, were there were two couples enjoying the view,** and we took a moment to enjoy the city at night, from Wal-Mart over to the other side of Tuttle Creek Boulevard.
"There's another place that I should show you, c'mon," Amanda said, leading us back up the path and into brush.
My phone was my only light source, and as soon as she headed what seemed in the dark as off the path, I got really nervous. Regardless, I followed Heidi and everyone else down another short path and up onto a wide expanse of concrete surrounded by trees. Here, we couldn't really see a good view of Manhattan because of all the trees, but we could see the stars. Granted, we couldn't see a lot because of the lights from the city, but there were a few that shone brightly enough for us to catch a glimpse of them.
There was a rustling in the brush bordering our viewpoint. Then there were noises. My scaredy-cat side thought we were minutes away from being attacked.
"Are you okay?" I asked Heidi, who was nearby.
"Yeah."
The others became louder. Emma and Amanda scoffed at the sounds, and Abbey was jumping around. Alisha was talking about Darren Criss. I stepped closer to Heidi.
"Seriously?!" I finally called out. It wasn't funny anymore. "This is immature. We are in college. GOD."
Amanda came over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Heather, it's just those jerks we interrupted earlier. We are not going to be attacked. They got mad that we interrupted their make out session, and they're trying to get back at us."
"I KNOW," I shrieked. "But I have an overactive imagination that's going crazy right now. This is why I can't handle horror movies."
We made our way back to the outlook point by the parking lot, giggling, talking, and making jokes while trying to soak up every last delicious moment of what had been an amazing, wonderful day. It had been, truly, the best day, and as curfew came at 11pm, I was devastated that it was over. We said goodbyes to Abbey, exchanged hugs with one another and went our separate ways.
This summer, as far as I can remember, was probably the one that went by the fastest. I read a lot, worked, fine tuned my resume, applied for a few jobs. Packed. Moved into a wonderful little apartment that puts the Tiny Blue Room to shame a hundred times over. Classes have been in session for about two weeks, and it's been so incredibly strange not to be going on to campus. As I wait to hear from the jobs I applied for, I am trying to keep my head in the mindset of what I want to accomplish. Graduation day was so long ago, but it feels like it just happened. I'm thankful for the break, but I know I'll be ready to get back into the groove once graduate school gets here.
How strange time is.
*To this day, I'm not sure if it's officially called Top of the World or Manhattan Hill. For the sake of continuity in this post, I'm going to refer to it as Top of the World.
**They were making out. We were being loud. It was awkward.
Showing posts with label moments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moments. Show all posts
Monday, September 3, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Parallels
I like to believe that things tend to come full circle. Or, at least, most of the way around.
During my first week of college classes, I was trying to adjust to the work load. I spent my first day of my history class nodding and nodding and nodding at everything the teacher said when talking through the syllabus. I was devastated that by that Friday, I hadn't finished reading Pride and Prejudice for my first English class (entitled "The Novel"). I did eventually finish the book, about three weeks later, and loved it.* Everything was bright and strange and weird. I'd also fooled myself into thinking that riding my bike to class and getting up at 6:30 every morning was how I was going to spend my time every day of every semester.
This past week was my last official week of classes as an undergraduate. On Monday, I spent a good three hours working on my final illustration project (an illustration of Emma Watson that turned out a lot better than I thought it would), fighting exhaustion from only a few hours of sleep the night before. On Tuesday, I finished up the drawings for my final drawing series as well as the illustration project, and made it home early enough to watch the new Glee episode with Alisha. On Wednesday, I tried to focus my attention on the rough draft of my drawing thesis paper, and wrote late into the night, as has been my tendency with papers. Thursday was a blur of a critique in drawing, which promptly turned into a nightmare when I got frazzled trying to navigate Photoshop and InDesign while working on my portfolio in BFA studio. I called my dad to wish him a happy birthday, angry at myself for not being as talkative as I would have liked.
Friday was my last official day of class. Work was work. Someone brought up Scooter Girl before Advanced Fiction and a thousand memories of my first years in the dorms came rushing back to me. We ate cookies (beautiful, delicious, non-alcoholic confections called 'cookie shots') while singing loudly to the tune of the graduation march while my Creative Writing professor handed out congratulatory cards from the English department to those who were graduating. And then she said her goodbyes, we did TEVALS, and it was done.
As I was walking through the quad on my way back to my car, I witnessed, finally, a group of the tight-rope walkers. And I wanted to cry.
I went to Hunter's and Vicky's BFA reception. Their work in the gallery was INCREDIBLE. The English banquet later that night was beautiful and the finality of the semester really started to hit me. I was simultaneously lamenting the end of everything I'd grown to love over the last few years and eager to dive right into the next step: writing, reading, working, prep for grad school, the freedom from stress. Bittersweet, and understandably so. Being surrounded by friends and teachers and people who loved many of the same things I loved was the perfect way to end the semester. I'll miss it.
The more I think about everything I've experienced over the last six years, the more overwhelmed I become. I feel like I've been experiencing emotions I don't even have names for. But enough sentimentality.**
And then there was this afternoon, when I got a call from one of my oldest college friends, Jenna, as she was in town for the day and wanted to get together with Prairie and I. I met them at ColdStone, our favorite place to go together. We used to go there regularly the first few years of college before we got busy (nearly every Tuesday, when you could get a second Like It for $.25 with a student I.D.). Jenna gave me my graduation present, a gift card for ColdStone, and I ordered my usual, as was the tradition: Cookie Doughn't You Want Some, with extra napkins because it gets messy.
*I'm a slow reader. And that week I was really, really overwhelmed.
**I'm terribly sorry about the sap. I'm working on it.
During my first week of college classes, I was trying to adjust to the work load. I spent my first day of my history class nodding and nodding and nodding at everything the teacher said when talking through the syllabus. I was devastated that by that Friday, I hadn't finished reading Pride and Prejudice for my first English class (entitled "The Novel"). I did eventually finish the book, about three weeks later, and loved it.* Everything was bright and strange and weird. I'd also fooled myself into thinking that riding my bike to class and getting up at 6:30 every morning was how I was going to spend my time every day of every semester.
This past week was my last official week of classes as an undergraduate. On Monday, I spent a good three hours working on my final illustration project (an illustration of Emma Watson that turned out a lot better than I thought it would), fighting exhaustion from only a few hours of sleep the night before. On Tuesday, I finished up the drawings for my final drawing series as well as the illustration project, and made it home early enough to watch the new Glee episode with Alisha. On Wednesday, I tried to focus my attention on the rough draft of my drawing thesis paper, and wrote late into the night, as has been my tendency with papers. Thursday was a blur of a critique in drawing, which promptly turned into a nightmare when I got frazzled trying to navigate Photoshop and InDesign while working on my portfolio in BFA studio. I called my dad to wish him a happy birthday, angry at myself for not being as talkative as I would have liked.
Friday was my last official day of class. Work was work. Someone brought up Scooter Girl before Advanced Fiction and a thousand memories of my first years in the dorms came rushing back to me. We ate cookies (beautiful, delicious, non-alcoholic confections called 'cookie shots') while singing loudly to the tune of the graduation march while my Creative Writing professor handed out congratulatory cards from the English department to those who were graduating. And then she said her goodbyes, we did TEVALS, and it was done.
As I was walking through the quad on my way back to my car, I witnessed, finally, a group of the tight-rope walkers. And I wanted to cry.
I went to Hunter's and Vicky's BFA reception. Their work in the gallery was INCREDIBLE. The English banquet later that night was beautiful and the finality of the semester really started to hit me. I was simultaneously lamenting the end of everything I'd grown to love over the last few years and eager to dive right into the next step: writing, reading, working, prep for grad school, the freedom from stress. Bittersweet, and understandably so. Being surrounded by friends and teachers and people who loved many of the same things I loved was the perfect way to end the semester. I'll miss it.
The more I think about everything I've experienced over the last six years, the more overwhelmed I become. I feel like I've been experiencing emotions I don't even have names for. But enough sentimentality.**
And then there was this afternoon, when I got a call from one of my oldest college friends, Jenna, as she was in town for the day and wanted to get together with Prairie and I. I met them at ColdStone, our favorite place to go together. We used to go there regularly the first few years of college before we got busy (nearly every Tuesday, when you could get a second Like It for $.25 with a student I.D.). Jenna gave me my graduation present, a gift card for ColdStone, and I ordered my usual, as was the tradition: Cookie Doughn't You Want Some, with extra napkins because it gets messy.
*I'm a slow reader. And that week I was really, really overwhelmed.
**I'm terribly sorry about the sap. I'm working on it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)