Monday, October 30, 2006

At the Lake

You know, I love going home, but everytime I do it makes me nostalgic. I wish I had my old life back. The college life. The one where home was a weekend and four loads of laundry and football lights across the lake. But now I know I have an actual apartment, not just some place I rent for the year and when the semester's over I move out.

Sometimes I feel like I didn't spend enough time in college doing college things. I don't think I took enough road trips, if any. I just don't feel like I should have had to graduate just yet.

But I guess everyone feels that way.

May it's because up until last year I had planned to stay for a fifth year. Then I looked at my credits and realized I could graduate in four. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I didn't have to go for five, and yet I wish I could have stayed there forever.

Sometimes I wish I could be that kid, the one who goes to grad school right out of college. But then I know that that would be bad, that I should get experience.

I want to be a professor, so I need to work as a reporter for five or ten years, so I have stories to tell my students 30 years from now.

Wow, when I say it that way, it seems just around the corner.

Driving back down here, I just got incredibly homesick for college. Maybe it was the route I took -- the drive back to college was straight down 81. Maybe it was just going home and seeing my family for the first time since moving away and getting a job. (Caitlin and I went up to the lake in August, but no one was there.)

But then I got back here, and walked in the apartment complex, and smelled the hallway, and it smelled like it did when we drove down to Hanover in the summer and first saw the place. And then it made me glad that we actually found jobs together and a place we could afford and a cat and a life. So I guess it isn't all bad.

But I do miss high school and Lake Wallenpaupack and going off to college and stuff.
As much of a loser I was in high school, I still have very fond memories of being ridiculed in those halls.

And college probably was (Warning: Horrible Cliche) the best four years of my life.

So I don't know. Looking through all my stuff this weekend (I had to repack a bunch of boxes) I just got all these memories flooding back to me. Like looking through my Boy Scout stuff.

Yeah, go ahead, mock me. But camping with those kids and learning all that outdoor crap, it was probably the coolest thing ever. I got to backpack on the AT. I got to camp every weekend, in the coolest places.

In the summer I got to spend two whole weeks at scout camp learning more outdoor crap, sleeping in a canvas tent and goofing off in the woods.

It was like Brendan Heaven.

I even found my OA sash. I made brotherhood, bee-hotches. That's what I got for being an Elangomat five times and donating my weekends in the fall and spring to working in silence all day with a bunch of other kids, eating little balls of wheat and orange juice. But that's another story entirely.

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