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Second Semester, Senior Year

Let's begin with a question: How did this happen?
That's a good one. Straight forward, to the point. How eloquent. No, but honestly, truly and absolutely - how is it already my senior year of college? I feel so old and so young all at the same time. You think that's possible?
Young because I still make stupid faces at myself in the mirror, get teary eyed when I watch Peter Pan, and need my afternoon nap. Young because I throw tantrums and eat too much dessert and have no sense of the loudness of my own voice. Young because I spend way too much money, pick running over just about anything, and dance around in the morning to blasting music which is probably why my neighbors don't speak to me in the elevator. Young because I still have this great sense that I'm going to do great things and have a great life, and I'm still young enough to have options and take chances without royally messing anything up. It's having that naive attitude that comes with the young.
Old because yet another chapter in my book is coming to a close. Old because I refuse to go out more than once a week, do anything illegal, or stay out past 1:30 in the morning. Old because I don't laugh at dirty jokes or do more than 2 shots in that one time a week. Old because I find myself sweating the small stuff less often, and appreciating the good stuff more. Old because I have a chosen career, a person I want to share everything with, and the independence and drive to go out and do great things. That comes with the old.
I do, however, though that I would feel oldER as a senior in college. I remember looking up to my sister and brother when they were seniors and just being amazed at how grown up they looked when they walked, when they talked, and when they just stood in a room. They looked so put together and so adult. Meanwhile, at 22 I still binge on pints of icecream, watch cartoons and giggle when I see a puppy. Adult? Me? Not quite yet. But I'm getting there.

What does adult mean anyway? A study was done where researchers asked thousands of people what it meant to be adult. Younger kids said it had to do with making your own decisions and standing by those decisions. Older people said it had to do with having a full time job and being financially independent. I stand behind my beliefs and what not, however selfish, narrow-minded and usually entirely inaccurate they may be, and I do stand up for myself. I'm pretty financially independent, unless you count my significant mooching off of Chris' ROTC funds (he gets paid to go to school, how can I resist?) except for that fact that my parents pay for my college I pretty much stand alone. School is my full time job and I work 20+ hours a week at Citysports - does that count? Probably not. I think the definition is bogus. You can't define 'adult', but I think when it happens..you just know.

Soon I'll be joining the hoards of people who graduate from BU with absolutely no idea what they're going to do. I can't wait to exit this limbo I'm in. Hopefully, and for Godsakes I mean HOPEFULLY, I get into a fantastic grad school I'm completely stoked about, jet-set off to a different part of the country and fill my life with getting my master's...oh and running, biking, swimming, skiing, rockclimbing, hiking, camping...Hmm...am I moving out west for the education or the adventure?
Maybe it's both, or a little more of the adventure.
I feel like I do my best thinking on a bike or on a run, so maybe they go hand-in-hand. Afterall, the first person to break a 4-minute mile was a doctor.

I just want to leave the east coast. It's nice and all, but the people are so cold, and so is the weather. I love cold weather, but Boston is just brutal. I need space where I can just breathe and just be. I can't wait to move to Colorado or Utah, I just feel like that's where the next big stage of my life is going to be set.
Now I just need a mountain bike and some huskys and I'll be just fine.

Love love love,
me


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