Just finished my LAST class of my undergraduate career! And it was, of course, math class *twitch*. God really does have the best sense of humor - "Numbers have always caused Katie to go into hysterical fits of composed of both crying and laughing, let's have that be her last college class memory." Duped by God again! How does he know!? I'll get him some day.
Not shockingly it was actually 100% anti-climactic. No fireworks, confetti, or whales jumping. Obama didn't hand me an award on my way out the door and the Pope wasn't there to bless my exit from the building. Just Professor Burke trying to squeeze in oneeee last problem before we went into 5 min overtime. Actually, she might as well be a god, she DID get me to, at the very least, tolerate numbers this semester. I think our good relationship stemmed from when I discovered she was a cyclist and we talked nonstop about bikes for half an hour after class. Or maybe it was when I found out she went to Berkley and I started serenading her with "California Girls" in class (not my proudest moment). Or maybe it was my extreme amusement of the boots/purple jeans/rocker t-shirts she sported to class. Or maybe it was when I cracked a Catholic joke and she busted out laughing. Whatta gal. Regardless, she was the reason I looked forward to the basement of the math building.
As a wee widdle freshman, I honestly thought this day would never come. I really thought I'd feel older at this point, or at least not be sleeping with my stuffed animal Scout anymore. Almost 23 and still snuggling with that scruffy little dog! Maybe after my grad school graduation I'll put him anyway....actually, definitely not.
So, in honor of this day, and in true matching fashion, Julbug and I struck a "galiant" (Gallant + Valiant. Yes, a word I made up) pose.
We never plan to wear the same thing to class it just...happens. And as as long as we pass our one measly final, we should be golden.
Not shockingly it was actually 100% anti-climactic. No fireworks, confetti, or whales jumping. Obama didn't hand me an award on my way out the door and the Pope wasn't there to bless my exit from the building. Just Professor Burke trying to squeeze in oneeee last problem before we went into 5 min overtime. Actually, she might as well be a god, she DID get me to, at the very least, tolerate numbers this semester. I think our good relationship stemmed from when I discovered she was a cyclist and we talked nonstop about bikes for half an hour after class. Or maybe it was when I found out she went to Berkley and I started serenading her with "California Girls" in class (not my proudest moment). Or maybe it was my extreme amusement of the boots/purple jeans/rocker t-shirts she sported to class. Or maybe it was when I cracked a Catholic joke and she busted out laughing. Whatta gal. Regardless, she was the reason I looked forward to the basement of the math building.
As a wee widdle freshman, I honestly thought this day would never come. I really thought I'd feel older at this point, or at least not be sleeping with my stuffed animal Scout anymore. Almost 23 and still snuggling with that scruffy little dog! Maybe after my grad school graduation I'll put him anyway....actually, definitely not.
So, in honor of this day, and in true matching fashion, Julbug and I struck a "galiant" (Gallant + Valiant. Yes, a word I made up) pose.
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