Beginnings and Endings

Holy Moses. I just came to the realization that this fall will not be spent on good ole Rocky Top as it has been in years past.

I think maybe this happy thought just crossed my mind as I have been facebook stalking and status reading and such and it dawned on me that my sorority sisters are gearing up for retreat and recruitment right now and I. Am. Not. Not that I'm gonna miss sweating like a fiend in Panhellenic and singing and talking til I'm blue in the face, but dear lord how I'll miss those girls. The late night chats about all things inappropriate, the new dresses and jewelry and nervousness, the excitement over the new members...I could go on, but I won't.

Memphis is still being very good to me, but it's hard to believe that I won't be setting foot on that hallowed hill as a student ever again. No more ball games in the student section or Daily Beacon crosswords or nights in Greve. No more English classes (praise Jesus) or not studying in the Commons or burger nights at Copper Cellar. No more invading the ADPi floor to bunk with Leigh Anne and watch John Tucker and Bridget Jones' Diary or bustin' in Courtney and Danielle's room with stupid stories and then running to Mary's room and stopping in Carly's on the way to say something foul. These are the things college is made of. I'm gonna miss it.

It has also occurred to me that I'm incredibly close to being a full-fledged adult soon. In three years I'll (hopefully!) be starting my career and having an income that doesn't have to be processed by EdAmerica first. I'd like to have a cute little house with a backyard and a dog, and I'll have dinner parties and fun kitchen gadgets. I'll buy tons of shoes and designer bags and be fabulous.

Then a few years later I'll feel a loneliness that Fluffy the Pomeranian cannot fulfill. I'll meet a man. His name will be Bill and he'll have a career in science. He'll do some type of research. He'll be an expert witness on something I need in order to prosecute a case or something. I'll marry him because I'll be pushing 35 and it'll be pretty hard to ignore that tic-tocking of my biological clock (not to mention that Steve Carrell won't be the only 40 year old virgin by that time...). He's pretty average looking and an awful dresser. He loves sporting events but shows no enthusiasm. He's a good golfer because his mother never allowed him to play contact sports, not to mention that his asthma has always been a major deterrent. He has a subscription to Scientific America, and when asked his favorite author, he doesn't miss a beat. It's JRR Tolkien. Stephen King novels are a guilty pleasure. He used to be a Trekkie, and if he could have any super power, it would be the ability to teleport. Bill will be socially awkward but he won't mind the dinner parties. He won't be much of a talker, but he'll listen to my stories. We'll probably rethink our marriage every day, as I will be too high strung for him and he'll bore the hell out of me. He'll accuse me of being "emotionally unavailable" and I'll call him "spineless." We'll stay together for the kids, "the ONLY good things you ever gave me, BILL!" but once they're old enough to understand that "just because Mommy and Daddy don't love each other, doesn't mean they don't love you" the marriage will move to Splitsville, USA, where I'll pursue men 10 years my junior who speak little English and look good by my pool. Bill will move back home out west to be close to his mother, where he will take a job doing research for his alma mater. I'll only see Bill twice a year when we meet halfway to pick up and drop off the kids, but we'll all live happily ever after with anxiety medication and a few family therapy sessions.

I'm excited to see what the future really does hold. The End.