A Few Big Life Changes...All Packed Into One Post!!!!!

I realized it had been awhile since I had done a regular-length post, so here goes. A lot of kind of big and exciting things have been happening in my life recently, so I guess that, since this is a blog about my life as a “real person” (yes, I’m still not sure that I actually qualify as a real person yet, so I’ll keep using quotations), I should fill everyone in!
A few weeks ago, I sensed that I was approaching a crossroads: my job search had, up until that point, been entirely unsuccessful, so, unless I found something by the 7th of August, the date I had to be out of my Georgetown townhouse, I would probably have to go home for awhile, at least until I got a job offer. Now, for those of you who know me well, you know that I have spent MINIMAL time in Longmeadow (granted, a very nice place to grow up but not exactly a hotbed of things to do), especially since coming back from my year abroad, so the prospect of having to go home for any period of time was not exactly a welcome one.

So I decided that, in order to avoid the torturous fate of returning to Longmeadow, I had to step up the job search big time. In a two-week period, I had several interviews (both over the phone and in-person), and had set up several more. Despite being relatively new to the interview process, I came out of each of my interviews feeling confident, so I was really hoping that some of the prospects would pan out for me. Well, one beastly hot morning (really, that could describe any morning in DC) , I went in to interview for a position in the Business School at Georgetown. Not having any background in business, I was skeptical, but from the second I stepped into the office, I got a great vibe from the office environment and all of the people who worked there. I was pleasantly surprised to get an email from them an hour after my interview offering me the job!

I had another interview the next day in another office at Georgetown, and, while I came out of that interview feeling like it had also gone really well, it left me with a dilemma. That office had said that they would probably not be looking to make someone an offer until the end of the following week, and I had already told the office in MSB that I would let them know before Friday (before I left for Georgia). So I thought to myself, ‘Do I decline the MSB offer and potentially not get an offer from this other office and end up back at square one? Or do I take the MSB offer, an offer in a great office that I would love to work in [but an offer that is temporary, with the possibility of it becoming permanent after January]’. Lesson #1 of the job search: learning how to play your cards. In the end, I decided that I didn’t want to potentially end up back where I started, with no job, so, especially since I loved the MSB office so much when I interviewed there, I accepted the offer!!!!!!!

I had also been put in touch with two girls who just graduated from Notre Dame about potential housing by a friend of mine from Georgetown who also knows one of the girls. When I heard that they were looking to live in Friendship Heights, I was initially skeptical, because I was really set on living downtown. But as time went on, I began to think that living there would be a really attractive option. After all, it is right on the Red Line, so you can be in Dupont in around 10 minutes; if you’re going to live outside of the city, I think that living on the Red Line is a must. Through talking with one of the girls, I thought that our personalities would mesh very well, so I ended up deciding to live with them! All of this was decided the same week that I got my job offer, so you can see how, because of the trifecta of a job offer, finding housing and going to Georgia, it was literally my best week ever!!! I went to look at the apartment the week after I got back, and fell in love with the neighborhood (the apartment is just over the Maryland line, by about a block-and-a-half, in a really ritzy part of Chevy Chase…not that there is a non-ritzy part of Chevy Chase, but let’s just say that Tiffany’s, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, JCrew, etc. are some of my neighbors) and the apartment. It’s a really ideal setup, and I’m so glad I decided to live with these girls!
So, two weeks later, my dad and Tim kindly came down and helped me move! It has been so nice to start settling into our little nest egg and fill it with our things. I still don’t have pictures up on my walls, which is a priority; I was saying to someone that, although this sounds really silly, one thing I really wanted was to put my posters (at least, my favorite ones; those of you who know me well are familiar with my EPIC poster collection, and there’s no way I could have fit all of those in my room) in frames, so that my room looks more permanent and less like a college dorm room with posters taped to the walls. So, little by little, it is starting to look like home.

What does my daily life look like now? Well, I wake up at 5 during the week to work out in the gym in my building before work. I know that, if I waited to work out until I got home at work, I wouldn’t work out, because I am, without fail, EXHAUSTED every day after work. So I shower, change, eat breakfast and head for the metro. Life as a commuter has been interesting; rather than take one of the 30 buses, which, while convenient, take FOREVER because someone inevitably wants to get on or off at every stop, I opt for the metro to Dupont and then a GUTS bus. Door-to-door, the commute takes 35-40 minutes, which isn’t too awful. What IS awful is how expensive it is to commute; I die inside a little bit every time I have to add money to my Smart Trip, which is VERY often. Unlike every other major city, which has monthly commuter value passes, DC has shunned any such money-saving plans. So basically, if you’re going at peak hours (or the newly classified peak-of-the-peak hours), you’re going to have to pay through the nose to commute. With the new fare increases (more of which I’m sure will come to help a fledgling WMATA), it sometimes feels like I’m selling my soul to the metro. Gone are the days of spontaneous shopping, because I now have to choose between that cute dress and commuting to work.

Anyway, since we had Orientation for our students during much of my first two weeks of work, I wasn’t getting home until 7:30 or 8, and sometimes even 8:30. When you consider that I am in bed by 10 to start the next day anew at 5, that means that I basically don’t spend much time at home, nor do I have much time for myself during the week. These are two things that I am not at all used to; even during college, when we had class during the day, my roommates and I spent a fair amount of time at home. And while we did have ridiculous amounts of homework, there was almost always time to watch a TV show or read a magazine, if we chose to do so. Now, basically all I want to do is collapse into my bed and watch a movie or an episode of a TV show while I eat dinner (since our dining room tale still hadn’t arrived when I left to go up to the Lake; but, I’m not going to lie, I did enjoy eating dinner in my room, because it meant that I got to stretch out on my comfy bed). I have gone to happy hour a couple of times since starting work, which I hope to do more of once I get into a more normal 9-5 routine at work, but the combination of being exhausted after work and going through a tough time in which I haven’t really felt like myself and have just needed time alone have meant that I really just want to come home after work and veg. But again, I think that that should change the more I adjust to my routine; however, I will still have to keep grandma-like hours during the week so I can get up to work out. I feel like I’m turning into my father more and more every day, since our early-morning, pre-work exercise routines and early-to-bed times are starting to resemble each other!

So I GUESS I should talk about my job now! Like I said, I loved the feel of the office and all of the staff when I interviewed there. It is a really small, all-encompassing office, so there is always a lot of work to be done. My coworkers and our students are what make it worth it to come to work every morning; I’m sure there will come a time when the students will come in asking demanding or annoying questions, but for now, at least the first years are so sweet and unassuming, particularly the international students, who we have gotten to spend even more time getting to know since we had a separate international student orientation before general orientation began. Okay, I’m kind of biased towards the international students, because it is because of them that I get to practice my French and Spanish!!!!! I’m giddy every time I get to speak one of those two languages with them, and they are always pleasantly shocked to find out that I speak them. It’s okay, I’m fine with being a language freak…Adjusting to working 9-to-5 has been interesting; I find that, by the time I get home at the end of the day, I’m totally gassed. Hopefully, once I get into more of a routine, it will be easier. One thing I’ve learned though from my first few weeks of work? Heels are not my friends. I’ve always known that I didn’t need to wear heels- I already have a certain height advantage over most people, especially other women. But you can imagine that, wanting to look cute and professional during my first few weeks at work, I whipped out the heels. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m going to put some lucky podiatrist’s children through college someday (add to this a work injury incurred when I essentially dropped the corner of a heavy wooden table on my toe. Essentially a toe massacre, and, embarrassingly, the only casualty of Orientation Week).

I'll try to churn out a Lake post within the next few days...

Technology

In recent weeks, since the departure of my friends from the Hilltop and their relocation to pockets all around the country, I have been thinking a lot about the role that these people, who I once saw every day, will continue to play in my life post-graduation. Naturally, technology has to be considered in any such conversation. We live in an age where technology is bringing us closer than ever (perhaps even too close!), but, in other senses, I would argue, is driving more of a wedge between us. Yes, the term "social media" does imply the ability of these communication outlets to connect people in terms of social networking, but it also, on another level, denotes a change in how we socialize with one another. I guess I would like to examine some of the technological tendencies I've noticed in my own life post-grad, and maybe come to a decision about whether or not these tools are a help, a hindrance, or something in between.

I guess a logical place to start would be Facebook, that global hegemon that has turned even the most cynical of social networkers into Facebook addicts. Phrases like "so-and-so friended me" and "I wrote on so-and-so's wall" and "oh, so-and-so is such a Facebook stalker" have invaded our daily discourse, for better or for worse. One can spend hours perusing the photos of a friend from preschool, a first crush, or, frighteningly enough, a grandparent, so one can look up at the clock and discover that one has been on Facebook for SEVERAL HOURS without even noticing it. One can look at an archive of the conversations between two people (Wall-to-Wall) and see when one's friends are online, giving Facebook almost Big Brother-like monitoring power. As far as my own case, I primarily used Facebook as a photo storage and posting outlet during college; don't get me wrong, I certainly communicated with people over Facebook, but my posting has skyrocketed since graduation, now that, still jobless, I have more free time. Despite my increasing frustration with the seemingly useless changes Facebook makes that render it less user-friendly, I have still turned into a summer Facebook drone. When I look at the people I communicate with over Facebook, it is a startling mix: while I do keep in touch with acquaintances past and present over Facebook, some of my relationships with family members are largely carried out there as well. The one saving grace is that, despite the fact that my closest friends and I do keep in touch over Facebook, we still do not hesitate to pick up the phone to call one another or make the effort to go visit one another. As long as Facebook doesn't completely depersonalize my relationships, I guess I'll keep using it...as if I could resist!

So I realize I was a little bit behind the curve on this one, but I got addicted to Gchat last semester. I love hearing the adorable little chirp when a new post has been added to the conversation thread (as opposed to the annoying clicking noise that Facebook chat makes), and the system rarely freaks out the way Facebook chat does. I like that Gchat is more selective; I only chat with my contacts, a.k.a. my close friends, so you don't get the sense that anyone could potentially start chatting with you, like you do on Facebook. However, I've said it before and I'll say it again, NONE OF THESE CHAT FEATURES OR SOCIAL NETWORKING SITES ARE ADEQUATE SUBSTITUTES FOR ACTUAL CONVERSATION, whether it's over the phone (NOT texting) or in person. Gchat, Facebook chat and the like are wonderful tools if you want to have a quick chat with someone, but to expect that to be a substitute for actual conversation is ludicrous. For example, I have one friend who I've been Gchatting with a lot recently about something that I've been really happy and excited about. I saw her in person this past weekend, and she said to me, "Ahhh, I get to see the smile as you say all of this!!!" Emotions just don't translate online, so obviously seeing me talk about this particular topic in person really drove the point home for her. But I feel like that is my main gripe with technology- so much is lost in translation, you lose so much of the authenticity of a conversation when it is carried out online. The one thing that comes close is Skype (or, I suppose, other video chat services), because you can actually see the other person's face, expressions and reactions, but still there is no substitute.

Texting. Maybe one of my problems with it is that, with my penchant for writing texts in the form of epically long novellas (all while shunning the use of T9), as opposed to quick phrases, and the fact that my friends with smartphones can type back so much faster than I can, I often feel flustered and exhausted from trying to keep up. It is often insurmountably difficult for me to resist the urge to just dial a person's number as opposed to texting them, but texting is just so much easier (particularly if you're constantly on the go). I've noticed a lot about myself in the context of social media, most notably, that I can be funny, confident, flirtatious, etc. when I'm texting or when I'm on one of these sites. TECHNOLOGY, IN THAT SENSE, IS THE NEW ALCOHOL: A SOCIAL LUBRICANT THAT ALLOWS PEOPLE TO ASSUME PERSONALITIES THAT ARE EXAGGERATED, OR EVEN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE, VERSIONS OF THEIR OWN. I am a generally shy person, and do not consider myself at all funny or flirtatious. So who is this funny, confident, flirtatious girl? I look back at the texts that my technology alter-ego sent, and I just shake my head in disbelief sometimes. Yes, I can certainly force myself to embody those traits in public, but when I try to think of the fundamental qualities that define me, those would not be the first on my list.

Another new phenomenon in the Information Age is the concept of TMI. Some people, with the advent of Twitter and Four Square, constantly post updates about what's going on in their lives (Twitter) and "check in" with a Google Maps-esque image of their exact location (Four Square). Obviously, I'm doing this blog, so I'm perhaps guilty of putting too much information online, but I think that, in the cases of those services, they shouldn't serve as substitutes for actually talking to your friends and family. Those people shouldn't have to follow you on Twitter or Four Square (or Facebook, for that matter) to figure out what is going on in your life. In general, there is just too much information. Those of you who know me well will laugh at me, but I'm going to quote a pearl of wisdom from Drew Barrymore's character in the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" that I believe captures my sentiments exactly. Mary (Barrymore's character), like so many of us, has so many accounts that it would make your head spin, and she muses to her coworkers at one point, "I had this guy leave me a voicemail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It's exhausting." Trying to keep all of your profiles up-to-date and devote ample amounts of time to each of them (in addition to, oh, I don't know, REAL LIFE!) IS exhausting!!!!! But I feel like, starting with our generation, children will be getting accounts starting at ridiculously young ages. For example, I recently saw that someone had created a Facebook page for their baby, and it broke my heart a little bit. Gone are the simple days of our youth where we played outside and played pretend- now, kids will be talking on their smartphones and checking in on Four Square.

So how do we strike a balance? I have noticed, in my experience, that I am comfortable dabbling a little bit in each of these forms of technology, as long as there is still a good balance between "real" communication (phone and face-to-face conversations) and social media-type communication (texting, Facebook, Skype, Gchat, etc.). For example, in the case of someone I've been talking to a lot recently, we talk on the phone every 3 or 4 days, and text/Facebook chat the other days. It has worked out really well for us so far, and if either of us is ever feeling like we've been texting excessively, one of us will say, "I'd love to actually hear your voice!" and we'll talk on the phone. I think it's important to be able to recognize when you just need to chat over the phone, or get together to talk in person. Also, this is completely random, and you can call me crazy if you'd like, but I just want to throw this out there: I have recently been longing for the days when people wrote letters. Getting a letter in the mail is such a satisfying feeling, looking at the stationery the sender chose, observing the nuances of their handwriting, studying their writing style (which, I would argue, is more their writing style than that which they express over email or Facebook). There is a certain intimacy that you achieve by writing letters, so it's a shame that it seems to be a dying art.

My question for all of you is, what do you think about the role technology plays in our lives, more specifically in the context of the transition into post-grad life? If you are less of a recent college graduate than I am, how have you found technology helpful (and perhaps frustrating) in keeping in touch with college friends who may be continents away? Thank you to all of you who read this little technology rant, and I would be interested to hear what all of you think!!!

The Wedding!!!!!!

The happy couple's first dance


Me and Trinity, the most adorable flower girl ever!


Our West Point counterparts: Elliot, Todd, Gareth and Jeff


Molly, Allie, me, Alex and Lauren before the ceremony


The newlyweds exit the Cadet Chapel under a sabre arch

This past weekend was Dave and Kate's wedding, the event that we've all been waiting for since they announced their engagement nearly a year-and-a-half ago (yikes! I can't believe it was that long ago!). Heading into the weekend, I was excited, to be reunited with the girls, first of all. It has been a strange few weeks of seeing things that remind me of them every day, but having to confide in them via text, Gchat Facebook or phone conversations rather than in person. Luckily, I've had Lauren and a host of other close friends here with me in DC, but I've missed my core group of girlfriends. So when Molly and Alexandra got to my house in Longmeadow on Thursday so that the three of us could drive over to West Point together, we were jumping around, hugging and shrieking when we saw each other (although that was mostly just Molly and I, naturally).

A few hours later, we got to our hotel, and by the end of the evening, most of our reunions were complete. The girls and Kevin went out for dinner, and it was just so nice to all be together. Kate and Kristin were busy with their respective bride and bridesmaid activities throughout the weekend, but it was nice to just be able to enjoy a few hours with everyone without anyone needing to be anywhere. And our insanity that usually only comes out when we're all together was present in full force. This was evidenced by the fact that, when the ice cream place we had been eyeing was closed as we drove home from dinner, we went to a gas station and bought two boxes of ice cream. Claro.

On Friday, there was room for some of the group to go over to the Class of 1949 Lodge (the reception site) to help set up, and then go to the rehearsal ceremony. It was decided that Lauren and I would stay behind at the hotel. After perusing iTunes for about a half-hour trying to find a movie to rent, I was exhausted by the lack of decision-making (although I suspect it was also a lingering effect of a light sleep week), so ended up taking a very out-of-character two-hour nap. I woke up feeling completely rejuvinated and ready to head off to the rehearsal dinner.

The dinner was great- it was at this cute little pub not too far from our hotel, and it was a really nice mix of people. The families of the bride and groom were there (the highlight: Trinity, Kate's 2nd cousin once removed, who is the most precocious and adorable 5 year-old I have ever met. We definitely bonded, and I think she loved all of us in general because we were the cool older girls who doted on her), as well as the Georgetown girls and the West Point guys. And so began the ohsooriginal (not)great social experiment: throw together a bunch of college-aged guys and girls. The result is always guaranteed to be interesting...The guys were great, putting up with our incessant questions about life at West Point and in the Army, because, let's face it, we're all pretty ignorant about what that life is like. In our girl's debriefing session at the end of the weekend, we all remarked at how normal they were, as if we had all expected them to be hulking, gun-toting neanderthals. But they were great, really. Kate and Dave were just glowing, and it was so wonderful to not only be having such a great time with the guys, but also to see how happy they were. Molly and I were saying how unique this wedding was because we know both the bride and groom (given that they were high school sweethearts and we're all friends from college).

On Saturday, the pre-wedding primping began early, and we took a cab over to the lodge to help with our Wedding Elf duties. The Elves consisted of Molly, Alexandra, Allie, Lauren and I, and our job was basically to make sure everything was in its place, especially at the reception site. We arrived at the Lodge to find it locked, so while we waited for the caterer, who had the keys, we had an impromptu little photo session, which we're apt to do in our group. Finally, the very dissheveled caterer arrived and let us in, so we busied ourselves with last minute details like setting out favors, alphabetizing place cards, setting up luminaria outside, and just making sure everything was in its place. The guys looking dashing in their dress blues, arrived to take pictures at the lodge with Dave, and drove us over to the indescribably beautiful Cadet Chapel. We handed out programs and welcomed the guests, and hurried to our seats just in time for the sobfest (I'm not speaking for anyone else but myself). The ceremony was beautiful, short and sweet but still very personal and emotional. For example, Kate's mom did a very touching reading that left me (and I'm sure some others as well) in tears. And Dave's face, as Kate walked down the aisle, was the picture of pure happiness and adoration, a reaction I hope I'm lucky enough to elicit at my own wedding someday. Everything seemed to go off without a hitch (despite the fact that one of the members of the sabre arch was on an assignment for the Army and couldn't be tracked down, so had to be replaced at the last moment), so I'm sure Kate, ever the planner, was thrilled about that.

The reception was really lovely; the rustic-yet-elegant character of the Lodge evoked the down-to-earth nature of Kate and Dave's relationship, and was the perfect size for the intimate crowd of 130ish guests. As usual, the Georgetown group provided the entertainment, thanks in large part to the amazing playlist. I would say that we spent about 75% of the time on the dance floor...CLARO. As usual, it took awhile to get the guys on the dance floor, but once we did, I think it's safe to say that we discovered they're all pretty good dancers. So we didn't have to be dancing just in our little gaggle of girls anymore...not that we're not used to that. It's kind of what happens when you like dancing that much. I guess it also freaks people out when we shriek at the top of our lungs when our song request comes on...

Some highlights from the reception: Kristin's maid of honor speech, which left everyone who knows Kate in absolute stitches. Kristin (I know you'll be reading this eventually!) has the most amazing sense of humor, and the speech was spot-on, a perfect mixture of nostalgia and poking fun. Mr. and Mrs. Weatherby doing a tango (at least I think it was a tango) by themselves on the dance floor was really sweet, especially since taking dance lessons, according to Kate, is one of the things they do together. Kate and Dave's first dance, to an Italian song whose name is slipping my mind right now, was so incredibly sweet; Kate sang the Italian parts of the song to Dave, and, as in any interaction with the two of them, it takes about 5 seconds to realize how madly in love they are. Of course, dancing with little Trinity was so much fun; on Friday, she told us that she didn't like to dance, and we convinced her that we would force her to dance. Not only did she love dancing, but she also had a surprising talent of remembering pop lyrics.

The college-age set decided afterwards to go back to the Holiday Inn, where the West Point guys and a couple of the Georgetown guests were staying for a little afterparty. I'm not going to go into details, but it reached an understandable level of insanity, and I was more than a little pleased with how that night, and the extended weekend in general, worked out for me ;) I was so grateful that I got to be there to witness that beautiful ceremony that so beautifully showcased Kate and Dave's love for each other. I'm so glad it provided the opportunity to reunite with the best group of friends a girl could ask for, as well as an opportunity to meet some really wonderful new people. This wedding was light years better than any of the family weddings I had been to- there's really something to be said for being at a wedding with close friends and other people your age!!! And I can't wait to hopefully visit the newlyweds in Georgia!!!

Graduation, closing, coping

So it finally happened. The big "G" word. I think the mood of this post, the title of which is based on the infamous email back in February from our dear Provost, Jim O'Donnell (a.k.a. Fr. Boroughs' twin) concerning Snowmageddon, will closely mimic the misery and anguish of Provost O'Donnell's email. Senior Week and Commencement Weekend brought about a mix of emotions that, to be honest, I'm not sure I have fully reconciled yet. To have to come to terms with the fact that the Hilltop is never going to ring with the laughter of my best friends all together for an extended period of time has not been easy. I was talking to Dr. Porterfield on Sunday, and he made the excellent point that it is almost harder to stay here than to leave, because when you stay, all of the people who make Georgetown Georgetown for you (at least in terms of students) leave, and you are left with a place that you may not fully recognize in their absence. I have found this quote, over the past few days, to be extremely resonant, because each goodbye, whether with a best friend from freshman year or a friend who I had just had the pleasure to meet this semester, is difficult for me. I feel a much deeper sense of love for my college friends than I ever could have for my high school, and even childhood, friends.

On Senior Retreat, which I attended at the start of Senior Week, my friend Matt gave a speech. One part of his speech in particular really caught my attention. He said that everyone tells you that your four years in college are the best four years of your life. Since Senior Week is supposed to be the culmination of that college experience, then Senior Week must be the best week of your life. I honestly couldn't agree more! Senior Week, for me, meant unadulterated time with friends, uninterrupted by school and work commitments. We just got to enjoy being together and soaking everything in, enjoying all of the "lasts." Of course, the week was the most alcohol-heavy and sleep-light week of my life thus far, and I don't think I could have taken a day more. But you know what? I'm not sorry I partied!

Senior Retreat was the perfect way to kick off Senior Week. As a product of the therapy system, I consider self-reflection to be an integral part of one's life, so retreats are a perfect, nonclinical setting for that type of introspective thought. While there was a Catholic undertone to the retreat, what really meant the most to me was to be able to reflect, in both small and large group settings, on the past four years, and to muse about where we hope to be in the future. To any of you who know me, even in the smallest of capacities, my love for Georgetown is abounding (honestly, "abounding" is an understatement), and to be able to verbalize just what Georgetown has meant to me was wonderful. I have always known I loved Georgetown, but I had never had the opportunity to vocalize it to that extent, and to a captive audience of people in the same walk of life. When we weren't busy reflecting, I enjoyed the opportunity to meet new people and catch up with old friends. I really couldn't have asked for a better start to Senior Week.

On Sunday, we had a Reggae/Keg party outside of McDonough. Lots of drinking and dancing. That's all. On Monday night, we had our last round of Tombs Trivia. Our enormous (some would say unfairly so- 26 people!) team took home our fifth win of the year, a feat that I doubt has been accomplished by many teams. We're just that awesome, and I will miss my Trivia friends dearly. We decided to have a little fiesta for our team afterward, which turned into a drunken shitshow...well, maybe that was just for me. After I got sick, the few friends who were unfortunately still there to witness this decided that I should stay on Cal and John's couch. I woke up (in the morning feeling like P Diddy- had to add that little inside joke for Kate!) still drunk the next morning at 7:30, completely by chance, which was the only reason why I made it to my 8:30 physical therapy appointment. That was a miserable appointment. My physical therapist could obviously tell that I was drunk, and I didn't realize this until my next appointment on Thursday, but I apparently told him that I REALLY like blueberry mojitos. Oh dear, TMI Kristen...

On Tuesday night, we celebrated Kate's bachelorette party with a yummy Moroccan dinner at Marrakesh and drinks at the ohsoswanky 18th St. Lounge. It was nice to be able to devote a night to Kate and fête her upcoming nuptials (June 12th!!!). It was such a departure from something we would normally do on a Tuesday night (if I go out at all on a Tuesday, it is obviously to Tombs), so it was nice to be able to try something a little bit different. On Wednesday, we had the Senior Picnic at this huge farm in Maryland. The unseasonably chilly day was tolerable because of delicious down-home cooking, drinks, hayrides, games and LOTS of square dancing (claro, because Molly was there!). On Wednesday night, we celebrated Allie's early birthday (since it was unfortunately on the same day as graduation), and then I went to the 99 Days Party at FScott's. It was a lovely celebration of the sheer madness of 94 people who decided to sign their lives away to Tombs on February 13th, and it was nice to be a part of the exclusive little party.

On Thursday morning, I meandered over to the JesRes to meet up with my dad, who, as an alum, was robed and was a part of the alumni procession for Convocation. We took a few pictures (one of them ended up on the Commencement blog!):
http://commencement2010.georgetown.edu/2010/05/moms-and-dads-welcome-grads-into-the-alumni-family/#more-428
I then met up with a group of friends in Healy Circle for some pictures, and then we hightailed it over to the JesRes. The atmosphere was decidedly more joyful than that of two days later during Commencement. The first teary moment happened for me as we filed into McDonough and the alums stood clapping on either side. When I made eye contact with my dad, I lost it a little bit. I don't want to sound pretentious, like, "Well, I'm a quadruple legacy, I appreciate Georgetown more than you do," but when you know that someone in your family can relate to so many of the experiences you have had and has loved your school the way you love it, there is a sort of unspeakable bond. My dad was just beaming all weekend, and I could tell how much it meant to him to have me graduate from his beloved university. I give him credit for never once pressuring me to apply; the most he did was encourage me to apply when I was on the fence, saying that it can never hurt to try. He let me make the decision on my own, but I feel like some divine hand led me towards Georgetown. It was literally the best decision I have ever made in my short life to apply to this school and to then enroll. So that, whenever I had a particularly Georgetown-centric talk with my dad over the course of the weekend, I instantly burst into tears. To anyone who knows me well, I am a crier, but this weekend was especially emotional for me. Transitions and goodbyes are also not among my strong suits, so it has been a struggle over the last few days as friend after friend has left the Hilltop.

Okay, back to the festivities, because this post is already getting long...claro. I mean, it's me. Just look at my other blog if you want proof. So Thursday night. I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning playing beer pong at Cal and John's, and then proceeded to miss a couple of ceremonies (not completely necessary but too bad nonetheless) and worry my parents half to death. I woke up at 1:30 in a haze of drunkenness, confusion and mortification, the latter of which I have yet to recover from. But you know what? It was Senior Week. I'm not sorry I partied. I'm sorry for being an awful daughter, but not at all sorry I partied. Friday night was Senior Ball at Union Station (preceded by dinner at the Dubliner with my friend Julia, a friend and a fellow legacy- our dads rowed at Georgetown together and then coached crew until her dad passed away- who I have known since birth (she's 3 weeks older than me), as well as her family, which was indescribably amazing. The theme was "The Greatest Show on Earth", so there were circus-themed performers and Bollywood and Vegas-themed rooms, and I was just in awe. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. It was the most wonderful party I've ever been to. It was slightly overwhelming because of how many people were there- I had to look at each person and ask myself, 'Do I know them? Do I know them?'. But it was another great opportunity to spend time with friends, especially those among us who were not in the College and, thus, had separate graduation ceremonies.

Graduation day was the most surreal day of my life. It doesn't feel like it was 4 days ago, because each individual day, from about Thursday onward, has felt like two or three different days because of how jam-packed they've been. I was very subdued before the ceremony, as I tend to be when I'm anxious or upset. I ran over to talk to some people in another procession line, and when I talked to my friend Allison, I started to cry. That's when I knew it would be a long day. The ceremony was beautiful, and, unlike for the unfortunate Business and School of Continuing Studies students, the weather held out. Dikembe Mutombo, the former Georgetown and NBA basketball player (YAY!!!!!!!!!) and current philanthropist, delivered a nice commencement address, and then, as each individual student walked across the stage to receive the translation of their diplomas (which, in true Georgetown and Jesuit fashion, are in Latin), sounds of shouts and claps (and, on a couple of occasions, cowbells!) punctuated the air. I am proud to say that I did not trip while walking across the stage, and was delighted to see the smiling faces of Professor Terrio (my thesis advisor, who was sitting in the front row) and Dr. Porterfield, the latter of whom gave me a big hug. For the rest of the ceremony, I teared up occasionally, especially when we sang the Alma Mater. I had unfortunately lost my voice, due to a cold, lack of sleep and and an excess of alcohol, but, call me a Georgetown dork, those words had never meant so much as they did that day. And I just kept thinking about how lucky I am to have gone to Georgetown, to have been blessed with the friends I've made, the professors whose classes I've taken, and the experiences I've had. Those feelings were not unique to graduation day- in fact, I tell people that I am a true Georgetown dork because, when I walk through the front gates every morning, I get the most enormous smile on my face as I behold the Healy clocktowers in front of me. Hi, I'm Kristen, and I'm a Georgetown dork. And I couldn't be happier! Again, none of these feelings were unique to Graduation Day, but they were just amplified and mixed together with so many other emotions.

After the ceremony, I picked up my actual diploma on Copley Lawn. I cried when I looked at it for the first time. It is so beautiful, and to have this piece of paper confirming that I graduated from this, the school of my dreams, just puts the icing on the cake of my academic career. That isn't to say that I won't go back to school at some point, but no honor has ever meant as much as this diploma. I caught up with Allie, who was kind enough to lend me her phone so I could tell my family to come meet me. My dad was the first one there, and again, on went the water works. We took a plethora of pictures (and even I, the photo whore, was tired of taking pictures by the end), both with family and friends. Afterward, my cousin Amy and I went to Tombs so I could put the final nail in my 99 Days coffin. I ordered us some Hoya Blues because I thought it would be fitting (and, of course, another drink), and then we walked down to lunch at Sequoia. It was an amazing post-graduation celebration, and it was a wonderful mix of people, from our Lake crowd (Terry, the owner of the house, the Devlins and the Colligans), to family (my mom's sister and her family, and my dad's brother and his family) to past Georgetown grads (my dad, his roommate for much of college, and a fellow crew alum and coach). I have always had the model of those lasting Georgetown friendships because of my dad's continued involvement with the crew program, the Alumni Association and Hoyas Unlimited, but seeing the group of them there further solidified my desire to make my Georgetown friendships last, to still be friends with them 34 years later.

Saturday night and Sunday was just one continuous sobfest (on my part, but also for a couple of other friends). Even though many of us will see each other in 2 1/2 weeks for Kate's wedding, it may be awhile until I am reunited with other friends, whether they are friends I met freshman year or friends I have just started getting to know. Each goodbye was difficult, but I have to believe that, if those friendships are as genuine as I want to believe they are, all of us will put forth the effort to stay in touch. Even if it's just a phone call every so often or the occasional e-mail, Facebook message or GChat, I hope we remind each other how much we care, because it has really been the people I've met over these four years that have made the experience as dreamlike and ideal as it has been. I can't even begin to count the many blessings that I have been given in my four years on the Hilltop, but I want to thank you, dear readers (because I'm guessing that most of you reading this have some connection to me and to Georgetown) for making these last for years the most unforgettable years of my life. To all of you who happen to be part of the class of 2010, I love you all so much, and wish you the best, but let's never let it be too long since last we met....HOYA SAXA and MAY GEORGETOWN LIVE FOREVER!

Dress Rehearsal

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to witness my cousin Amy's graduation at JMU. Let me tell you, it's a whole lot more fun watching someone else's graduation than actually being the graduate!!! As I was sitting there, proudly watching my cousin walk across the stage, I sensed an almost suffocating feeling of dread coming over me, for the day, two weeks later, when I too would walk across a stage and become a Georgetown graduate. How did this happen??? Flash back to move-in day freshman year, when my family and I, after a training meal at Tombs (my first-ever Southwest Salad!) carted my shitload of stuff up 8 flights of stairs in Harbin Hall in what can only be described as the most miserable, oppressively hot August weather imaginable. I think I might have actually been fighting back tears as we carried boxes upon boxes upon crates upon bins of clothing, books and room furnishings up those stairs. I can tell you for a fact that I started crying during the first festivities of NSO, even before my family had left. I cried as I sat in mass on Sunday morning, the day my family was leaving me, the day I was expected to become a "real person" (oh, how quickly that definition has changed!). I was inconsolable as my family drove away, and I seriously think my parents were concerned about me for the first few weeks of school. That's how bad my homesickness was. I think I spent so much of first semester being homesick that I didn't take the time to fall in love with Georgetown.

I think the tide started to turn in September, when I met Allie, who lived on my freshman floor. I'm pretty sure we became friends almost right away, and we had breakfast together at Leo's every day before class. She, in turn, introduced me to some of her LAS friends, and many of those people (and their friends) are still my best friends on the Hilltop. Also, this is going to sound ridiculous, but once I found my group of basketball friends (which, granted, would change over the years), I knew I had found my niche. Believe it or not, I was not always a basketball fanatic, and didn't sit in the front row until the Marquette game of freshman year, but from there on, I knew that Hoya basketball would be a central tenet of my Georgetown experience, which it certainly has been! I think that I first knew I loved Georgetown when I made that group of friends and found that part of Georgetown that was my passion. I don't mean to suggest that it has been completely smooth sailing from there, but I went from sobbing incessantly that my family was leaving me to sobbing when faced with the prospect of leaving Georgetown someday. It has gotten to the point where 4 days at home for Easter, and even less than 48 hours away to go to Amy's graduation, has been a completely traumatizing experience. We give my New York relatives grief for practically getting the shakes when they venture outside of the New York metropolitan area, but I think I might actually be turning into them...I know that there is something to be said for the suburbs, but I think one thing I've learned about myself throughout my college career is that I'm a city girl!!!! So to go home to sleepy little Longmeadow or travel to the picturesque but less-than-buzzing Shenandoahs is a challenge- literally, as we were driving back into town yesterday, I got a huge smile on my face and said to my parents, "I love DC". This isn't to say that I wouldn't be happy in other cities, because I know there are many other cities around the globe where I would be happy, but I have really come to love this city and would count myself lucky to be able to live here for even a little bit longer!

So back to the graduation. I think the part of Amy's graduation that really got me choked up was when they played the Alma Mater. When they play my own (which, I'll admit, I sang along to each time my friends and I filed out of Verizon at the end of a basketball game), I know I'll cry. I have a feeling I'll cry at many points during the ceremony (tissues will be a must), and the day, in general, will be an emotional one. Because, even though I'll be here at least through the end of the summer, graduation day will truly mark the end of an era, with friends departing for all different corners of the globe and various career and educational futures, the end of 99 Days, the end of a largely responsibility-free life and the beginning of my transition into life as a "real person", the end of acceptable drunkenness on a regular basis (haha), the end of my career in the student section at Verizon. There are so many things that are ending, but, if you look at all of the clichés uttered in graduation speeches, we have so many things in front of us. I can't wait for Senior Week, which starts next Monday, which promises to be an unforgettable last hurrah with all of my friends, and all of the memories that I know will result. And I cannot wait to see what this next chapter holds for all of us!

The First of Many Sappy Georgetown Posts

As of today, there are- count 'em- 27 days until I walk across the stage (hopefully without tripping and falling flat on my face) and become a graduate of this fine institution. "Freaking out" does not even begin to describe how I'm feeling about graduation in this moment, because, honestly, I'm a mess of emotions. I thought I had crossed that threshold, leaving behind teary thoughts of leaving this place that has become my home and embracing all of the change that will come my way before I know it. But I still have many a teary moment (and will, undoubtedly, even after graduation) and moments to doubt, where I question whether I'm really ready to go out into the real world, to make adult decisions, and to leave the padded, secure little world that is the Hilltop. Am I ready to work a 9-to-5 (assuming I get one of those-still very much a work in progress)?

Can I bear to leave the Tombs? Because God knows it won't be acceptable, after I graduate, for me, the Super Senior, to creepily hang out there for hours on end like I do now while all of the younger kids think, 'Why doesn't the old lady find her own bar?'. I had a really emotional moment the other day, as I sat at the bar sipping my habitual lemonade, chatting with one of my favorite bartenders. I thought to myself, 'I'm so glad I did 99 Days.' There's something about walking into a place and being "conocida", as they call it in Spain, having everyone know your name. The bartenders and many of the waiters don't ask for my ID anymore, and I often don't have to ask to be put down for 99 Days, because they know that I'm one of the regulars. Tombs is like my Cheers, it's where everybody knows my name. And it has been the setting for the forming of new friendships and the deepening of old ones- hey, who cares if they may or may not be based entirely on a shared commitment to over-consumption of alcohol. My friends may laugh at my craziness (because, let's face it, you have to be a little crazy to commit to buying at least one food or drink item at the SAME BAR for 99 straight days!), but 99 Days has really brought my senior spring full-circle. I couldn't think of another place where I would rather celebrate turning in my baby, my monster of a thesis (76 pages in French, including bibliography and appendices!), especially with our usual Trivia crowd.

I guess this sort of turned into an "I Love Tombs" post, but whatever, it just happens to be on my mind a lot. There are certainly a plethora of other things I'll miss about Georgetown, but I'll talk about those in later posts!!!! My philosophy, though, is to live the next 27 days to the fullest and not take a single moment of this place I love and the people I love for granted. I don't want to be that woman who says, 'I wish I could be back in college again'- I want to have lived my experience to the fullest, so that I couldn't possibly top it!!!

In interesting news, I crossed two items off of my Georgetown bucket list: I sat in John Carroll's lap, and I frolicked in the Dahlgren fountain (granted, I felt like I was covered in parasites after the latter, but it was still more than worth it!).

Dating Rant #1

Okay, so I don't plan on making a habit of writing every day, but I was reading The Guide (The Hoya's weekly magazine, for those of you who don't know) yesterday while I was waiting to go into my job interview, and the dating column for that issue really struck me...so naturally I wanted to share it with the rest of the world! First of all, here's the link: http://guide.thehoya.com/node/387

The article is short and definitely worth reading, and sums up some of the confusion that I think a lot of us college girls have about dating. I have learned that trying to get inside a guy's head and figure out how the hell he thinks is literally the most useless exercise on the face of the earth, because while they proclaim to be easy to read, they are most certainly NOT! Now, I'm a pretty old-fashioned girl when it comes to dating, so I would say that guys should be the ones doing the pursuing, but, according to the author of the article, a lot of her guy friends were too "scared of rejection" to ask a girl out. What's this? Masculine insecurities? I used to think it was the male gaze (I hope Molly reads this!) that made girls insecure, but I'm learning, more and more, that guys are insecure too! I guess not wanting to be rejected is a valid concern, but it isn't an excuse for doing nothing, for dancing around the issue and playing with a girl's emotions.

Of course, there is also the classic "I'm not looking for a commitment" refrain- it seems like this excuse, or some variation of it, is rampant on college campuses. I do understand that it takes a certain degree of emotional maturity to be in a relationship, but what is the harm in asking a girl out on a date? The author echoes this sentiment when she says, "for those boys who fear that they will take a girl on one date and she will suddenly be doodling Mrs. John Smith all over the margins of her notebook, you ned a reality check. I'm sure you are charming and completely desirable, but one date does not mean you two will be getting engaged a week later. Perhaps, with time and after several dates, you will find yourself getting ore serious, but if you don't want it (even if she does), then it won't happen." This paragraph not only made me laugh aloud, but also caused me to nod my head in agreement at the newspaper spread out on my lap. She's right. Going on a date is not a one-way ticket down the aisle. You can make it as formal or informal as you'd like! And if you don't have a good time, you don't have to do it again! No one has a gun to your head!

This article seems to challenge the ideas put forth in the book (and much more pleasant film) "He's Just Not that Into You." The book, a relationship bible for some and the devil's book making you want to pound your head against a wall because of your own stupidity for others, says, in many more words than I would care to use here, that if he's not asking you out (or sleeping with you, marrying you, or taking some other step proving his commitment and utter devotion to you), HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU (I will tell you, the more you repeat this phrase, the more you start to believe it). But could it really be that he just needs a little encouragement, a guarantee from you, the object of his affection, that you will not reject him? If he's "not looking for a commitment" (a cover for immaturity and self-involvement???), he may be a lost cause, but could there be a glimmer of hope (I hope Lauren is reading this part) for the timid guy?

This is one reason why I'm glad to be leaving college soon...and I just have to say, I'm having a Carrie Bradshaw moment writing this post.