Hey friends, it’s been a while. I don’t write much anymore, which is on me. But, at the request of my sister, I’m back at my metaphorical piece of notepaper ready to talk.
Things are happening in my life. I think. Well, technically things are happening to everyone every day. But let me correct myself. Good things are happening in my life. I mean, right now, I’m halfway into an order of mozzarella sticks, and this might be the peak happiness a person can feel.
Eek, guys, I haven’t posted in a while. I’d like to say I haven’t been writing because my social calendar is bursting at the seams. But that’s not really the truth. I’ve had the time, I just haven’t been able to figure out what to write about lately.
When I started writing two years ago, I was living in London and having awkward encounters with foreigners, going on grand escapades, and making blog-worthy memories every day (multiple times a day). That blog basically wrote itself. Then I moved back to Boston and I tried to chronicle what it was like to be ending a big chapter of my life.
Wow. This is crazy. Just a few days ago, I had envisioned an entirely different type of piece I was going to write for you. I know you envisioned the situation differently too. But, even though it’s difficult to find the right words, I didn’t want to be silent, I didn’t want to sit and stew. I realized something important: nothing that happened on Tuesday night would change what I wanted to say to you.
Emptying out your drafts folder is kind of like dumping your purse out onto the table: If you weed out the old receipts, the random bobby pins, the usb port (with no corresponding cord), and the cough drops that mysteriously wriggled out of their wrappers, you’ll find something unexpectedly great that you had forgotten about entirely. Here’s what I found:
(You can make your own judgments about which of these are the hidden gems.)
Hey you know what’s fun about college? It keeps going on, even after you’ve graduated.
Okay, I’m not going to play dumb about all of this. I saw The Notebook, I know that all things have to end. But with move-in weekend happening now, it feels weird. Three months since I graduated Boston University, and I’m still waiting to hear what day I get to move back in and which classes I’m taking this fall. It’s weird when something that was such an important part of your life for so long just ends suddenly.
*To be read while Toto’s Africa plays in the background*
To any of you who read my previous post about my family, you will have heard a little bit about my twin sister’s volunteer trip to South Africa. Well, I’m happy to report that she has made it back on American soil and has officially won the title of ‘More Interesting Twin.’ It’s also possible that she always had this title. But, due to the fact she has no blog of her own (she’s far too busy and intelligent to ever voluntarily post this much personal information on the Internet), I thought I’d tell you all about her trip.
Aside from signaling the end of a Shakespearean comedy, a big family wedding also serves to bring family far and wide together. And on such a full sea were we then afloat. Okay, that’s already too many poorly-integrated Shakespeare references for this post– let me get to the point. Last weekend, I attended a classic Biggart family wedding.
For those of you who don’t know me or my family too well, let me tell you something about us: we know how to party. And that’s what a wedding is, after all: a huge party. My family loves to celebrate big, with synchronized dance numbers and conga lines headed in questionable directions, with aggressive requests for the DJ to play “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls and total domination of the photo booth. To paint you a picture of the kind of party it is, by the end of the night, odds are good that a cousin of mine will have removed his tie and tied it around his head. This is just who we are.
*Written while on a red eye to JFK*
It may have been a little naive of me to expect Tom Hanks to be in Seattle, waiting patiently since the early 90’s for me to show up and knock on the door of his houseboat. But the sleepless delirium of a six-hour, 8:00 a.m.-departing flight combined with the disturbingly fresh Pacific Northwest air tricked me into thinking that I might be welcomed to this city by Mr. Sleepless in Seattle himself. Sadly, it appears he’s moved forward with his life, I assume to New York City to live with and send mail to Meg Ryan. I suppose I’ll have to settle for Patrick Dempsey.*
*I should note that by the end of the trip, I had come to the disturbing revelation that neither Patrick Dempsey nor the rest of the cast of Grey’s Anatomy lives in Seattle. Let’s just call it one of the greater letdowns of my entire life and move on.
How have you been? Of course, I’m asking more out of politeness and courtesy than anything else. If I think back hard enough I can remember how you have been feeling lately, how I was feeling six years ago. Congrats on finally getting your braces off, by the way. Metal-free is the way to be, after all. I actually am writing with a purpose larger than just congratulating you on your metal-free existence. If you can tear yourself away from David Caruso and his sunglasses and whatever Sean Kingston song just came out, I want to tell you some things.
For all of the excitement and praise you receive on graduation day, no one ever thinks to warn you about how sad it really is to graduate. In between the “You did it’s” and the “We’re so proud of you’s” is just the most frightening mixture of nostalgia, fear and lack of control. I felt it yesterday, sitting at my dorm room window, looking over the field as the maintenance staff of Boston University cleaned up discarded water bottles, graduation ceremony programs and graduation caps that were thrown into the air one minute and then left behind the next.