By: Blake Reichenbach, Contributor
Well, kiddos, we have reached a point in our college careers where we must face the inevitable.
All good things must come to an end. So must all bad things. Basically, all things come to an end at some point. While I hope that did not trigger an existential crisis for you, I hope it puts things into perspective.
Brace yourselves… I am about to graduate.
Don’t cry. Wipe away the tears. You may still see me around. Realistically, you probably won’t. But you may, and that should give you hope for a brighter tomorrow. To make your transition into life after Blake has done did done doing college (I know that’s a tense thing to think about), I thought I should give you a dash of parting wisdom, two cloves of finely grated garlic, a pinch of salt and pepper, and all heated over medium heat until it’s a charming golden brown.
Second, be innovative and don’t be afraid to switch things up.
First, always start with the basics, whether speaking colloquially or about undergarments.
Third, look for opportunities to rhyme. It’s always time, whether or not you’re a mime, squeezing a lime and trying to save a dime.
Fourth, avoid making long, numbered lists. That’s so passé. I don’t know what passé means, but knowing things is passé, too.
That’s all you get of lists. See number four on the grand list if you’re curious as to why. Because lists are last season, I’m going to move onto paragraphs. As someone who has worked for three years in writing, I know that paragraphs are important. There’s something so sensual about a shapely paragraph, organizing words into carefully crafted, tight little glimpses of wisdom. And don’t even get me started on semi-colons! So curly, yet solid.
I also stopped doing the list because I wanted to say a bit about how it feels to be graduating. Have you ever eaten a grapefruit? You cut it in half, sprinkle a light dusting of sugar over the top before you dive in with your spoon, lift each ethereal blossom of citrus joy to your lips, and let the cool juices trickle down your throat. Well, graduating is nothing like that. I just really like grapefruit. And I really like that I’m graduating.
It has been great, BU, but it’s bye-bye time for me. You’ve got your things going on, and I’ve got mine. You’re constructing new buildings, and I’m working at a university. You’re investing in neat chairs for the library at the cost of an actual reference section, and I’m building my book collection. We have different goals, and they no longer match up. We’ve put up with each other’s shenanigans for four years—me putting up with your exorbitant costs and frustrating policies, you putting up with my potentially controversial nature. It’s not you, it’s me. Goodbye, BU.
And to the people at BU, don’t let my divorce from our shared alma mater sadden you. You little buttercups who scurry through the halls have been absolutely grand. I mean, not everybody is as grand as the members of the English or Sociology department faculties, but some of you come close. You’re alright. Well, at least decent. You are totally okay, and your okayness is okay enough, I suppose.
As for me, have no fears about what lies beyond. I’ll always be a frantic loon with a computer, doing what I do.