Sometimes a goodbye is happy. Sometimes a goodbye is sad. Sometimes you don't exactly know what goodbye means.
This time, I'm feeling a little bit of all three.
I'm graduating. From college.
Hold on, I have to write that again. I'm graduating from college.
They say they're going to give me the diploma and all.
I think I believe them.
I know, it's, like, kind of a big deal. Michael Crow even sent me an invitation to eat breakfast with him. Mmm, pancakes.
I bought the maroon cap and gown from the bookstore, I picked up the tickets for my family to see me walk across Gammage Hall (twice), and I got some tassels from the Student Services lady that are sure to rub it into everyone else that I'm a better student than them.
Maroon and gold. Summa Cum Laude. Look it up.
Four years. Has it really passed so quickly? I swear I was taking a beer bong at a party the other week. Oh wait, that's because I was taking a beer bong at a party the other week.
But I swear freshman year happened not too long ago. I remember sneaking alcohol into my Palo Verde West dorm room in a friend's cheerleading bag like it was yesterday. Thanks, Hessie.
Then we'd get trashed, later go to the parking structure for a quick session and end up wandering lost somewhere on campus.
Charlie, you know what I'm talking about. Remember that time when I picked you up from the Village and had to hose you down? Probably not. You were plastered. Yeah, that was fun.
All right, for stories the rest of you can follow, I guess sophomore year came next. I lived with the Hoof, my good friend who has since retreated to my hometown of Flagstaff.
At the University House. Where raging parties encouraged drunk, orgy-like behavior. Experimentation between beautiful women at the hottest campus in the country rocks.
And then junior year, living with five guys. Damn, you were slobs. Except for you, Rich. But really, it was one of the best years of my life, living with a solid group of friends who I know I'll stay close with for the rest of my life; and Brie and Guinness there to entertain us all day.
Now they tell me it's senior year. I live with a girl. Emily. But she's not my girlfriend. She's a great friend, who I've really enjoyed spending time with this last of my school semesters at ASU.
I still don't know what I'm going to do when I graduate. I think a lot of people can relate to that. But what I've realized lately is that it doesn't really matter. Things will work out. My fellow grads and I have achieved a major accomplishment, something only 27 percent of our population experiences.
A bachelor's degree.
That's part of the problem, though, isn't it? Why can't we change that? Why can't everyone afford a higher education and strive for a better life?
Too expensive, I guess. Too controlled. Or maybe too corrupted.
Still, I'm trying to get past it all, make my way to a better life to hopefully make a difference in the lives of others.
That's what it's all about, right?
So, here's some final advice: the Secret Garden's not that secret. It's between Matthews Hall and Dixie Gammage Hall. Check it out, but don't smoke there, you'll just get caught.
Park on the street by the church on Apache. There you'll find a small strip of the closest free parking on campus, but arrive early because it fills up fast.
Never schedule a class before 10 a.m., unless absolutely necessary. It will improve your grades immensely. Trust me.
Read The State Press or at least a substitute newspaper, stay involved and never worry about a rainy day. It's always sunny in Arizona.
Enjoy college as much as I have.
And if you ever see me walking down the malls on campus, say hi.
But for now, goodbye.
Ty Thompson was a journalism senior. Email him at: tyler.w.thompson@asu.edu.
