that's the last ticket i'm ever gonna buy

Tonight, at my last sorority meeting after walking out of my last undergraduate psychology course this afternoon, I looked at my Bff and she looked at me and we immediately understood each other. Both dashing for the screened porch to smoke cigarettes in the presence of one another, we wanted nothing more than to cry, but we didn't.

The graduation wall is now more like a fence. I can see to the other side, but the grass is definitely not greener over there. I want it to be, but it's not. I went home last weekend, you know, to that place where I'll be living for the next six months of my life with no goals or clear destinations in sight other than wearing a Publix uniform. I have a new found understanding and appreciation for children. Children with whom I enjoy spending my time pondering J.K. Rowling's information processing with, not that they understand information processing (but at least I can blog after the general conversations are over). Listening to my mom talk about my childhood in the kitchen late Friday night, was sobering. I hope there's not more of that in a few weeks. I mean, I guess what I'm trying to say is that while the grass is indeed green at home (there's food to eat and a bed to sleep in and cool kids to chill with and a job that pays decent money); the grass in Sewanee is always green with things to learn and information and fresh experiences at my fingertips. I will miss that part of this side of the wall/fence situation.