COLUMN: 'The real world is scary'
As a kid, I had a very active fantasy life.
My earliest, which resulted in plenty of jeers from my fellow students, was the notion that I was on an alien planet, sent from my home planet to fulfill some intergalactic prophecy and save the world from doom.
It might sound like a rip-off of Superman, but it wasn't. I didn't wear tights, no maniacal corporations were out to kill me, and Jesus was a character in my fantasy, just don't ask me how he fit in.
In third grade, a deranged Russian criminal broke into our school and used mind-controlled rats to gather parts for a large explosive, which was being held in the library janitor's closet.
In fourth grade, our school was attacked by moth men.
This is the same kid, by the way, who in two semesters, might graduate from college. How in the hell does that happen?
It's not like I don't have plans, I have, in intimate detail, concocted plans to fake my own death. Don't believe me? I published it.
I might also travel to Europe or join the Peace Corps. Do my best imitation of Hunter S. Thompson. Travel the Amazon rainforest. And if all that somehow falls through, I might even use my hard-earned degree and get a job.
But I hope not. Not yet. I'm not ready. The real world is scary.
This place used to be scary. With it's 480-acre campus, cramped residence halls, endless frat parties and overabundance of people. I was dazed, confused and lost for the first two years I was here.
But it feels kind of like home to me now.
The soft, ember glow of Moore Hall. My apartment now a sort of riotous sanctuary. The straggling 20-somethings wandering around perpetually at all hours seem the perfect kind of neighbors.
As soon as one finds a home, it slowly crumbles. That's the essence of life. Among with about 56 other things.
What do I feel about being a senior this year? It's expected. It's new. It feels like well-treaded territory.
It's going to come with great successes and a handful of 'come to Jesus' moments. The parties will be monotonous. The companionship will be rejuvenating. I'm expecting the ride of my life, and when next year comes, granting everything goes right, I'll be somewhere else and lost again.
Commence Elton John's "The Circle of Life."
I rarely ever try to form a connection with anything, but Central Michigan University is where I've learned my most important lessons.
Pride might come before the fall, but it's also needed for the rise. Nobody knows what they're doing, so don't get so overwhelmed. Always take risks in the right places. And liquor is overrated. Try craft beer.
During my internship at the Times Herald in Port Huron this summer, one of their reporters I worked with asked me what I learned from the internship. I meekly responded that I hated that question.
"At the end of my first internship, I learned how much I appreciated school," she said.
Damn it, she's right.
