Okay, here it is..

The day that we've all been waiting for.
Can you guess it?

Well, I guess it's not that day... YET. But still.
It's coming.
And super fast.

Graduation. From college. Holy crap.
I'm going to be a graduate. An alumnus. Forever an adult.
And it's so hard to believe.

I'm curious how the time went by so fast.
It feels just like yesterday I was packing up my things
and going to college, leaving home for the first time.

I was terrified.
Everyone has that fear that they're not going to make friends.
They're going to be alone.

Right away, I realized I wouldn't have the feeling.
The girls on my floor were the coolest people ever.
And my roommate was just like me.

I got so lucky.
Those girls are still some of my really good friends.
College wouldn't have been the same without them.

I can still picture our dinner table.
With 16 maximum at one of those small round tables.
With trays, no doubt. We had to learn to live without elbow room.

It was nice, finding friends that are just like you, yet completely different.
Each has their own personalities, but we're all alike in some ways.
Mostly, we're all just loud.

There are two people on this campus I can truly call my best friends.
They're like sisters to me and I don't know what I would do without them.
Seriously, I would be a completely different person without them in my life.

It might sound corny, but you do meet lifelong friends at college.
I know I have. I have the best friends anyone could ask for
and they're not going anywhere. They will always have a place in my heart.

Sure, high school friendship are still there, but it's not the same.
Bonding in college, over late-night study sessions and random adventures to Walmart,
You just can beat that. Those experiences stay with you forever.

No matter where I go in life, what I do, who I meet, these people that I met here..
The ones I truly call my friends,
Will stay with my the rest of my life.

I came into college completely lost.
I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life
And I was confused.

My major was "Undeclared" and I took the most random classes.
Everyone said, "Oh she's just exploring. She'll figure it out."
It took me awhile, but I did finally figure it all out.

I think it was the influence of my freshman year roommate.
She told all about this "Intro to Comm Arts" class she was taking.
I thought.. hey, what the heck. I'll take it to.

And I fell in love with it.
Sometimes I wonder if I should tried something more practical.
Computer Information Systems or Financing. Heck, even Organic Chem.

Some major that would get me a high paying job
and leave me secure for life.
But it would have bored me to tears.

I love writing and it's something I've been doing since I was a wee tot.
There was no way I was giving it up.
Just for a big paycheck.

They say you come to college to get a better job.
Make a better life for yourself.
Get the fancy degree.

All that is important, I'd agree.
But I think people should come to college to find themselves.
Find their passions.

Before I ventured to school, I was.. hmm what's the right word?
Well, I wasn't unique.
I was trying to fit in with everybody else. Be cool.

That's what high school is about.
Fitting it. Be like everyone else.
Be popular.

Everything's different in college.
Sure, there are cliques.
But it's cool to be different.

And that's what I found here, at Wartburg.
I found that I don't have to be like everyone else.
I don't have to conform to what others like.

I can be myself and people actually like me for it.
I can do things just for me and love it.
I found the real me here, the one I'd been searching for for a long time.

Sure, I'm going to miss this place.
And the people.
And the fountain.

Waking up to the smell of chocolate.
I can walk anywhere in under ten minutes.
People clean my bathroom.
Meals are prepared for me.
I can be walking across campus and say hi to ten people.
Laying on the ground and not worry about looks from others.
Feeding squirrels.
Chasing squirrels.
Midnight walks on the bike trail.
Breakfasts at Perkins.
Caramel Cocoas.
The Mensa, yes I said it.

But overall, I'm just going to miss the people.
My professors, my favorite staff members.
My roommates, my friends.
My best friends in the whole world.

I am going to miss this place.
No matter how much it cost me each year.
And that I'll be in debt until I'm 60.
I don't care.

I had the time of my life here.
This place has been home for me for four years.
It will forever be my alma mater.

The next time I write, I'll be a college graduate.
Wish me luck!
I hope I don't cry too much.

Driving down memory lane..

Recently I found a list of 80 tips to help you journal. I posted it on my Tumblr
http://mookiefaye.tumblr.com/ if you wanted to check it out.  I thought I'd tackle one today.

One that really stood out to me was: Describe your first car.
I really don't know why, it's not like my first car was amazing and super new. On the contrary.
When I'm a parent, my kid's first car is going to be like mine, a junker.

Earl was a 1989 Ford Mercury. He looked something like this, white with rust everywhere.

Yes, his name was Earl. I loved him. He had a personality, I know how he worked. He and I were a pair, like best friends. I could always rely on him. All my friends were having car trouble with their newer cars and I just kept thinking, "Ha! Earl runs just fine and he could be your car's grandpa." Well, it's true.

 A teenager's first car is extremely important to them.. They no longer have to rely on their parents for rides, a true taste of independence. I felt like that too. With your own car, you can go places... literally.

But I was never embarrassed by Earl because he was mine. I made him awesome. What I think is funny is that my parents and siblings even called him Earl. It just fit. He was a cranky old man. It was wonderful.

Earl even came with me to college! He only made it to freshman year though. My parents decided that I should sell him and they'd give me their old car (a 1998 Chevy Cavalier.. a huge step up). I'm not going to lie, I was sad. I knew that Earl had to go, but I didn't want him to. He'd been with me since I was 16 and now he was leaving to be with some stranger. Someone who might not love him like I did. Might not treat him as well. Could crash him the next day and he'd really be gone forever.

I originally put him up for sale and no one wanted him. I got no phone calls or anything. I thought to myself, "Yes! I can keep him!" As soon as I got my hopes up, someone called.

"Hi, I'm calling about the Mercury in the swap sheet. Is it still for sale?"
I wanted to yell into the phone "NO! HE'S MINE! YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM" but I didn't.
Four days later, the man came and picked Earl up and handed me $200. (I only got half, $100 went to my parents). I remember standing there on the street, watching a stranger pull away in my car. He turned the corner and then Earl was gone. Just like that. He'd been in my life for three years and poof. Gone. I think a tear might have slide down my cheek.

 We'd had some good times together.

Want to hear some Earl stories?

1) We ran over three of those orange traffic cones. It was late at night, I'd say around 11:00 and I had just gotten back from a track meet. I was tired and I just wanted to go home, plus I was one of the last people leaving the school. There were traffic cones all over the parking lot because they were doing construction. I didn't really notice them until they were stuck under Earl. I mean stuck, they were not moving at all. I thought my life was over and I was stranded in the school parking lot. A nice boy came over and helped me get them out. We became friends afterward. I never really thanked Earl for that.


2)I hit my own car. To clarify, I hit my new car with my old car (before I knew my new car would actually be my new car). I live on the end of a small town, with my driveway facing a side street. We park in the driveway and on the street next to it. Well, Earl was parked in the driveway and I wanted to go somewhere. My mom had parked her Chevy Cavalier (my new car) and I didn't really notice it. I put Earl in reverse and gunned it, slamming right into my mom's car with enough force to actually move it a few feet. Yeah, my dad wasn't happy about that. The dent is still there too. I laugh every time I see it. I reminisce and think about Earl. I miss the old fuddy duddy.

3) I often forgot to shut my lights off. I don't know what it was about Earl, but kept forgetting to shut his lights off. The little button was there, all I had to do was pull the button out but I just never did it. My dad got a lot of phone calls. Or I asked a lot of strangers to jump my car.
"Dad, I have a problem."
"Where are you this time?"

"Hi, excuse me, can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure" "No" "What it is?" (depending on the person)
"Can you jump me? My car is dead"

4) My right windshield wiper never really worked. It would only clean about a quarter of what is supposed to. So when it rained, I was screwed.

5) We got stuck in the snow a lot. He had no traction on his tires whatsoever and we got stuck. I live in Iowa, so winters just stunk hard core.

There was a lot of this happening. In college, I had to park in a gravel parking lot on a very little decline/incline (basically I had to back up while going up a veeerrry small incline, but Earl knew it and rebelled).  One week we had a brutal snow/ice storm. So much snow, everything was covered in ice. It was time for break and I walked out to the parking lot to find Earl. He's white, he blended it. I tried to back him out of his spot, but he couldn't get the friction under his tires to go. I put sand down, nothing. More sand. Nothing. I shoveled snow. Nothing. After an hour and a half of sand and shovel, I was freezing and I'm pretty sure I had hypothermia and frostbite in my fingers. But somehow, miraciously, it worked. Earl must have known that I was losing hope and feeling in my phalanges  so he decided to cooperate. FINALLY!

Also, another snow story. I got stuck making a U-turn. In order to park on my street at home, I usually turn down the street and turn around at the end (it's not an intersection, but it simply just turns on the next street, no cross traffic or anything. Like a dead end, but only with one road on the left). The roads were completely snow covered and I went to turn around and I literally got stuck, blocking the whole road. I couldn't back up after I hit the curb. I had to go get my dad and have him get me out because Earl was not moving for me. Go figure.

I forgot to mention all the things that were wrong with him:
1. the driver side window didn't roll down (of if you got it down, it didn't roll back up)
2. the air conditioning didn't work
3. the heating didn't work
4. I mentioned the windshield wiper. Yeah, the stunk
5. the door in the back didn't open (behind the passenger)
6. I had a CD player, but if I put a CD in, every time I'd hit a bump it would skip (in Iowa, roads have lots of bumps)
7. the trunk had a mind of its own. Self explanatory
8. he ate gas like it was his job

Despite all of his problems, I loved Earl. I'm glad I didn't have a nicer car. Giving kids a super nice car that young is just dumb. They're probably going to wreck it anyway (I did not get in one car accident or hit one deer, fyi).

I could go on about him, but I should probably do homework. That's my Earl. I miss him sometimes. He had such a personality. My car now does not. It's just.. a car. It barely has a name (I call it Charlie, but he's not really a Charlie like Earl was an Earl). It's just not the same. I wonder where Earl is now... I hope not in the junkyard.