Nov 10, 2005

Thirty Minutes and the Whole World Changes

The world spins as I write this. No, it's not the beer. This afternoon at a meeting with my advisor, the poet Elder, it was made apparent to me that I can graduate in the Spring of 2006. A degree in liberal arts and a degree in writing complete. May 7th symbolically marks the death of my time there. And many things run through my mind.

The campus itself, fenced in on all sides by nature: Corn fields, open pasture, and woods. There had to be two hundred geese chillin' by the pond this morning on the drive to school. They haven't gone south. As for the geese, their time is also near, and they must head south, break free from LC.

When I say there, or that place in describing school, I wanted to say "here" both times. It is my home. I am excited to leave. I don't want to leave. I have to leave. I want to leave. I don't want to leave. This is my current thought process . . . not really getting me anywhere, I know.

I think of the people, and good friends I've met. I think of the professors, some of whom I've held the greatest respect and admiration for than anyone in my entire life. The thought of not waking up every day, seeing their faces, talking with them, learning from them and connecting with them, brings tears to my eyes.

I will not cry on graduation day.

My final semester is looking to be a good one:

Internship on the literary magazine Seems.
Senior Project in Writing

They weren't going to offer advanced composition, but there are four of us who need it to graduate. That forces them to offer it. The benefits of a small, liberal arts college. Anyway, Elder, who normally taught the class, will be on sabbatical. And I learned today (another reason my world is spinning) that Tom Montag will be taking his place. Once again, the forces of time and space have brought us together, Tom, and I can't freakin' wait.

I am in a strange place right now, sitting here in my room. And in the words of the late Hunter S. Thompson:

"What now? What comes next?"