Senior Year Blog: A letter from the News Editor

I don't really know how to describe the feeling other than -- and if you've ever spent your summers at sleep-away camp, you'll understand -- it's the same pit in your stomach when you realize you only have a week left at camp.

A week left with your favorite people in a place that is special to you for so many specific reasons; a place where you have grown -- in every sense of the word. A second home.

As a little girl, Camp Greystone was my haven, a place I've referred to and can only describe to those who have never been as "My Miracle in the Mountains." At 21, Richmond has become that place for me.

It has seen me laugh, cry, rejoice in new friendships and move on from the old; seen me through three majors and sleepless nights; it has shown me the world, and it has introduced me to the people who have forever changed me. And now we are faced with our last year. Who would have thought I would owe most of who I am to this small school hidden beneath the Virginia pines?

I can vividly remember driving to Richmond for the start of my freshman year. Mom and I packed my VW bug so tightly that you couldn't have wedged a single toothpick into the car if you tried.

The main topic of conversation was "You'll make your lifelong friends here, and you haven't even met them yet," and I can still replay the mental breakdown I had crossing the highway bridge into Nashville like it was yesterday. (Nashville is halfway between Oklahoma and Richmond, and I think at that point it hit me that I wouldn't be going home for months.) It's crazy to think now that I even worried for a single minute that I would be anything less than obsessed with Richmond or that I wouldn't find amazing people.

I could regale you with all of my favorite Richmond stories -- from the unbelievably embarrassing to the laugh-so-hard I thought I was getting really great abs stories -- but that would literally take me months to write, and nobody wants to read about the time I face-planted off the North Court steps (sophomores, keep an eye on those -- you won't always remember they're there). Or the time Dad sent the URPD on a search and rescue mission because he thought an airport taxi man had kidnapped me. Or the time I unknowingly sat on a chocolate chip and then proceeded to sit front row in yoga class -- yes, I would like to refer to that instance as 'That Time Markie Sharted on Herself and Then Thought it was a Good Idea to Go Into Downward Dog.'

During the past three years, I have captured way too many memories and pictures with so many important people that it would be unfair to single out my 'favorite' stories. My entire Richmond experience has been my favorite story. But I will say this...

-To the police officer who jump-started my car five times in one month: Still don't know your name, but thank you. Your services were greatly appreciated in my times of need.

-To the Spanish professor who let me implement 'Trinket Wednesdays' into our weekly academic schedule: Your willingness to let me think outside the box embodied everything I believe a great teacher should be. (And you have to admit, we all exchanged some pretty cool items of extreme importance that semester.)

-To the girl who smashed in my left taillight freshman year: I wish you a life free of vehicle problems.

-To the art teacher I told, quote, "You make me want to jump off an effing cliff." Thank you for the A.

-To the Core teacher who told me I wasn't a good writer: My columns can be found between pages 7 and 10 of The Collegian.

-To the professor who made me go cry on the journalism toilet: Thanks for the guidance and letters of recommendation.

-To the D-Hall worker who brought back Cracklin' Oats to my daily food pyramid: I'd like to shake your hand and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

And to those who've been alongside me on this life journey: Thank you. You're the exact people I prayed I would find.

What are the chances each of our life compasses pointed us here? You've taught me endless lessons, been with me through the ups and downs, shown me what does and does not matter, what I do and do not want to become and have helped me find the pure joy of life.

Each of you has brought me unparalleled happiness -- from my special Russian goddess of a roommate, to my Rapunzel-haired Jewish best friend, to my Straight on Till Morning, to the Southern Belle with exceptional rapping skills, to the future Dodger, to the ones who have graduated and will one day be on late-night TV, and to the 541 others. As I stated earlier, I owe much of who I am to you, and you have forever left your fingerprint on my world.

If you are reading this, I truly hope you have found the same unparalleled love and joy from this place, and that this experience has been everything you have wanted it to be and more. I hope someday in the future you will look back on your four years here and see the imprint this institution has left on your life -- and more importantly, how the people who impacted you here have forever influenced you there.

If you're a freshman reading this, you get a lifetime supply of hugs from The Collegian staff for picking up the first issue of the paper, and I genuinely pray you cherish every moment this crazy journey is going to face you with. It won't always be easy, and the challenges won't always be fun, but before you know it you'll blink and your next cap and gown will be a fast ticket into the real world. So hold on.

Here's to senior year. Cheers.