2008 Woodie Awards
College good, but best still to come
By Markia Mills
Rocket Advertising Manager
Issue date: 4/15/05 Section: Opinion
College. Four years, if you're one of the lucky few who finish in four years, that are said to be the best years of your life. As graduation quickly approaches (and I cope with senioritis) I can't help but reminisce on my time here at the Rock and in Western Pennsylvania.
Soda being called "pop" (it's soda for the record), French fries on salads, BURGH vs. BURG, Steeler fans, a university and a town actually called Slippery Rock, hills and trees, trees and hills - it's a weird place to say the least. I've grown accustomed to the strangeness of this area and this university and even though I hate to admit it, I'm going to miss it.
I still can't help but wonder if these really were the best years of my life. Of course, I'll never again in life be amongst thousands of my peers, with no real responsibilities (bills...? What are those?), with the ability to fix my schedule so that I don't have to be up before 10 a.m. or spend my last $20 on alcoholic beverages because, well let's face it, there is no better way to blow that kind of money in Slippery Rock (vodka anyone?).
The best years of my life. Nope, I don't think so. Don't get me wrong, it's been fun, but I wouldn't say the best. Of course, college is what you make of it and maybe I just didn't make the most of it.
Now before some of you jump to conclusions, make assumptions and label me as a boring, friendless, alcoholic individual (I know you were thinking it), let me assure you that I am none of the above. For a while, I was attending most, if not all, of the university events and programming. I attended some college parties. But after a while everything just got boring and redundant, or maybe I grew up. There's a thought.
For the most part I feel that I have had the same experiences as most individuals at Slippery Rock University and universities and colleges across the country. I've met people that will, without a doubt, be lifelong friends; I met my first true love (I still love you) and had the opportunity to be taught by great professors (and some awful ones).
When May 7 comes, as I walk across the stage I'll also be crossing a threshold, closing one door behind me, and stepping into a hallway filled with doors. The best is yet to come.
Soda being called "pop" (it's soda for the record), French fries on salads, BURGH vs. BURG, Steeler fans, a university and a town actually called Slippery Rock, hills and trees, trees and hills - it's a weird place to say the least. I've grown accustomed to the strangeness of this area and this university and even though I hate to admit it, I'm going to miss it.
I still can't help but wonder if these really were the best years of my life. Of course, I'll never again in life be amongst thousands of my peers, with no real responsibilities (bills...? What are those?), with the ability to fix my schedule so that I don't have to be up before 10 a.m. or spend my last $20 on alcoholic beverages because, well let's face it, there is no better way to blow that kind of money in Slippery Rock (vodka anyone?).
The best years of my life. Nope, I don't think so. Don't get me wrong, it's been fun, but I wouldn't say the best. Of course, college is what you make of it and maybe I just didn't make the most of it.
Now before some of you jump to conclusions, make assumptions and label me as a boring, friendless, alcoholic individual (I know you were thinking it), let me assure you that I am none of the above. For a while, I was attending most, if not all, of the university events and programming. I attended some college parties. But after a while everything just got boring and redundant, or maybe I grew up. There's a thought.
For the most part I feel that I have had the same experiences as most individuals at Slippery Rock University and universities and colleges across the country. I've met people that will, without a doubt, be lifelong friends; I met my first true love (I still love you) and had the opportunity to be taught by great professors (and some awful ones).
When May 7 comes, as I walk across the stage I'll also be crossing a threshold, closing one door behind me, and stepping into a hallway filled with doors. The best is yet to come.
