Done

Yeah, done. That's the word that's been flying through my brain all fucking day long. Well, except the four-hour chunk when I took a nap. My last final ended at about 9:15 A.M. on this glorious day of 5-5-5. Done. I know it's only temporary, since I've got two classes scheduled for the summer and then the most intense year of my life starting in August, but I can't help but think it. Done. Four years of my life have passed, I've learned little to nothing, but it's over. Done. Wahoo.
It's funny because I think I'm the only person I know who has actually finished their degree in four years time. All the people from back home haven't finished yet, even people who started a year ahead of me are still working toward their degree. Not me, though. Done. It's just weird, I guess. For four years I've been working toward this degree without really seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that is my undergrad career. Now that it's here, it hit me like a brick wall this morning. Done. Wow. Done. It's just plain, fucking amazing. Done. Heh.
It's also been the most memorable four years of my life. I've met new people who have become like brothers and sisters to me. I've lost contact with people who I thought would always be in my life. I've held a full-time job for the first time in my life and at times loved and hated it. I've gotten to taste what my future career is going to be and loved it for the most part. I've drank with professors and bullshitted (one or two "t"s? Both look odd to me) my way through countless papers. I've written about crap that means nothing to me and also found ways to write about television shows or movies that I love. I finally learned how to drive and love the freedom that it's given me. I've met women that made my jaw drop because they looked so good, yet, to borrow a line from Rod Stewart, I wouldn't let them tie my shoe, I wouldn't give them the time of day. I've watched friends from back home grow into young men and women, making me feel much older each time I go back there. I have friends here who I may never see again once I hit grad school and then go wherever the wind blows me. I said goodbye to one such person today and that's affected me more than I think I could have known. There are friends who I started these four years with who disappeared along the way, new friends who came along, and old friends who have been with me the whole way. There were days were I know without my friends I would never have made it, friends who pulled me through, and I hope to God that I have been a good enough friend to return the favor when they needed me.
I really want to think that I haven't changed since I first came to college, that I'm still that 18-year-old guy at heart. I know that I'm not. I've become much more cynical than when I started. I've learned that what I'm told is important in life is not always so. I know now that going to every single class is not necessary. In some instances, one doesn't even need to go to class and can still survive. Grades aren't everything, as I once believed. Also, old friends are nice, but new ones can be even better. I'm glad I learned that one early.
Done. It's a remarkable word. I've already checked out. I'm done, you see. I've got a few days off and then work starts, but until then, I'm done. God, it feels good. Done. Heh.
So, anyway, the SotP from two times ago was America's Sister Golden Hair. It's a nice song with a good set of lyrics overall, but it's the chorus that speaks to me the most. Very, very few people know this (meaning me and whoever reads this), but I kind of came to this university because of a girl. See, back in the dark ages of my senior year in high school, I fell for this one girl who, for the sake of anonymity, we'll call Messica. Now, see, Messica and I really got along well and really clicked. I had planned to go to this other college, but Messica was going somewhere else. I felt very confident about what the two of us kind of had, so I sent of an application for where she was going and didn't send one to the other place. So, I got accepted. Yeehaw, right? Well, that's when things with Messica took a turn. As in the big silent treatment where neither of us spoke to one another for about a year. The rest of the story with Messica is a big ol' mess that can be another post. This relates back to the song because for the first, oh, I'll say month of the silent treatment, I was really hurt. Not going-off-to-join-the-military-so-I-could-kill-people hurt, but just heartbroken, I guess. So, when listening to music, I found Sister Golden Hair. Meet me in the middle, meet me in the end, love me just a little, just enough to show you care. That summed up things with Messica perfectly. Now, I didn't listen to the song nonstop or anything, but it did become a reminder of things for that next year. So, yeah, there's a new bit to fill in the big empty puzzle that is my life.
But what do I care? I'm done.
Song of the Post: "I have my ship / and all the flags are aflyin'. / She is all that I have left, / and music is her name."