The beginning of the end.

Four years ago, I embarked on this thing called college.  I had no idea what it really was.  Heck, I could barely understand the difference between a bachelors, masters or a doctorate!  Originally, I was supposed to be in music school and aside from a few english and math classes, I expected to live with my flute and piano for the duration of my undergraduate degree.  Cough, sputter, choke. That's obviously not what happened; God clearly had other ideas for my life.

For starters, college has taught me that life doesn't always go as planned.

I didn't graduate when I should have. I should have been done this past spring, but my diploma will read 2012. I've just been telling people that I love school that much.

Graduation day aside, when I DO receive my diploma in April, I will be a "sociologist". What's a sociologist? I will commit an academic sin and quote wikipedia:

"It is a social science—a term with which it is sometimes synonymous—which uses various methods of empirical investigation and critical analysis to develop and refine a body of knowledge about human social activity."

Didn't get that? As a sociologist, half of it's blabber to me as well, so don't worry.  Essentially, when I walk across the stage at convocation, I'll be a sociologist who is certified in observing people (aka: creepin'), conducting interviews (qualitative sociologists, holla!), surveying the masses (quantitative sociologists, I don't know how you can stand this stuff) and then some. I'll be educated, or something like that. A far cry from music school, no?

But ya know education-schmeducation aside, I've learned some other random, yet valuable, lessons:

Professors make mistakes.
You will forget to submit an assignment (and you will survive).
Class gets canceled every great once in a while.
Three jobs sometimes suck your spare time.
Somehow, you find time for extra curricular activities (like literally running yourself dead by participating in cross-country).
Sometimes you transfer to another school.
You don't receive the grade you thought you deserved.
Your major changes once or twice (or three, four and five times).

The doors I once was scared of are now familiar (I really hate the squeaky doors).  That intimidating professor?  Yeah, she's writing my letter of recommendation.  The borderline psycho professor I swore I'd never see again?  Um yeah, about that. She's my boss now. Those unfamiliar faces?  We're friends.  And today marks the beginning of the end of all that.  I didn't expect to encounter any of it, but it happened and now it's going to end soon.  And it's bittersweet.  College wasn't so scary after all.