Seniority rules

It seems like just yesterday I too was one of those babyfaced 90 lb freshmen. I remember I called my parents crying approximately four hours after they dropped me off, begging them to come back and get me— all in light of Frosh-O activities, which led me to believe Notre Dame was the lamest place in the world. Freshmen year was over in like four minutes, as was sophomore year. Junior year was an overwhelmingly surreal blend of travel, siesta and sangria and boom here I am back to reality. Well, not exactly. Our house is two people away from a brothel, and I think that so far it's lived up to its expectations.

It's really weird though because none of me feels any older or by any means have any more answers than I did when I was that freshman. A hefty number of books have been read on my part since then. Hundreds of pages have been written. Thousands of miles have been traveled, but do I feel any more ready for that daunting thing they call reality? Unless the next nine months do something to dramatically make me more mature I don't think I will be any more ready. Now I just look at all the kids running around campus with their laniards around their necks, introducing themselves to anyone who passes, carrying campus maps and trying to get into the bars with their jank fake ids. Not annoyed at all. I wish I were there again actually.

Went to Annie's for dinner tonight with Ellen. I am so lucky to have basically another mom so close. And I love South Bend still. Thanks to all the loyal reader(s?) esp those who loyally remind me to update.