The End of the Orange and Black

Somewhere, within the past two days, I made the leap between high school senior to college freshman. Friday I went down to Behrend to schedule my first semester. English 15, Math 34, Earth Science, Newspaper practicum, comprative religons, intro to poly sci, first year seminar. I have no class that starts before 9, and I only have one night class a week, and that's newspaper, so it's ok. I then went home and bought bedding for the fall- yellow and orange. When you live in Erie, you make your room bright. I wonder how my roomie will feel about my giant Italian flag...

Then my graduation day. It's not exactly something you dream about your whole life, just the last half of your senior year. It's more of something that you see in a feel-good movie and you say to yourself "I'll do that someday. I wonder what it will be like. I wonder what I will be like."

There were some aspects of my graduation that you would never see in a movie. The waitress at Olive Garden asking if it was my 8th grade graduation. Trying to use the restroom in a dress and billowey gown. The kid on my left who was high so that he wouldn't be nervous for the ceremony. Spending 20 minutes getting nearly 400 kids in alphabetical lines. Hugging someone and getting the point of their motorboard in your eye or their tassle in your mouth.

But there were some Hollywood moments. 380 students clapping together, first slowly, then faster, until we broke into applause and cheers before the ceremony began. Standing behind the curtain until hearing my name, then breaking into the bright haze of stage light and adrenaline, walking confidently in 3-inch wedges, smoothly shaking hands with the right and reaching for my diploma with my left, all the while hearing cheers from family and friends. Hurling my cap in the air with my classmates in blatant defiance of the last school rule. Dancing up the aisle and out of the theatre with one of my best friends. Taking pictures in the blocked-off street full of penguin-gowned students and their parents.

It wasn't the happiest moment of my life, or the proudest or most monumental. But it was right up there. I wasn't sentimental at all- high school was good. But I'm the kind of person whose favorite holiday is whichever one comes next, whose favorite season is the one around the corner, whose favorite destination just down the road. I was just giddy and happy and proud. It was the moment of a long trip when you stop worrying about what you packed, what life you're leaving behind, what challenges will be ahead. You sit back and listen to the engines of the plane scream and watch the runway drop out from under you, and you feel the speed and the height in your stomach, and you're flying.

So, for the first time in my life, here's to the class of 2011.