I'll Be Just Like You... Only Better

Hi Friends!

I'm home sick today with the flu. So I figure, why waste this opportunity to share more of my crazy life with you?

Today's story hails from college.  This is a simple, short, and sweet story that gives you insight into the attitude that shaped my entire college career. Here we go!

I'll Be Just Like You...Only Better

During my first month or two on campus I totally thought my orientation leader was the bomb-dot-com.  Our college was a very small, Southern woman's college so there were a lot of unwritten rules (with girls, there always are).  My orientation leader lived in the senior dorms, which were completely off limits to little first years like myself.  Completely. If you wanted to walk through those French doors and partake in the magic of hanging out with seniors, you needed to be invited in and possibly escorted.  No lie.

Thanks to my orientation leader, I was one of two or three first years to get that invitation early on. I was 17 and new to college, so I totally felt like a badass. I was invited with my (then) best friend whom (for her safety) we will call Minnie.  Minnie was a total suck-up.  Unfortunately, when I hung out with Minnie, I became a suck-up too.

Despite this, all of the seniors all thought we were super cute. I mean, we baked them cupcakes.  Of course they liked us. One night, Minnie and I found ourselves invited to a party in the senior dorms.  This was a Big Deal. We were mere first years who had somehow been granted entry to a senior party within weeks of being on campus.  A number of our freshman classmates approached us to figure out how we did it (I blame the cupcakes).  Some classmates were jealous. Others couldn't care less. 


Minnie and I were in a whirlwind of first year controversy.  Obviously, this just made us feel twelve times more awesome than we did before.  


We holed ourselves up in my dorm room to figure out our outfits for the night and then we headed over to the party. It was crazy. The theme was Pimps and Hos.  You've heard of it, I'm sure.  However, remember, I was at a woman's college. I was 17 years old surrounded by girls in suspenders and slacks, zuit suits and mini skirts, plaid jackets and catsuits.  There was drinking and flashing and kissing and it was literally system overload.  I had to walk away.

Minnie and I sought refuge in my orientation leader's room. She was in there with her girlfriend and they were arguing.  After all of our evenings hanging out in the senior dorms with them, it kind of felt like mom and dad were having it out in front of the kids...only this time it was mom and mom. Girlfriend (GF) wanted to leave the party so she could study. Our orientation leader (OL) wanted GF to stay at the party until the sun came up.

GF:      "Baby, don't you want good grades?"

OL:      "Of course I do, but in twenty years, when I look back on my college career I'm not going to remember the paper I wrote at two am.  I will remember this night and partying with all of my friends."

Friends, I saw the words of OL as words of wisdom.  However, OL wasn't impressing me at all with her GPA. Obvs, she was going about this all the wrong way. Of course, friends and memories are super important.  But so is graduating and being proud of your GPA.

So from then on, I made a pact with myself: "You can never go below 3.0."  It became my mantra.  And wouldn't you know it, I graduated with a 3.26.  Is that phenomenal?  Of course not.  But you know, those drunken evenings spent at parties and hiding out from the Resident Assistants as they patrolled the dorms for drunken underclasswomen  led to friendships I wouldn't change for anything the world.

Fin

Today's point: Throughout life, make sure you allot time in your schedule to party