GUEST COLUMNISTS: Reflecting on an undergraduate life

I am no longer a part of the Class of 1997, but rather a belated member of the Class of 1996. I have matured, both mentally and physically, but something still scares me about entering the "real world." Graduating early really struck me most when I suddenly didn't have to register for classes anymore. I can still vividly picture my freshman year; I remember struggling through using PARIS the first time. I recall how easy it was to meet other people, and how simple it was to be friendly. I remember sweating it out when it came to Maple for math assignments, and being lost during the first week of classes; eating way too little Dining Services food and way too much Chinese food from the notorious Le Ahn trucks; my first date, my first kiss, all that other good stuff. I remember my first football game, not knowing the words to the school songs, but pretending I did and mumbling anything stupid to make believe. I can't believe I'm graduating so soon. I recall walking around in big groups like flocks of sheep, which identified us as freshmen right away. I remember experiencing big-time culture shock, and realizing what being "on my own" really meant. People are certainly defensive about their space, I learned, unless they're drunk. At one time, I actually felt glad to be away from home, but now I miss my family more than ever. I can't believe I'm graduating in a few weeks. What has really gotten to me is seeing people I once partied with all suited up, giving company presentations and trying to convince us their firm is better than the rest. I still remember the awe and respect I had for students who came to class dressed in power suits because they had interviews. My turn has come, but nevertheless I feel strange, out of place. I pray that in the very near future it will be me giving the same corporate spiel. I recall feeling queasy when I was asked to show proof of age before entering any social hangout -- except Murph's, obviously -- and I feel old. As I walk down Locust Walk, I see people I used to know, and the memories come rushing back. It pisses me off that they pretend they don't see me and walk right by instead. Why is it so hard to be friendly now? I'm afraid I will never see them anymore, or that the few lasting friendships I've sown over the years will be ultimately lost once we're out of here. I can't believe I'm graduating this month. Keeping in touch never seemed as important as it does now. Graduating means moving to a new place, seeking new friends, building an entirely new social circle around work. It means that I have to grow up to the point of starting all over. It's something we will all go through eventually; I just wasn't planning on doing it before everybody else. Finding a job is no fun. But once you've got one, the fun starts all over again. And then you find that special someone, and the fun really starts. And then you get married, and the fun stops. Several of my friends, not too much older than I, are actually married with children. I love kids, but I'm a kid myself. Deep inside, I think I will always be. I'm proud of Penn and what it has given me, instead of taking from me, for a change. College is definitely a short-lived experience. Enjoy it as much as you can. I have.