Spring Semester

At my school, the polar vortex is a daily reality. The North Country is experiencing one of it's harshest winters yet, with averages in the negative 20-30 degrees (F), and a highs barely meeting 0 degrees. We should be breaking into whole digit temperatures this weekend, which is ludicrous but exciting.  There's something to be said for long winters and the ability is has to bond us students together, whether it's the absurdity of having frozen eyelashes in three minutes, the creativity of board game nights when we don't want to leave the house, or the unwavering determination (idiocy) to make it to the bar! It's tough sometimes, but certainly survivable (if you're not slipping on unseen ice); a snow globe campus of endless skies blankets of snow.

Inaugural senior spring dinner with my housemates: lentil soup amped up with fall CSA collard greens, fried rice, and garlic mozzarella bread. Not pictured: the bottle of pink moscato we crushed.

I'm just about through my first full week back for winter/spring semester that is, unbelievably, my last. I'm caught in reminiscing mode quite often, and find myself reflecting on my experiences here over the last four years. However, I still have unfinished business here! I'm taking a Spanish oral expression course, picking up Chinese again (好极了！), finishing my honors thesis, interning with the University Communications department, and interning with RoosterGNN. All the organizational commitments will pick back up soon. There's some hefty decisions looming on the horizon, but more so hypothetical realities I'm not quite ready to rush. At the end of the day, I'm aiming to maximize fun. I mean, obviously I want to finish strong academically and take advantage of the brilliant professors and departments here, but also our free indoor climbing wall; going to Georgia for spring break with the Ruckus Bus; cooking dinner with my best friends; going out for beer on Mondays and Tuesdays because this is likely the last time they will cost $1; and just living these moments with the acceptance that after the end of May, things will never be the same.

As Sam would say, I'm not here for a long time, I'm here for a good time.

Listening: "Pompeii" by Bastille