"Hail, Alma Mater! To thee our heads bow down."

Particularly as a senior living in a townhouse right next to the golf courses, I've realized that St. Lawrence is basically a country club. I have no shame in admitting so because it's been source of some of my best memories, experiences, and favorite people from these last four years. After finals week, most of the underclassmen departed and then we had campus to ourselves for Senior Week! It's all went by too quickly, but our class sponsored events like a casino night, a faculty and student barbecue, beer and wine tasting, a first year program reunion, cocktails with adivsors, and a plethora of drunken, outdoor activities before families arrived on Friday. That's when it all became more real.

Lazily canoeing down the Grasse River!

I made watercolor cards for a close professors.

Signs of spring in the campus trails.

I cooked some fiddlehead ferns and wild endives! Residual knowledge from the singular science course I took at St. Lawrence called The Natural World :).

Another perk of attending a small school is that professors may remember and like you, even if you only had one class with them your first year. Then invite you to their house to feast and figure out how they can help you in your next steps. Thank you, Fred!

My parents were up at the end of the week for academic inductions and socializing.

Normally these cherry blossoms appear before final exams, but they were 3 weeks late. It made a perfect background for graduation, so better late than never!

I'm grateful that this is campus I said goodbye to.

The bagpipe guard performs every beginning and end of the school year. It gets me every time.

The blur that was the graduation ceremony...

Grace Potter, of Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, graduated in my class because she received an honorary degree! She spoke to us about finding love and making sacrifices. Her speech was featured on the Huffington Post.

The final photo with my townhouse 501 roommates. As you may know, goodbyes are terrible for me. I was packing and zipping around in a frenzy of disbelief, until it had to happen. These ladies are beautiful, and I wish them all the very best. I know it won't be the last time we're together!

Proud parents!

Here I am, squeeing with my degree and my dear Global Studies adviser, one of the many outstanding faculty I've had the honor to learn from. I'm really proud of what I've achieved in four years, and hopefully it can be quantified and translatable in the non-academic world as I head down a new path. St. Lawrence was everything it could be for me, and I'm torn to have to go. But, at least as a Laurentian alumnus, I've gained a lifetime membership to the country club!! 

"We will sing thy praise through endless days, for the Scarlet and the Brown."

"And when college days are over, From this Hill we've wended down"

So what’s it like to finish college? 

To hand in that final assignment, to make that final presentation, shake the hand of your professors and walk out the class room door, without looking back at the people who have been so pivotal to who you are today? To start saying good bye to the class mates who you've grown with across four years, and the underclassmen that inspire and remind you of what you were like?

It’s anticlimactic, yet incredibly relieving. This afternoon I defended my honors thesis to a panel of some of my favorite faculty, and they tore my work apart, pointing out flaws, misinterpretations, gaps, and numerous areas of improvement … and then they deliberated, and granted me my honors in Global Studies. I pulled a bottle of Finger Lakes Chardonnay-Riesling (Salmon Run vineyard 2011) and we celebrated. I still have edits to turn in before graduation, yet this is was it.

Although most of the Ruckus Bus is seniors, today was also our last practice with the entire team. I was late coming from the defense, but I sprinted barefoot through the soft field in the glaring sun. The plants even seem relieved to finally be able to open their buds. Everything’s coming together.

The reality is a creeping, seizing feeling upon my throat, my chest, my mind, and the rest of my body, knowing that this structure I’ve accustomed to for 17 years will no longer be there. At least until I venture unto graduate school. Last of this, last of that. I’ve been snapping shots with a disposable camera, which will certainly feel like a treasure when the film’s developed.

All the ‘grander’ visions, so to say, that I applied for didn’t work out; I say this with subdued bitterness and a gracious sense of humility. It’s a lesson in long-term planning and figuring out how to move through the rip tide when it’s about to pull you under. Of course this isn’t the end of things; I’ve hardly just begun!

Don’t ask me my ‘plan’, because you know what? I don’t have one yet. I might be spending another summer cooking, but at least I’ll always know how to feed myself and others. This is funderemployment (fun + under employment). The loans are real, and my obligation to debt already haunts me. Still, there is something to be said for veering off the imagined or intended path. Despite all these experiences that college has afforded me, I need this chance to explore on my own.

Before that, before the caps and gowns, we have a Senior Week dedicated to bonding and partying.

I’ll cry later.

"We will love thee yet, we're ne're forget the Scarlet and the Brown."

April Round-Up, or This Can't Be the Last Full Month

... of my undergraduate career at St. Lawrence. As I scramble during this last week in April to finish my senior honors thesis, see all my friends, attend lectures and workshops, prepare presentations, receive award and inductions, and dress up and dance for theme house and team formals (as if we could dress up to go anywhere else!), it is finally sinking in that this is it. In less than four weeks, this community that I have so wholeheartedly spread my mind and heart into, will no longer be my home. 

Building apple crates with a local carpenter through the North Country Folk Series, a set of programs to connect students with local crafts people and artisans.

Mine's a bit rough around the edges, but certainly a useful piece of furniture!

Elizabeth and I hiked Azure Mountain, a small peak about 40 minutes away, with over 50 friends of the Women's Resource Center for Take Back the Night. The purpose of the event is to give agency back to victims of sexual assult (see the post I read last fall here).

 

Evening cresting across the St. Regis Valley.

I rallied, and registered l11 adies to revive the Ruckus BusT for one last competitive tournament that would be just women's teams. Unfortunately, sickness, family visits, and work schedules prevented us from going. Nonetheless, I hopped aboard the guy's team and accompanied them to their tournament in southern tier New York. I regained my Georgia tan, tried to film highlights, and provided support however I could, which included driving them back to school after an exhausting marathon of games. A few sets of parents came to watch and feed us, which was wonderful. They men only had 3 subs for the weekend but played some of the best frisbee I've seen from them!

The seniors (it was a mom's idea, for once).

This past weekend we kicked off our infamous Spring Fest with brunch! It was a full team effort to feed nearly 20 people, but I couldn't think of a better way to fuel up for a long day of dancing and celebrating spring.

 

 

People milled about the townhouse quad before the concert. There was the most people I've seen since the first week of school, with many from neighboring colleges which we didn't exactly like, but they weren't causing much trouble.

Our Spring Fest featured Mat Kearney and Sammy Adams. Mat demonstrated clear talent and seemed like a genuine man. I removed myself from the crowd for Sammy Adams, who promotes the image of a Boston frat boy. We watched the chaos ensue from a hill side with amusement.  

Following the weekend recovery, I've hunkered down in the library to tie up my thesis and prepare for poster presentations on Friday and Monday. There's no time to lose momentum! But I'll save the rest of my four years of sentimentality for another post.

Listening: "Through the Wire" from Tokyo Police Club's new album, Forcefield.

Scenes from Spring Break, part II

Actions shots from the tournament, partying with the team, and glorious evenings at the marsh. (Some photos are generously borrowed from friends)

It was such a treat to play on a grass field, albeit sandy. The heat, however, took a lot of adjustment. Day one had me quite dehydrated.

The tournament was co-ed, so for seen players on the field we went 5 men - 2 women, or 4-3, which I love because it fosters a need for trust and communication.

High Tide is awesome because it attracts colleges from around the country. We played DI schools like Georgetown and Boston University, and competing against a college from Wisconsin! Despite actual size rankings, every team is a wild card.

We also played a no-clothes point... courtesy of four guys on our teams with speedos.

Frisbee playing makes for some badass snapshots and highlight videos. Holly, Elizabeth, and Sam (our team moms) were terrific with on the sideline with these! 

  

We ended day 3 not winning the tournament and finishing 4-4 overall, but collectively proud and exhausted of our playing. We drove to St. Simon's Island (where most teams resided) and ate ice cream on the pier.

 

 

The Ruckus Bus in prime form.

Would you believe that the snow only finally melted two weeks ago, but night times is still barely breaking 35 degrees? There's talk of the infamous year that it snowed on graduation, but I'm bearing my sandal tan proudly and wearing them whenever it's warmer that forty degrees. Although Georgia is moving farther away in the past, I can definitely say it was one of my best memories of this year. There are so many seniors graduating from the team, we're considering the idea of returning next spring and registering as the alumni Rusty Bus, and renting out the  Bluff House again. I can only hope--being a member of Team Shithead is a full-time job!

Listening: "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac

Scenes from Spring Break, part I

Spring break was March 8th to the 15th and I'm still in denial. Though North Country temperatures have finally crested the freezing point, we have no semblance of new life yet, and we have to go through mud season first.

I traveled 20 hours south with my ultimate frisbee team, the Ruckus Bus, to southeastern Georgia to play in High Tide, the largest collegiate ultimate tournament in the country. Georgia is honestly a different world; we forgot what it takes to defend against sunburn and bug bites, but we adjusted quickly. Traditionally, the team has rented a house on St. Simon's Island, but the home owners are tired of the liabilities and trouble caused by a month's worth of college students. However, we snagged a house a bit farther north situated on a marshland estuary, called the Baisden Bluff House. It sleeps 14 and we actually fit the 25 of us comfortably, and we filled the lawn with games, strung hammocks, paddled down the river, spent mornings and evenings in the enclosed patio, biked under moss-covered trees, played kan jam from sunrise to sunset, slacklined, played bacci, corn hole (the bean bag game), wiffle ball and just reveled at our lovely Ruckus commune.

Forty hours down and back with these fools (Elizabeth was driving at that point)!

The Baisden Bluffhouse lawn, before we filled it with activities. 

With four bedrooms and three baths, couches also became beds at night, though fortunately not too many people had to sleep on the floor. 

The first night we all arrived at the house, everyone was so exhausted! All we could do was collapse in the living room together.

The beautiful estuary. The boys challenged each other to climb onto the beams and catch a frisbee while laying out into the river!

We paddled out to this sand bar at low tide and claimed it as Ruckus Island!

Exploring the roads around Crescent with Elizabeth.

It's raining, and the snow is finally melting away, but we're still playing frisbee indoors. This winter has been harsh, which I took for granted because I was in China at this time last year. Three weeks later, my tan has disappeared, but that makes me appreciate sunshine and summer that much more-- right?!

Listening: "If I Ever Feel Better" by Pheonix