perusing local literature (October 04)

The other night, my friend/neighbor/coworker/part-time caretaker Miriam and I zoned out while Facebooking - lethal to productivity. Among the oldest pictures tagged of us, of over 1,000 each, is this little gem from college.

I remember my first year vividly, with all of its adjustments, new experiences, different perspectives, and - more than anything - the fantastic array of people who were thrown together in the class of 2008. My favorite class, American Conversations (or AMCON!) was an example of this. I got to know personalities from our class' top scholars to our football recruits, Conservative and Liberal viewpoints, urban and rural backgrounds, students from all corners of the country. All so different, all so appreciated. As we unpacked American history and cultural practices, we also unpacked each others' stories. In the process, under the watchful wing of the accidentally-maternal professor, we became like one big happy family of 40. With finals came my first literal all-nighter, culminating in witnessing a magnificent springtime sunrise from the Hoyme Hall student lounge and an almost-breakdown of a sweet friend when her computer crashed at 6AM. I took about 5 minutes to close my eyes while my other sweet friend drove to Caribou and bought me a large latte... after downing that, the next few hours ranged near-crash to a jittery, heart-racing two hours in the final. I still remember that caffeine rush as possibly more terrifying one of my life.

After sophomore year, as scheduling requires, our time in AmCon came to an end. This photo, taken by my perpetual-photographer friend Lauren (thank god, someone's got to do it!), brings back a few things vintage: my blonde highlights and the now-defunct college equivalent of The Onion, satirical looks at campus life. I also still own that sweatshirt, though it's faded a few shades lighter with a few more holes. Magdalena and Miriam remain close to me, and yes, I still wear my glasses after I've been up all night.

Those few minutes reading The Pickle together, laughing over its sarcastic, anonymous articles, somehow capture the warmth of our little class. It's unlike any other community - or family - I've known.