On finishing fall semester of senior year in college
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Sitting here on January 1, 2021, at the Indianapolis Airport masked up and awaiting a flight, I reflect. Twelve hours until departure.
I remember one Thursday evening my sophomore year, campus felt empty. We walked down The Drag (what we call the part of Guadalupe Street that touches the university) and headed towards the Tower, the heart of campus, and our guiding north star. There was no flurry of movement, no dodging of incoming Lime scooters, no panting or heaving from the mad dash to get to class on time.
We sauntered, reminiscing about freshman year and the disarrayed memories that came with the trial period of adulthood. We laughed about once getting Kerbey Lane pancakes at 2 a.m. after spending hours toiling away on an intro MIS (“Management Information Systems”) assignment and trying our hand at entrepreneurship by making waffles in our dormitory kitchen. Crossing the street, I readjusted my bag of laser tag guns– a juvenile impulse buy I waved off as an “I’m in college and I should be spontaneous and have fun” purchase.
My friend joked about this being the last memory we’d have on campus. “That would be crazy,” I replied, “but at least it’ll be a good one.” I pulled out the laser guns from the bag and detangled the wires, “Let’s play.” With the bag no longer strapped on my shoulders, I ran around freely, unencumbered, ducking, hiding, and grinning, slowly losing the grasp of time, watching my friends do the same.
It was just before Spring Break. And many students had already made their way back to their hometowns, a few to Cabo San Lucas. I’d be in Austin for another day until I’d pack up my things in my parents’ car and head home for what would unknowingly be a one-and-a-half-year visit.
I returned to campus in the fall of 2021, this past semester. Driving up Dean Keeton to my apartment, I felt as though life at the university had sprung again, a delayed blossom from when we’d left. Excited students sporting Class of ’25 shirts giddily walked around the Honors Quad, exploring the foreign grounds with their newly made friends, experiencing the novelty of it all. Upperclassmen at Cain & Abel’s took a swig of beer and clinked their glasses in celebration of an overdue reunion.
My parents pulled up to the apartment garage and we began lugging my stuff out of the trunk, ready to be returned to its place in the apartment. I stuck my key into the lock and turned it open, some reason relieved that it still worked. Pushing the door open, I was greeted by the sweet cacophony of fans loudly whirring. It was like a recreated microcosm from the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. Vuvuzelas filling the stadium air, humming continuously.
Campus, all over, was buzzing.
I walk into my roommate eating her lunch at the dining table, smiling and waving. I burst out laughing perhaps because of its uncanny resemblance to the “This is Fine” meme, or the fact that this scene could have come straight out of a 60’s sitcom.
“All the apartments on the second floor got flooded from the Austin rain a couple of days ago. The construction in the courtyard clogged the drains,” I was told, “Apparently, the apartment’s considering it as a ‘natural disaster’ so they’re not putting us in a hotel room.” She took a sip of water. “I surprisingly haven’t had trouble sleeping. After a while, it kinda just becomes white noise.” White noise was a euphemism.
Month after month, this eventful week of inconvenience would be eclipsed by newer, bigger, and more important issues that at the time would always seem like a matter of life and death. Having the perfect group with competent team members for a semester-long class project. Getting the perfect job immediately after graduating college to ensure a successful career trajectory. Aiming for a perfect score on the final exam to secure an A in the class and safeguard your GPA– because when you’re young and have experienced so little of life, you feel the need to mold whatever you have of it to a textbook definition of perfection so that any uncertainties of the future can be removed from the equation and success is guaranteed.
I somehow miraculously ended the semester with all As– a feat that I normally would beam with pride at, considering I’d lose my 4.0 almost every semester but didn’t. I managed to get a job lined up post-graduation. And yet the moments that mattered most, deeply etched in memory for their contribution to my joie de vivre, were those spent with friends–
Texas two-stepping to George Strait and making a fool of myself with the first friends I made in college.
Throwing up the horns, shouting ‘Texas Fight,’ and learning the importance of sunscreen at UT football games where wearing burnt orange can establish instant camaraderie.
Whipping together vanilla lattes and caramel macchiatos for my roommates and concluding that Starbucks has been scamming me for years.
Getting Dippin’ Dots ice cream, roasted pecans, and pulled pork sandwiches at Buc-ee’s, the king of gas stations, on road trips back home.
Blasting throwbacks, Olivia Rodrigo, and Christmas music in the car in mid-November.
Sipping Rosés and Chardonnays on tap at a self-pour wine on tap winery downtown.
Savoring the dark chocolate in chocolate foie gras nigiri as the last course of my first omakase.
Surprising one of my best friends with a card and flowers for her getting into Harvard Law after hiding in her closet, praying that she wouldn’t come anywhere near it and risk hearing my controlled breaths until the rest of our friends arrived.
Feasting on Joshua Weissman’s family-style mac and cheese and sweet chili roasted Brussel sprouts at our annual apartment-hosted Friendsgiving.
Forcing my roommates to attend UT’s 40th Annual Madrigal Dinner where we drank wassail and indeliberately dined with the family of the lead actor.
Grinning from ear to ear as my best friend group since freshman year exchanged and opened secret Santa gifts, all of us slightly tipsy from the spiked hot chocolate and eggnog.
Joie de vivre. The joy of living. My state of success.
Photos from fall semester
