What have I really gotten out of college, other than a bunch of information thrown at me for the past six years that I've semi-absorbed in an attempt to receive a piece of paper that reads 'Bachelor of Arts'?

Well, obviously, there was much more to those six years than books and papers; regardless, I'm taking it all with me:

my broken wrist (March 1999), an on-the-job accident at the Centralia College box office, which was caused by a knee dislocation and a precursor to my sixth – and final? – knee surgery, aka bone meets hardware, times four.

the job at L&I (Nov. 1999 to Nov. 2000), where I filed microfiche, stamped mail and sorted papers 40 hours per week, and on Friday afternoons, we shot large rubber bands at the sprinklers above each other's workstations.

copy editing at the Oregon Daily Emerald (Dec. 2002 to June 2003), the job I got without an interview; I still don't know how I managed that one.

my tiny-ass apartment in Eugene (Sept. 2002 to Sept. 2003), with zero ventilation and no AC (ugh!), the DSL that outran my poor Pentium, the ants, and my fake backyard.

Pokemon Superstars (Winter 2004), my project group from Media Rhetoric.

National Writers Workshop (April) with Rob, Mitch and Hal; the enlightening dinner with Rob's family, cruising Seattle and Pike Place with Mitch and Hal (oh, those parking woes!), walking the Ave. in search of bubble tea, and driving in circles in University Place. (Alright, whew-hoo!)

all those baseball games and the trips taken to Eugene, Bellingham and Bend (Feb. to May), especially looking for something sexy at every game, well, beyond the tight pants.

making "Front Window," my short film (May); thanks to Teaya, her brother, J.C., and mom, Pam, this project rose above its bleak outlook (Barbies; no, I'm not kidding), though it nearly turned my parents' computer into a punching bag. (Oops!)

my CPJ buddies – there are no words (so, don't make me try to say them!); besides, laughter is more appropriate.

While there are many more moments during my college career – both in and out of school – that I could have included, these are just a sampling of the most defining to shape me and my current path. Likely, I'll look back on this and wish I'd put some dinky insignificant thing in here that will likely play a big part later on. Or I might look back and think I was cracked. Either way, as long as I remember – regardless how pleasant or unpleasant – I cannot change the past and, therefore, don't dwell on it, then I know I've succeeded.

Chinese meatball, anyone?

Copyright © 2004, Talia M. Wilson
written: May 2004; posted: Nov. 9, 2004

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