Let’s take a look back over my time growing up and remember fondly the years that stood out amongst all the others.
Oh 5th grade. What a wonderful wonderful time it was. Tallest in my grade meant that I was not only an all star basketball player, but add soccer and softball to the equation, and I was a recipe for success. I went to my first boy girl birthday party, and one of my friends had a boyfriend and I was chosen to be the link of communication between them. Score. Not to mention I ruled the school along with my rat pack of prepubescent teens. Golden years I tell you.
Then, we can’t forget 8th grade. Unfortunately my towering height of 5’2” was over passed by just about every other person in my grade. HOWEVER, my extra large hoop earrings, pencil thin eye brows, pocketless jeans, and lip gloss that was popping kept me afloat. Right? Or maybe it was the fact that I had managed to make and keep friends, that I was only sent to the principles office once in three years, and that I learned that popularity is a game for fools, which made this year so wonderful. I had gone through the terrible teens, and I made it out on the other side ready to take on my position as an upperclassman.
But, to top off the growing years, we have to take a look at my Senior year of high school. 12th grade. Glory of glory years. But why is it that we all love these final years in each school? Is it because we finally learned which water fountain won’t shoot extra high drenching our faces? Or perhaps it’s because we discovered which teachers have candy bowls in their rooms. But you know, I don’t think that is it. The reason that I, along with the rest of the world, have loved these three years so much, is because they are the end. We have made it all the way through, and we are finally done and ready to move on. Senioritis. It’s the happiest time of the year! Fewer classes, more hanging out with friends, later curfews, and a summer to look forward to.
So why is it then, that as I finished my 3rd year at UCLA and began the summer before my SENIOR and FINAL year, I am far from excited? I’ll admit, I even threw on my pocketless jeans and hoops in an attempt to bring back that emotion. (unfortunately the pants wouldn’t button…) But, I couldn’t find it. And the reason is that I have loved every moment of my time at UCLA and I can’t imagine my life after it. No one year was better than the next because they were all so phenomenally different. I have learned more about who I am as an individual, a daughter, a friend, a colleague, and a scholar than I ever thought possible.
As I looked over the classes I have left before I graduate next year, I found it to be a measly 5. FIVE?!!? It’s too soooooon! So for all of you students out there who are complaining about senioritis and how you just can’t wait to be the big boss on campus and then depart for greener pastures, remember this….I’ll be a Bruin forever. I don’t care what my degree says, or what my last paper submission date is. I dread the end and the senioritis to come, but I welcome the energy and spirit that only UCLA could have taught me, and which I will bring forward with me on my quest to conquer the career world.
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