*record scratch* *freeze frame* 

Yep, that’s me. A washed 22-year-old about to graduate and move to B****lyn. You’re probably wondering how I got here. 

Well, it all started my freshman year Fall Quarter. Full of innocence. Full of myself. Full of three shots of Pink Whitney that gifted me the ability to vogue, dougie and lose my nice ass sunglasses on the dance floor right before the American DJ and record producer MK performed on Halloweekend during Freshman year.

Wow. You ‘26s, ‘27s and ‘28s probably have no clue what I’m even talking about. Back when Dominic Fike would make weird jokes on Dillo’s mainstage that nobody liked. Or when Fizz didn’t exist and YikYak reigned supreme. Or when people still spoke about the anti-Greek life movement (yes! At one point, people didn’t want to be in Theta)!

We’ve gotten a little off-topic, haven’t we? Let’s reflect on all that has brought us seniors to Spring Quarter.

In the first quarter of college, my true love sent to me… an ultimatum that said if we don’t start dating now she will break up with me. Anyway, we’d basically been dating for the first three weeks we knew each other. And if I’m not willing to commit now, then that’s that. 

Reflecting back on this moment, I will give it to her. It worked. Thank you Marriage Pact!

In the second quarter of college, I called the ambulance at least twice for my friends who hadn’t yet discovered how much SVEDKA Blue Raspberry Flavored Vodka they needed to not throw up all over the first floor Allison bathroom. 

Don’t worry ‘27s and ‘28s, once you grow up and one of your friends studies abroad in France or Italy, they will be designated the friend group sommelier. Goodbye Blue Raspberry, hello Barefoot Pink Moscato! 

In the third quarter of college, I finally dropped my freshman year friend group. Thank God. Wait… fuck… guys… the three that I dropped all had different houses located in Cabo, Big Sky, the Hamptons and a getaway(?) in Switzerland. Hah. Just my luck.

In the fourth quarter of college, God whispered in my ear to return to the sacred place. Lay claim to your throne of Periodicals. And that I did. Also Engineering Analysis 4 was the lowest any engineer has ever been, and if you’re taking it, just know that life gets better. Also know that there was a time when a table was always open in periodicals before it became the it-girl of on-campus studying.

In the fifth quarter of college, I blacked everything out. Everything. That was a tough time.

In the sixth quarter of college, the theme for Dillo Day was fire. Planet Dillo. At least we had three years of good outfits. 

In the seventh quarter of college, I learned that you can spend four months in a country and not make friends with a single person from said country. Even harder than that is trying to speak to a person who goes to Duke. It’s like talking to a brick wall that has paint drying on it. 

Also back to your sommelier friend who studied abroad. While I still think every $6 bottle of wine from Trader Joes probably has similar “notes” and they’re not actually onto anything, I’ve accumulated this list that will impress any person who has spent time abroad.

• If someone asks what beer you like: any Western IPA
• If someone asks what red wine you like: Pinot Noir, Cabernet Sauvignon or Malbec
• If someone asks what white wine you like: Chardonnay, Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Grigio
• If someone asks what juice is your favorite: Fucking finally… I don’t have to pretend to like this disgusting ass liquid that people have pretended to like for a millenia

La la la I blocked the rest of college out. All I learned is that I’m planning on saving lives post-grad. You might’ve guessed it. Yep, the MCAT was hard. Too hard. And anyways, I will be saving more lives (and money!) as the newest hire at the Department of Government Efficiency. 

Thank you Elon Musk for this amazing opportunity. As a senior, I’ve already done ketamine just to get ready for the drug test where they make sure you’ve at least tried LSD, cocaine, ecstasy, mushrooms and ketamine before your start date. Booyah, check that shit off my bucket list.

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