Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Just When You Think You're Safe, You Ain't

I graduated on Friday from Vance-Granville Community College, that time-honored institution of academia where I have wiled away the past five years. I can explain that outrageous time frame for getting two associate degrees, but y'all don't really wanna hear that, right? Right.

Ok, two of those years were in high school. But it's still five years.

Anyway, I thought that since I've finished that phase of my existence--well, almost finished--I should write a reflective post about all the life-changing revelations I've had in the past half-decade.

I say "almost" because I'm taking Calculus III this summer.

I made all A's this semester, even in Physics and Calculus II, so I think I can afford to sit here watching Castle, drawing light bulbs, and sipping my figurative martini. The martini stimulates the brain cells and all.

So here I sit, figurative martini figuratively in hand, thinking wise thoughts. The wisest thought that comes to mind is, "What the heck happened?"

See, when I graduated high school, I went to VGCC because it was a close and cheap way to get my first couple years of college out of the way. That was my only goal. Ok, that and make good grades. My goal was not to make friends or be a presence on campus. I took most of my classes online and was on campus as little as possible. I came to class, I went home. My friends and social life came from church and work.

My lab partner and I had some fun goofing off in my second semester, but we weren't bff's or anything. Second year was nice and calm. Third year started out smooth, then it started down that infamous gravelly path of unpredictability.

Man, I hate that path.

So there I was, fixin' to graduate nice and clean with no extra hangers-on (if that's not a real phrase I am not apologetic), when bam! Suddenly I know all these people, and after years of being in class together they now decide to move themselves from the Those People In Class list to the Friends list. I never moved them. They moved themselves. I take no responsibility for this state of affairs.

Kinda creepy if you think about it. I mean, there they were, and there I was, a completely separate entity, all happy in my own little overachiever world, and then these infiltrators come barging in without even asking and declare themselves my friends and what am I supposed to do? Kick 'em?

And my best friend thinks it's funny. I am indignant, not to mention woefully confused, and there she is, laughing at me. She says the lack of control is good for me. What nerve.

Because it's not the friends I mind, exactly. It's the fact that my fate is apparently not in my own hands. Which I should have known, given that I'm a good Presbyterian child who believes in predestination and all that, but I guess I forgot. It's the fact that I go to bed one night quite calm and content and I wake up the next morning to find that all is chaos and those people have made off with my lists. I needed those lists for putting people into their neat little categories. If I don't have them the people on the lists keep popping out of their boxes and scampering the wrong way. In fact, I think I yelled after them to give me back my lists. I think I even shook my fist a couple times. I had to give up after a few shouts though. I'll probably never get those lists back. So much for organization. I feel like someone else put my clothes away and they're all in the wrong drawers and all my shirts have the sleeves sticking out. I hate it when the sleeves stick out.

So now I'm not really sure what to do with this little crowd I seem to have acquired. What do you do with people when suddenly you're friends and then you go somewhere else and probably never see them again? Do you stick 'em in the closet and keep them until later or do you release them into the wild, wings a-flappin'? I can't say yet because I've never had people escape from their boxes before.

If I had been friends with people from the beginning this might not be so mind-boggling. But coming at the very end of five years, it's just odd. I scratch my head and say, "Weird."

It kinda makes me wonder, though... What boxes am I in?


Juliet SN said...

Well, you jumped from the "Schola-Legend-Whom-I-Just-Met-At-Summer-Academy" box to the "Carissima" box pretty quickly :-D

Nala said...


I love how God seems to be teaching you and me lessons at the same time as he's teaching Michael and I the same lessons together.

Control is not easy to let go of, but make the best of opportunity and just fling all control to the wind. Go wild in your opportunity to glorify God without boxes. If you know what I mean....

Nala said...


I was definitely giggling while reading.

I think less control is better. I find it amazing that God is teaching us the same things at the same time. Especially when he's teaching Michael and I the same things. :-) We should make a club.

While you have no control, relish it! Fling all the last vestiges of control out the window and go wild with no control! Have FUN! :-D

South Wake said...

Terrific post! As a Presbyterian wife, mom and friend I'm chalking it all up to God's sanctifying work in your life. As you get older, you start realizing that, silly rabbit, boxes aren't for people but are for putting things up in the attic to only take out when needed (or discarded when they go long enough w/o serving a purpose.) We are living stones and we are to love, enjoy, delight in, be longsuffering with and pray for all those who God brings in our life...esp. those we'd still, as adults, would like to stuff in a big ol' box! (but, as a good Presbyterian wife, mom and friend I'm still being sanctified to not have even that very thought :)))
Congrats and UR loved!

:) Amanda

Yuri said...

Wow, not only are you talented in music, you write well! Well, as a newer Presby, with lots of denominational baggage... I have to agree with you. You never know where God will take you and what He will do with those classmate/friends/bff's he places along the way.

I can remember people, who I honestly believed, would always be there and aren't. Then there were people I barely noticed, and yet God brings them back again and again for minute bits of encouragement... if nothing more than to show me how far I've come from the Old Me.

I say, let them out of their boxes and just sit back and see where God sorts them. If nothing else, you gain great memories, that are often better than the pictures you take (though you take better pictures than I do!)

God bless!