Oh, nostalgia. Another year of college has come and gone and I have had plenty of memories (and hangovers) to leave me thinking about it for months. But, my favorite slash not favorite part of the year is The Last Day. Basically, the last day consists of your final test, returning books, trying to spend every last penny you have on your university card, cleaning, moving out, and saying good bye to all your friends that aren't fortunate enough to live in Arizona all year round (Sorry my Alaskan friends, your state sucks.)
The Last Final:
My last day pretty much started at 3 am when I couldn't get to fucking sleep because my roommate was typing to his friends back home. I wanted to say something but I was in that half-sleep/half-awake phase and I didn't want to snap out of it. I woke up at 7:30 to go to my EM-325 final that I didn't study for, but knew I would get at least a B in. I take the test, it ended up being pretty easy and when I finish my last question I finally realize that the school year is over and summer has fucking began. Fuck vertical integration and Metro Survey Areas, I don't need to know that over the summer. I can empty it out of my head and when school rolls back around I can try to bit and piece it back in my head.
Then I turn in my test and my professor tells me that I have six absences (which for a college student is nothing) and he only allows three. Every absence after that means 1 grade letter reduction. I was not pleased. That makes no sense, I got good grades on all the tests and papers and because of a technicality I'm gonna get a D or an F. FUCK NO. Clever Patrick takes a hold. I tell him that I hadn't gotten the sign in sheet a couple times and that I know for a fact I had only missed three classes. He asks me to get my notes to verify that I was in class those days.
I rush back to my dorm to get my notes and there's a bunch of empty spaces because I really did miss six classes (Actually, probably more than that.) I go through my notes and put bullshit writing in that make no sense to what was being taught in that lesson. I rush back to his office and show him that I was in fact at class those days and even have the proof. He looks through my notes and sees that there are words and says "Oh ok, then no problem. Your grade in the class is a B" Thank you God for making me such a good liar.
Cleaning the Room:
After I get that settled I decide to clean my room and start packing shit. Its crazy what you will find in a college kids room after 9 months. Oh, that's what was smelling up my room! (Old salsa.) I didn't know I had a fifth of vodka in my room? That could have helped me out earlier in the year. There's my favorite T-shirt -- oh never mind its covered in salsa. This isn't mine! (Some girls skirt.) I found my history notes that would have helped me from bombing a test, and about $90 in pennies that I threw away because, c'mon who the fuck uses pennies? Lincoln sucks.
Selling Your Books:
It was off to the bookstore. My favorite place in the world that I have been to 3 times since college began. I get there and it looks like there's a line for Space Mountain in front of me. I almost just left, but I knew I could use the beer money. I eventually get to the front of the line and this lady that looks like my grandma's mom is there. I put down my 4 books and she scans them all. "Well, I can give you $20 for that one, and $1 for the rest." Well, I can break you hip in four places, you old bag! Give me my money! $1 for a text book? OK, this book is hardcover and has like 400 pages, its worth at least $5 in paper alone. I would rather burn it and fuck up the environment than give it to you for a dollar. You cant even buy a soda for a dollar, let alone matches and lighter fluid. And I know this bitch is gonna take all my books and sell them for like $50 each. I tell her where she can go (hell) and what she can suck (my balls) and then take my books, back walking away realizing that with $3 I could buy 2 sodas. So I turn around and get my $3. What ev, I don't give a shit.
One fun part of moving out is seeing everyone else doing it too. You get to see those kids that you know as crazy mother fuckers in a different light. They are all polite and sober now that their parents are with them. You get to see random people's aging dads struggling to carry their cots into the car and realizing that they aren't strong enough. And you get to point out to your friends that their mom is a milf. As usual I am a procrastinator and didn't sign up to have a move out time so my friend Branden informs me that the list is full for today and I'll have to wait until tomorrow to move out. FUCK THAT. Clever/Liar Patrick has woken again. I walk up to the front desk and demand that I be allowed to move out today because I have a flight tonight. The guy at the desk was like "Uh, dude, there's a bunch of spots open, you can move out whenever." Oh. I just made an ass of myself. I go back and punch Branden in the back of the head for being a retard and relax until my dad comes up to Flagstaff. My dad finally makes it up and we literally squeeze every last thing into my car and we leave the great city of Flagstaff for Scottsdale. Summer begins...
Things/People I won't miss about Flagstaff:
-That motherfucker that drives a Ferrari to class everyday. The campus is a mile long and he has to drive his fucking Ferrari to class every day of the week. And I always see this pompous asshole revving his engine at stop lights and I want to throw my smoothie at his car. I will not miss that douche bag.
-The trash truck that wakes me up every day of the year at 7 am. I unfortunately don't have a view of beautiful mountains or greenery from my room. I have to pleasure of looking out my window and seeing three huge dumpsters full of trash, used condoms, and beer cans. I will not miss the trash ruck.
-Those damn hippies that ride their long boards barefoot. Seriously, don't they realize that you have to wear shoes pretty much everywhere you go. I know that you're uber-unique and totally rad but get a clue. I'll see your dumbass at Burning Man. I will not miss the hippies.
-My holier-than-thou born-again Christian RA that is younger than me. This guy knows that I hate him for calling the cops on me the first week of school because I had a party in the room and now he thinks we're buddy-buddy. He walks into my room every day to have small talk about class, my weekend, ect. And I just sit at my desk and don't look up and half-answer all his questions. "Class Good," "Weekend fun." "Go away." I will not miss my lame RA.
Things/People I will miss about Flagstaff:
-Partying on a Thursday even though I have Friday morning test
-Drunk sorority girls
-Nice cool weather
-Living within walking distance of all my friends
-Hanging out with crazy foreigners
-Hearing Dave Matthews and OAR every where I go