Oct. 18th 2008 will mark the day that my post-secondary studies have come to an end and I am ELATED. When I receive the piece of paper that says I made it (regardless of what I learned and threw up or learn and swallowed whole) I will cry….hard. I can feel it already. I’ve been on this journey for 6 YEARS…SIX! My first post-secondary attempt was done only because my four year attempt (in high school) didn’t end with the right bang…I was “playin de ass” as my mom would say. This second journey only (can I really say only? hmm…fuck yea) took 5 YEARS. The last 2 were hard faught. There were moments when I truly thought I wasn’t going to make it. Everyday I went to school I hoped the bomb threats people made to get out of exams would be real and the school would be a blaze on my arrival. I hated my major with a passion and every prof that spoke through their mic becasue the lecture halls were ridiculoulsy huge gave me the right incentive to turn on my ipod, put away my notes and start writing from my heart. I used that time unwisely (not completely). I doodled, I wrote short poems, I wrote incoherent sentences across my page. Anything that jumped into my mind went down on paper, even if the prof was talking about how important his next point was to our ability to pass the final. Silently I said fuck you.

There were classes I took more than once. In the last 2 years I barely passed the rest. Family life was spiraling out of control, my relationship status wasn’t at it’s strongest and the things I thought I loved turned out to not love me back. With distaste in my mouth I pushed on. To settle my brain and keep my medulla from popping I gravitated towards the electives that always stimulated my mind: Humanities, Sociology, Women’s Studies, Social Science and Anthropology. Things that I had long debates about after class. Lectures that I was more than happy to attend. Tutorials that I raised my hand in any chance I got because I couldn’t wait to be heard. I yearned to know why the male or female across from me was thinking something I wasn’t. I engaged in coversations like that’s all I had. In THOSE classes I mattered, people could see me, and right or wrong my opinion could be heard. And I truly loved it. On the days I had those classes I walked to the bus stop, or my car afterwards (depends on how much doe I had to spend and if the gas station or the bus station was gunna get it) and a million thoughts raced through my head. I should have had my blog then. I wrote as I walked, and sometimes as I drove, and in those moments the earth really stood still. Those classes are the only ones that kept me sane. I relished in those moments and I honestly feel this is where I truly learned…about myself and the world outside of me.

So when I walk across that stage at 3PM on Oct. 18th 2008 (prolly more like 3:30 though because university ish is never on time) every step I take is for the good and bad times. For the rough and gleeful moments. On that day I’m not just PICKING UP MY DiPLOMA, I’m taking my sanity back, I’m taking my love back. I gave and gave for 5 YEARS in that institution and I must say I figured out a lot of things that I am 100% thankful for. But that chapter is going to close with watery eyes and a full smile. I will have made it.

Stay tuned for the after math of that day. Thanx to those who helped me hold my head: DQ, JW, SP…I love all yall like a fat kid loves cake.

Peace.

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