Tag Archives: senior stories

On August 28, 2010, I finished my first week of college. I thought it was the longest week of my life, and I also went to Brackenridge orientation. On August 28, 2010 and I quote, “I have no life. For real. No life.”

On October 10, 2013, one of my classes was cancelled. I did some work, and then I went on to go to Varsity Bar with my friend Ross to drink ABW, a tallboy, and a shot of gin…and then we went to class. This was my first semester of senior year, day drinking was my hobby.

How do I have such an amazing memory?
Because I’m actually part elephant.

JUST KIDDING! It’s because of
ohlife screengrab

It’s pretty simple how it works:

You sign up and they send you emails asking how your day went. You can choose the frequency of emails you get from them, you reply to the email, and they store your reply as an entry. Every time they send you an email, they’ll start to add what you wrote last week, two weeks ago, 367 days ago, 765 days ago, etc.

I signed up for ohlife on August 28, 2010…and I’ve been writing/replying to emails every so often ever since my first week of college.

Basically, I chronicled my whole college career. Raw, angsty, and everything in between.
Because it wasn’t a public blog, I never gave grammar or word choice a second thought.
Because it wasn’t a journal, it was just plain text, no pictures or doodles (but you can add pictures now!).
Because it isn’t social media, I’m the only one who can read it.

It’s just me, replying to an email. I didn’t realize I chronicled 4 years until recently.
But thinking about it now…that’s pretty freaking cool. I can’t say the same about my blog (because it’s barely 2 years old) or any other communication medium in my life. Maybe Facebook, but let’s be honest- my Facebook isn’t that personal.

Ohlife let me air out a lot of feelings into an email, privately. As I said, there’s angst in there, from moments I didn’t remember until I got that email that said, “1000 days ago you wrote…”
I love that. Because that means things change, and would I know that 1000 days ago? Probably not. I was tied up in frustration from some trivial moment, and happened to document it. It gives me perspective, from where I stand today and where I stood then. It’s all about perspective. (You can roll your eyes at me now.)

I continue to get emails from ohlife because it has become such a habit, like breathing air (or responding to emails).

This is one of my Senior Stories: memories and things.

Processed with VSCOcam with t1 preset

The fall of my freshman year, by spontaneity and peer pressure, I purchased these combat boots. I paid what was due at Nordstrom Rack and I never looked back. Three weeks ago, I zipped my boot up for the last time.

After 4 years, 8 semesters of college, my trusty combat boots broke (the zipper specifically speaking). They’ve been everywhere, or…well, a lot of places. Pearl St. of Boulder, CO, Mt. Bonnell of Austin, TX, the pedal clips of my bike, the pavement of many streets, the floors of concerts and parties- this could go on and on. These shoes have really taken a beating, I’m surprised they lasted this long (I may or may not have gotten some upchuck on it at one point).

Looking back, these leather babies were one of the best purchases I’ve ever made as a freshman in college (…I didn’t get my bike until my sophomore year).

Maybe this is turning a new leaf, but I’m severely attached to these boots, they’re still on my shelf. Is it weird that a part of me wants to put it in a glass case to commemorate and preserve the sentiment they hold? Yeah, okay it’s weird. But it’s like those first pair of Chucks you get, which by the way, my mother threw away. Or it’s like your first power blazer that landed you that job…I’m still looking by the way. Whatever it is, it holds a visual representation of a part of your life. I feel like that constitutes some sort of glass case, right?

I’m getting WAY too sappy about a pair of boots, but this is my blog and I do what I want. This is an ode to my combat boots. They kept me grounded through a lot of my college experiences, both literally and metaphorically. Do you have something like that from your college time? Or any sentimental time?

-shrug- Senior year and three more days until graduation.

This story starts way before “selfie” became a “song.” Today it’s about me taking selfies with a specific person: Megan.

Megz, Mexibear, Meg, Megan. Our friendship started when we created “The Office” Club at school, shared our love for Harry Potter, tacos, our ethnicities, and many things in between.

Now I’m not sure when I started this, but after I did, it became a “tradition.” Yes, if you look below, I’ve made a collage of selfies I’ve taken with Megan every time we’ve gone out together (I think). Ladies and gentleman, she is what some people call a “ride or die” girl. Or, she’s my ride-or-die girl anyway. (Now that I’m thinking about it, what does “ride or die” even mean?)


House parties, regular parties, bars, restaurants, etc., she’s the girl I’ll probably be with 90% of the time. Anytime we’ve been out together, I would make her take a selfie with me. I think I’m probably missing a handful of them but you get the point. Bless her for going with me to numerous events. I’m gonna say it: Megan, you’ve been a huge influence on me and my time in college- in the best worst way. With my “Senior Stories” series, I knew I had to include you and our selfies.

(I hate saying selfies.)

Whether you’re in college, out of college, or working- I know you probably have a friend like this in your life. They’re down to go get a beer with your after they get off work, go to a lame-ass party, or a company-sponsored one (those are the best). THANK THEM. Because there’s probably a time where they didn’t really want to go, but they went anyway…because they love you.

I couldn’t have done senior year correct if she wasn’t in my life. Dolla dolla beers, yo.
*Cue nostalgic music.* Senior year.

Less than a month until I graduate.

Holy. Shit. (sry mom)

Four years flew by. It’s cliché, but it really did. It feels like I blinked and four years vanished. Especially this last school year. My last two semesters have blurred into one giant semester.

Mid-May, I will walk across a stage, receive a very expensive piece of paper, and become an official alumna from the University of Texas at Austin (I’ll be a “Texas Ex”).

Now I’m looking back on this semester with a specific story that I want to share. This will be part of a series that I’m calling “Senior Stories.” (I know, realll creative.) This story is about self-confidence, belief in oneself, first days of school, etc etc etc.

Senior stories Fridge

It goes something like this**:

Setting: It’s the first day of class and my second class of the day.

We’re given this piece of paper and told to draw a portrait of the person who was closest to us. Of course, I knew no one. So on top of drawing a stranger, we were only given one minute to draw this portrait. After the minute was up, our professor asked us how we felt about our drawing. Nonverbals said that we were all a little bit embarrassed; no one wanted to share their drawing. He told us that it always results the same way when he does this exercise in his classes.

He then goes on to tell us a story about his five-year-old niece and how she drew a portrait of our professor. The difference between us college students and his niece was this: she was extremely proud of her drawing. So proud that she believed that it deserved to be on the fridge. He segued into telling us that that’s how proud we should be of our work. That’s how we should feel: we should believe that our work is fridge-worthy.

This is a rare feeling. I know this and you know this (yes?).
But if we’re not producing fridge-worthy work,
if we don’t believe we can produce fridge-worthy work,
we are most definitely selling ourselves short.
We have to ask, who will think it’s fridge-worthy if we don’t?

To tie this in with Pixar (because I think it’s just so damn fitting), I wanted to share with you guys that I did some investigating. And I was told that while I did stand out as a candidate, my execution was not flawless. That hurt. Because to me I heard, “it wasn’t good enough, that I was not good enough.” But I’m going to try [really hard] and choose to think about it in a different way. My Pixar campaign was good despite the flaws because I put my whole heart into it.

It is fridge-worthy.

Your turn. Did you create something fridge-worthy?

**I don’t really remember how this story panned out exactly, but I tried. -shrug- Senior year.