Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s back to home we go.
On the morn of May 4th, my bus almost took off for home without me. Let me explain why.
My friends and I had been eagerly anticipating “The Avengers.” We had already bought our tickets for the midnight premiere, looked up the MTA bus schedule, and participated in a three-night prequel which we dubbed the Marvel Movie Marathon. With a few people confidently bearing their capes, shields, and masks, we excitedly trekked out of the Vandy bubble with our tickets and a bag of just-baked Oreo-stuffed chocolate-chip cookies baked in Hank Ingram’s kitchen.
“The Avengers” was fantastic. The superheroes kept defeating the bad guy Loki in awesome action sequences, and its hilarious dialogue and one-liners were sure knee-slappers. At 2:30 a.m. even after its epic conclusion, everyone was still abuzz with the thrill of the movie.
We said our goodbyes for the summer, we grabbed our last fourth meal at the Munchie, I lost my last game of foosball against T. by scoring against myself, and I walked out of the Commons Center for the last time as a freshman.
I really did not want to leave the Commons, my home for this past year. There were so many great memories formed with friends and teachers here at Vanderbilt these past two semesters. All the studying in upstairs Commons, the late-night conversations with Roomie, the merry music-making with other Blair perfomers, the baking extravangas with fellow sweet-tooth friends, and the understanding of what it means to have a supportive and encouraging network of people who love God as much as I do.
Perhaps this is why I procrastinated so much on packing. I only had three hours to stuff all of my ticket stubs, free t-shirts, and the rest of my first-year memories into seven boxes before my ride came. All my things were shoved into my cello locker, which is magically bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.
Back to the story. By now it was around 3:15 a.m. and I was telling my friends H. and T. that I was going to pull an all-nighter because no matter how many alarms I set, I would not wake up. They thought it was a bad idea and so H. came up with a better one: give him my Commodore Card and he would bang on my door in the morning. Um. Okay?
I woke up to a call from H. asking, “Are you awake?” Yes, I replied, now I am, and I sat up looked at the time. 6:56 a.m. Okay. Then it dawned on me. 6:56?! I had asked my ride to the bus stop to come at 6:30! In a frenzy, Roomie and I gathered up my bags, H. arrived and grabbed Dmitri (my cello), and we scrambled downstairs. We threw things into the waiting car, I gave them quick goodbye hugs, and S. drove me to the bus stop in only fifteen minutes. Perfect timing because the Megabus showed up at 7:20 a.m. Looking back on it, this was pretty incredible. And funny. I had set two alarms on my phone at the highest volume but those (predictably) didn’t wake me up, and H. had accidentally set his an hour late. Oh well!
Now I’m back home and pretty nostalgic for the picnic lunches in Highland Quad, the challenging classes with lively professors, and the basketball games. But the summer is going to be great! Home in May, the Colorado College Summer Music Festival in June, Aix-en-Provence in July, and back to Vandy in August for Move-Crew!
