I’m so incredibly close to finishing… school that is. Well, at least undergrad. I have just two papers and a couple of tests between me and that long sought after piece of sheepskin. There have been dozens of movies that have mapped this scenario, it seems that young Hollywood has been cutting its teeth on these bubble gum teeny bopper movies for the last 20 years.

My college experience has been much different than pretty much anything I’ve seen on the silver screen. I didn’t party for three and a half years only to realize in my last semester that I actually have to enroll in the classes I want credit for. I didn’t join a fraternity and haze pledges while drinking a keg of fratty light by myself. I didn’t sleep around or even date just for fun.

No, my collegiate experience would be less like a Tara Reid/Ryan Reynolds movie and much more like a grainy documentary you would see at Sundance. It wouldn’t need special effects, just some cliched commentary and Indie music. It might win some awards in that kind of setting. An unusual kid that doesn’t really fit into the mold breaks free and becomes his own man. This is the kind of story that one would find in a classic American novel. You know the ones I’m talking about… the ones you never finished Junior year of high school because they were too boring to keep you awake at night and your teacher made you cite 42 instances of dramatic irony in chapter 4. 

My life would be another Hemingway, Steinbeck or Salinger novel that you keep on your shelf because it makes you seem deeper or more learned than your friends. I love where I’ve been and where I’m going… I’m fine without the glitz and glamour… I’m glad that my life is void of cartoony covers or page turning antics… I love where God has taken me.