Thanks for the memories

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

I started this column not too long after something profound hit me — I had spent so much of my time trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life that I neglected to think about what I wanted out of life.

But now I’ve come to the end, and I think it’s time to wrap it up. Some last minute random thoughts, some last minute ruminates about the past four years before I make my exodus.

I must be wearing that shirt again — the shirt that says “Your worst shot here.” I’m talking about pickup lines. All I seem to get are lines. But my roommate got the worst pickup line ever in the history of girls who have gotten bad pickup lines: “If I were president of the world, I would make you Secretary of all Beautiful Women, and your only job would be to continue being beautiful.”

Thank goodness for the curve. Only in college can you make a 65 and still pass. I never thought I would have to rely on the curve. Thank goodness for cheat sheets too, even though you spend half the test trying to read everything that you tried to cram onto an

8.5 x 11, with writing so small ants couldn’t even decipher it.

Finding something you’re passionate about is an incredible sense of fulfillment. Finding passion is not the problem, however. The problem is, so few passions are marketable. But hey, we’ve all got plenty of time to sort that out. Find what makes you happy, and run with it. Or jog. Or skip. Find your own rhythm and march to it. Be extraordinary. Be great. Become a superhero. Change the world. Save it. Wake up tomorrow, and do it all over again.

I realize that you can never be complete, because that means there is no room for change, and no room for growth. Am I the same person I was four years ago? I certainly hope not. I hope I’ve changed and for the better; otherwise, I didn’t get my money’s worth.

Indeed, I have changed. I’ve gone from someone who wants to conquer the world to someone who wants to change it. Just another symptom of growing up, I guess. When that much changes, you know you’re never going to see the world as you once had.

Heartache is inevitable, but it only makes you a better person to have loved and been loved.

No regrets.

Money makes life more convenient, but it doesn’t make you happy.

I spent some time in Fort Worth working on a documentary this semester. When you spend a considerable amount of time in the underprivileged parts of town, you come to find a whole new perspective on the quality of life and a whole new appreciation for what you have that so many don’t.

I spent some time at TCU while in Fort Worth. People out there say they like it better than Dallas, because it’s slower paced. Well of course it’s slower paced. Slow people tend to move slower. Is it just me or does TCU seem like nothing more than some strange parallel of SMU, where Flash is purple, and the guys are only half as good-looking?

Some people at the end of four years find the path they were meant to take in life. Some say that’s a calling. I say it’s a blessing.

The most important lessons in life don’t come from a textbook.

In college, you find a lot of things, but the most important thing you’ll find is yourself.

Be honest with yourself — that’s all it takes. It’s so simple, yet it seems to be the hardest thing for us to understand and do sometimes.

So much to say, and I feel like I haven’t said enough.

To Johnny Goodbar — thanks for being my muse and for reminding me that writing is real. Maybe one of these days, when I finally do achieve greatness, you can say that you once loved someone who used to be no one. I hope you find whatever it is that you were looking for, that you never found in me.

To the SMU community — thanks for being in support of my words, my sarcasm and my offbeat sense of humor. I’ll be back in the fall for the official release of my book. Until then, happy reading. It’s been a privilege, an honor and one hell of a trip.