On independence, part 2

Hi, I appear to enjoy abandoning my blog for a few days at a time...

I've been sick. Last night was probably the worst. It involved hacking, cramps, puking, and near-seizures, as well as a "comf up here pls?" text message to the bf. All while attempting to absorb every bit of Nyquil except the Ny. Hence why I thought it would be a nice idea to ditch class again today, and not move until I felt I was ready to do so.

I miraculously forced myself out of bed in time for the last day of choir, though, where everyone decided it would be a good idea to ambush - I mean, grouphug - the departing officers. I was in the middle. I hacked on everyone. I can't say I didn't warn them. But on a serious note, that was probably the first moment that it all started to hit me. That this is the end. That I'm not coming back (except to visit once in a while). That, with a few exceptions, I may never see these awesome people again. Like, I consciously know that graduation is coming, but this is the first time I've unconsciously realized it.

I got a little tear in my eye at that moment. But then again, I think I've been overly emotional today anyway - before I dragged myself out of bed, I was watching the sappy wedding/baby shows that are normally on at that time of day.

That may be another sign that I'm ready to get out of here. Okay, I'll admit, I normally get a little teary at the appropriate moments of these shows. It felt different today, though. Like maybe I'm ready to move on to more grownup aspects of life. I don't know if I want to get married ASAP (even though my choir director seems to think we should) and I'm not yet sure if I want to be a mom (I wish I had siblings so I could be an aunt, so I could have the pleasure of spoiling and loving small children without any of the responsibility - a trial run, if you will), but it's still that whole grownup stage of life I'm reaching for.

Which, once again, reminds me of the neighbors. I had to ask them to quiet down the other night. Although I ended up ditching class on Monday, I was still hoping I could make it, and wanted to get as much sleep as possible. They, of course, were in an open room chatting at 11:30. This time, I stepped out and said - in the politest way possible when sick and tired - that I needed as much sleep as I could get and if they could quiet down a bit I would really appreciate it. One girl (out of two or three) quickly apologized - I'm not sure if she meant it - and one just glared at me. Didn't even make eye contact. To their credit, they did quiet down, though.
The next night, they were at it again. I shuffled around in my pajamas for a bit, hoping they'd get the message, but I had to resort to a slight slam of my door followed by a loud shift of the lock. They shut up fast. Probably think I'm a bitch, too, but whatever. Like I hadn't just spoken to them the night before.

It's people like this who need to grow up (I don't mean that to sound nearly as harsh as it probably does). I got to thinking, and realized that there are approximately three levels of maturity in college:
1) Being fully aware that you're still a kid
2) Falsely thinking that you're grown up
3) Actual maturity
#1 is very short-lived: when you move away from home for the first time, but visit all the time because of homesickness and the realization that you still kinda need your parents. #2 is where most people - including the neighbors in question - are at, and is the most irritating stage. In their cases, I don't get it. This is their first time away from home, and I can only guess they elected to live on the 21+ floor to be near mature people. And then they don't talk to many other people, they don't seem very accepting (or willing to be so), and the most current pictures of themselves on their doors feature letter jackets, braces, and considerably different looks. I feel like they have a fear of the now and possibly the future. What is there to fear?

Maybe they fear me (or people like me). I've grown up. It's okay to be mature while still being apprehensive about finishing school and moving on to the real world. But I've hit that point, and there's no turning back.