My Year 2010 in Review

Well here we are at the end of a marvelous year. This was a year of change, a year or new adventures, a year of goodbyes and a year of hellos. What a year it has been.

            It is hard to believe that just one year ago I was a senior in high school with absolutely no idea where I would be in the next six months. Well, I can honestly say, one year later, that I know I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

            Last January and February I was just trying to figure out who I was and where I was going. March Kairos (a retreat at my high school) gave me the opportunity to really examine my life and answer that question with “I don’t know, but I’m not worried.”

            April was a whirlwind as I visited colleges and made a decision as to where I would be going in the fall.

            May was probably my favorite month. I said goodbye to high school. I said goodbye to the comfort and security of knowing everyone and everything about my small community. I said goodbye to an amazing four years filled with a few life challenges, a lot of fun, and incredible friends.

            As I threw my purple graduation cap into the night sky with my 137 fellow classmates, I was symbolically throwing my childhood behind me, and I did it with a smile. It was certainly bittersweet.

            May was a month of celebration and reflection. We celebrated my past, my future and a huge milestone in life, one I will never forget.

May turned to June, which turned to July. Those summer months I worked at a job I loved because of the people I worked with and had fun with. I also enjoyed the months as a time when I was still a child on summer vacation, but in the back of my mind I was anticipating something bigger.

August was a month of waiting and transitioning. I was getting used to the idea of moving across the country to start something brand new.

September threw me right into that change. I met so many new people and discovered new things about myself. I thought that once I got to college I would be a whole new person. What I found out for the next few months was that I was still and will always be me.

I made some great friends, had a number of laughs and realized that hey, I’m living in a big old city and sometimes high school never really does end as much as we’d like it to. But life goes on and often times, it is only what we make it.

So for your enjoyment I have made a slideshow of my year 2010. It was fun to watch as my life transitioned from high school senior with friends of a lifetime to a college freshman with new friends and experiences.

This year was one of change, of goodbyes to the life I knew, and hello to a life I chose. I became a person of new perspectives, and I can definitely feel myself growing up. I became a better version of who I was one year ago. Thank you to all of you who helped me reach that potential.

So what will 2011 bring? I can’t wait to find out! Happy New Year!

Season's Greetings from Boston

Everyone buys their baby a “Baby’s first Christmas” ornament, in fact, I still have mine, but maybe they should make a “College student’s first Christmas” ornament.

            This ornament, at least for me, would need to say quite a lot. It would need to be symbolic of every emotion not just the Christmas season can bring for a college student, but also every emotion I experienced the past four months.

            We’ll begin with Christmas, though, to start simple. As everyone returned from Thanksgiving break, the Christmas carols came on, the door decorations went up and the gift buying frenzy began.

I too got into the Christmas spirit; however, it was different than it had ever been in years past. Of course the shopping was fantastic in the city. With just about any store you can think of a T ride from my dorm, I was in Christmas shopping heaven.

But I miss the Colorado snow (and I think most Coloradoans do too this year). I miss the smell of the pine tree in my living room (lucky for me, my parents are waiting to put up the tree with me). I miss the lights in my neighborhood (especially the Santa and reindeer lights outside my own bedroom window). I miss baking Christmas lemon squares, peanut butter chestnuts, toffee and fudge with my mom (she better have some ready when I get home). I miss the Christmas quilt that hangs from our banister and shaking the gifts that appear under the tree.

Absence certainly does make the heart grow fonder. Last year, I did not want to bother with the lights on the tree, put up the Nativity scene or wrap the several gifts my mother bought for others. Now, I miss those traditions. So for a college student who misses home anyway, Christmas is the perfect time to head home for the holidays.

So that ornament should be a heart to stand for the place in my heart I hold my home.

This past semester I went from scared and anxious, to excited and surprised, to angry and hurt, to homesick and nostalgic, to accepting of the whole experience.

I have come a long way since Aug. 30. I am excited to head home for three weeks, but I also think I will miss school. I will miss my friends and the city.

So that heart ornament should also have the Boston skyline, perhaps a husky (my school mascot) and a periwinkle purse (an inside joke between me and my friends).

Goodbye Boston, have a wonderful Christmas without me. I’ll be in my lovely home state of Colorado where God can give me a white Christmas (fingers crossed). I will be back before long and we can have even more adventures in the spring. 

Me and some friends, Chelsea and Kait, at the Christmas tree in Boston Commons.

 Merry Christmas! 

Home is where the heart will always be

It had been 85 days since I’d been home. It had been 85 days since I’d driven a car. It had been 105 days since I’d seen one of my best friends. And thankfully, it had been only 30 days since I’d seen my parents.

            But this is a long time to be away from the home I’d known for nineteen years. On my recent trip home for Thanksgiving, I reflected on some of the things I am so thankful to have in my life, things about home that I miss.

            The first thing I realized I missed was the view of endless majestic mountains staring me down as I drive west. I knew I would miss the great Rocky Mountains, but who knew I would miss them so much.

            The next thing I missed was not having to have my Husky card on me at all times. This card, which is just my school ID, is my life; it is my room key, my meal swipe, it allows me to get into my building, and it has my laundry dollars on it. If I lost my Husky card, I would be lost, hence the post-it note on my door that says, “Got your Husky card?” The first thing I did when I got home, I was in my room and as I was leaving I reached toward my desk for my Husky card. Just a habit I guess.

            The next two things I miss have to do with the bathroom. It really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that I miss having a bathroom to myself instead of sharing with 57 other girls.

            I miss taking a shower without shoes on. It was so nice to just jump in the shower without squeaky flip flops, not to mention the odd sensation that your feet naturally dry before the synthetic material flip flops are made of do.

            And never again will I take quilted 2-ply toilet paper for granted. The cheap sandpaper toilet paper that comes in bulk will do in the occasional public restroom, but I will never be that cheap.

            I also missed my parents, sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing, eating home-cooked meals, and driving.

            So I am thankful for the view Colorado provided me all those years, my wonderful parents who provide me with the opportunity to miss these things because I am at a great school and the opportunity to do absolutely nothing at home if I so choose.

            Home was different and the same. I have changed a lot in the past 85 days, so I guess I expected home to change too, but it didn’t. I slid right into my old routines; home was still home. I am thankful for this, because my heart will always have a place to run home to. Because no matter what I do, where I go or who I become, 10160 Vrain Ct. Westminster, CO 80031 with Pat and Judy Quinlan will always be where my heart is.

          

My love affair with the Boy Who Lived

“And you, if you have stuck with Harry until the very end.” This is the seventh dedication J.K. Rowling writes in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This isn’t just one of those meaningless or inside joke kind of dedications. I truly felt Jo, as she is affectionately known, was writing that dedication to me.

            Harry Potter is not just a worldwide phenomenon, movie franchise, record-breaking book series, a theme park or the Star Wars of this generation. Harry has been there for me through my entire life. He has filled my life with so many memories. In a way, he made my life worth living. The first part of the finale movie releases in one week, and I couldn’t be more excited.

As I turn 19 on the very day Harry starts to say goodbye to the world, I can see the page of my childhood turning. The new movie release has me feeling nostalgic not only about my childhood, but also about my love affair with the Boy Who Lived.

In part, I have two people to thank for helping me to love this series. My Aunt Kathleen first introduced me to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone as a six year old. She told my mom about a new book that was taking Britain by storm.

My mom then bought the small paperback and began reading it to me every night. She is the other person I must thank. She fell in love with the complex characters and clever story line. She instilled this love in me. I remember listening to the first chapter of the first book and thinking how truly different this book was from anything I had ever heard before. If only I knew then what an impact it would have on my life in coming years.

My next memory takes me to second grade where I read the third book during free time in class. My teacher was so impressed I was reading a book of that size for a second grader.

Then in third grade, I was Cho Chang for Halloween with a blue Ravenclaw Quidditch cloak. I even had a Harry Potter birthday party. My invitation and cake did not have the commercial Harry Potter images because it wasn’t popular yet. I was ahead of the game.

In fourth grade the first movie came out near my birthday. I went to see it with my parents. I remember getting goose bumps as the whole world I had imagined in my head so many times came to life on the screen. I received the movie soundtrack for my birthday and listen to it to this day.

The next few years are a blur with Harry, but deep down he was always there. He was always in the constant search for himself and was fighting the fate that made him who he was. I loved every little twist and turn, every new character, every triumph and every new disappointment.

When the sixth book came out, I was in Atlanta, GA, for a wedding, but I made my parents find the nearest bookstore so I could go buy it. I then read it in a week, which is actually a long time in the world of Harry Potter; some people read the books in a day or less.

Then it started coming to an end. The seventh book was released on July 21, 2007. I went to the midnight release party at Barnes and Noble with my two best friends and my very tired mother. I still count this as one of the best days of my life. Something about that night was so magical (pun intended).

I finished the seventh book in Hawaii looking out toward the ocean at the sunset. I don’t think I could have closed my time with the book Harry any better, except maybe if I was at Hogwarts itself.

Now it is time to start saying goodbye for real. The movies that have recreated Rowling’s creative genius into a touching and exciting adventure are ending. The three actors that portray the series’ lead characters are being interviewed about life after Potter. But what about the rest of the kids in the world who have carried Harry with them their whole lives? What do we do? Is there life after Potter? I’ll let you know next summer when the final installment comes out on July 15, 2011.

So yes, that dedication was for me, because I have stuck with Harry until the very end. And I hope you have too.

Me, as Ginny Weasley, and some friends, Harry, Voldemort and Elmo included, before the sixth movie premiere in 2009. 

Why Freshmen Dorms are for freshmen

When most people think about college, they think about their experiences in class, the social life and probably the aspect of their living situation. Most people probably lived or live currently in a dorm. Well to me, there is nothing like life in a dorm, and here is why.

            Where else in the world do you share one bathroom with seven sinks, seven showers and 10 toilets, with 57 other girls? Where else in the world do you live in a room with a bed, a desk, a dresser, a closet, a fridge and that’s it? Where else in the world do you instantly have built-in friends?

            That’s one particularly unique and outstanding quality about dorms. The community of people is like a family. My hall is especially close to one another. Smith Hall, 129 Hemenway St. is a little off the beaten path of campus. It is one wide red brick building with three floors. Where one fourth of the population of Smith is girls. I am not exaggerating. Of the three floors, two are completely boys and the second floor is half girls, half boys. But I feel like everyday I come into Smith and see a new boy I’ve never seen before.

            But on the other hand, there are the usual suspects sitting in the second floor common room, which is conveniently (or not so conveniently) located very close to my room. I see these kids every time I walk to the bathroom. Sometimes they say hello and sometimes they don’t. I hardly ever join in with them. You might call me anti-social for doing this, but you don’t know Smith Hall.

            Smith is unique to Northeastern because everyone calls us a family. And granted we kind of are, well some of us. Everyone knows a majority of the people who frequent the common room. But (and that’s a big but), these people have come together simply because they have one thing in common, the place that they live. Some legitimate friendships have resulted from what we call “Smith Love,” for instance Chelsea and me. But for the most part, these people come together on Friday nights before going out, Saturday mornings to recount the happenings of the night before, and they even go out to breakfast on Sunday mornings in their pajamas.

            I have absolutely no desire to do this with them because I would rather make a true connection and friendship with someone based on what we have in common, not just our address. But I admire this Smith family; however, I’ll really admire them next year if they all stay friends. My guess is that they’ll part here on April 30 and maybe say a friendly hello in passing, but nothing more. For me this will be ok.

            I think a freshmen dorm is designed for its exact purpose. It serves as a little community the first year of college then everyone takes the different paths they choose.

            Let me give you a good example of how a freshmen dorm has served its purpose. The Smith Hall Council, whom we elected in the first week of school, planned a HUGE Halloween party…well sorta. It was advertised for a month. “There’ll be pizza, candy, music and a costume contest,” the signs read. Sounds like fun, right? Wrong.

            My group of friends dressed up as the 90s icon the Spice Girls. We took an hour to get ready, we had great costumes, and we were pretty excited to go to this “great” party. We went down the elevator and walked into the lamest sight I’ve ever seen.

            The pool table had off brand candy on it. All the pizza was gone. A laptop hooked up to some speakers played homecoming-esque music, the bad kind. And the costume contest…well there were a few people dressed up. Only nine people actually put in any effort. That would be the Spice girls, some lumber jacks, and two girls in a Smith Hall inside joke costume. Well those are the people who won the costume contest and a free movie ticket. Thank God Chelsea won most creative for her wild hair for Scary Spice, or this party might not have been worth it.

            The rest of the people who were at the party were sitting in chairs on their laptops not talking to anyone. The people who planned it looked even less enthusiastic about the situation than I did.

We stayed for thirty minutes. I would rather have been back in kindergarten putting my hand into a brown paper bag filled with cold spaghetti squealing because it’s supposed to be brains. 

            Thanks Smith Hall for being my home this year, but don’t invite me to any more parties.

Mothers and fathers have days, but parents have a weekend.

This past weekend, which was parents’ weekend, got me thinking about parents and the relationships we have with them. Even though I only got to spend just a few days with my parents, it was good to see them. But seeing them also gave me an interesting perspective on my current experience.

            I have been in Boston at Northeastern for officially eight weeks today. A lot has happened in those eight weeks. I have made many discoveries, I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve smiled at new ideas, I’ve made new friends, I’ve been through quite the whirlwind of life. The exciting thing is that is hasn’t even really begun.

            The weirdest thing to me, however, is that a lot of what I’ve been doing and discovering, I can’t even begin to explain in full to my parents. My whole life my parents have been there. They always supported me in what I did, and heard about every little detail. Now I give them an overview over Skype.

College is giving my peers and me a chance to fully experience life without our parents telling where to be and when and what to do. We have to take the morals our parents gave us and jump into life headfirst. The tricky part is that our parents have to trust us enough to do that, or be wise enough to let us make our own mistakes.

            Walking through campus on Sunday, I saw parents with their children everywhere. I heard sound bites like, “I’ll be fine, dad,” and “but mom.” Yep, even though we’re in college now, we still have that attitude.  It is interesting to see where the people I’ve been around for eight weeks come from.

            Because like it or not, we all come from our parents. Love them or hate them, eventually we become them. But if it is a comfort to know, college is shaping us into unique people with unique characteristics.

            Take me for instance. I have my mother’s sweet tooth (although I’m not willing to try chocolate covered bacon), my father’s feet, but I love to write unlike my parents. And I hope that one day I have the work ethic of my mother and my father’s sense of direction. But I also can’t imagine trying to run my own business.

            The weekend was a good chance to see how my parents have been without me around. The conclusion: they are still boring, but they are my boring parents, and I wouldn’t ask for anyone else.

            So maybe we should always have a “parents’ weekend” to take the time to appreciate the little things that make our parents such an essential part of who we are and who we become. 

Above: The light house at Provincetown in Cape Cod. We went to Cape Cod for parents' weekend to escape the city and flocks of other parents at NU. 

Freshman makes paper with her first byline

This would be the headline of my story this week if one were to be written about me. I would be the freshman, and I would have some great quotes that sound very intelligent. Something like…

            “It feels great to see my name in print, even if it is a college newspaper,” said freshman journalism major Maureen Quinlan. “Everyone has to start somewhere.”

If you haven’t guessed already, this week I had my first experience as a real life journalist. I was working under deadline and felt all the pressure and stress of being a journalist.

As much as I was stressed and complained about it, I loved it. It felt exhilarating to not know if I was going to finish my story. It felt great when I got the interview I didn’t think I would. It felt amazing to talk to someone I had never met before for a quote. It felt great to see my name next to an article. It felt good to get constructive criticism.

It didn’t feel so great when I saw 50 percent of my story cut, but I understand. At least my story made it in the paper.

I wrote a story for last week’s issue, but because of space issues, it didn’t make it in. Never fear, this week it is in the Inside section where it belongs. That just means I got a double byline this week.

I felt incredibly grown up walking from place to place, getting interviews, and writing my story between classes. I felt like a real journalist.

When I realized I hadn’t started a story I was assigned a week ago, a classic Maureen freak-out began in my small dorm room. But after taking a few deep breaths, I remembered something. Isn’t this what I want to do with the rest of my life? I want that last minute assignment that goes on the front page because I got the story done in a day.

With a little encouragement from my best friend, Jenna, I decided to stop freaking out and just do it. I did that and was a lot less stressed as I put words on the page.

More than anything this week I proved to myself that I could do this. I really can do anything I put my mind to. I can be a journalist.

So check out my stories for the student newspaper, The Huntington News. My story about Alcohol Week and a story about the vintage travel poster exhibit at the Boston Public Library.

 Alcohol Week starts  

Exhibit takes viewers up, up and away

The signs at the exhibit at the Boston Public Library. 

Just my luck

They say the Irish have all the luck, but lately I haven’t been feeling so lucky. Sometimes life just serves us the worst of things, and we are left thinking, “Really, what did I do to deserve this?” But my recent bad luck has also left me with new perspectives.

            Don’t get me wrong. I know that everyone has a hard time sometimes. Life gets tough and very hard to bear at times. But the reassuring thing to remember is that the bad times won’t last forever.

            It is known that you will lose yourself at some point in your college career. Did I expect it to happen? Absolutely. Did I expect it to happen so soon? Not exactly.

            A few events in the past week have left me feeling not like myself. I wake up and wonder “Whose life I am living?” because it certainly does not feel like mine. I am not the girl who gets bullied or forgotten. I am not an unmemorable person so affected by other’s opinions.

            One thing I always loved about myself was that I never thought I cared what others thought of me. But I’m realizing that sometimes what other’s think of you does matter. The specific opinions do not matter to me. Hate me or love me, I’ll always be me. But when people express those opinions, I tend to loose it.

            I want to thank everyone near, far and in my heart who have been there for me the past few days, especially my roommate, Niki, my friends, Abbie, Chelsea, Becca, Ellie, Taylor, Seth, Jenna and Katie. And a special thanks goes to my mother who is there no matter what I did or what time of night it is. I owe my life to these people.

            But enough about my sob story. I need to remember something very important, a quote I live by, even if Marilyn Monroe said it (although she is a natural red head). “Sometimes things fall apart, so better things can fall together.”

            I have to trust that God has a plan, that this won’t last forever, that things will get better, and I will land on my feet.

            I am beginning to see what a turbulent journey college will be. Although, part of me wishes high school wasn’t getting involved. Life is a process and a rite of passage. It wouldn’t be any fun if it was easy, now would it?

I am learning by experience that I cannot control everything in my world. Sometimes my world is going to get turned upside down. I just have to deal with it in a mature and professional way, no matter how angry or hurt I am. I hope I’ve done that. If I keep my sights on the future and keep grounded in all the good things about my life, I know I will make it through.

“Someday I will be a successful and happy journalist. Today, I am a student at an amazing university in a vibrant city. And I will always have the love that surrounds me.” This will be my mantra.  

            I might have current bad luck, but the thing about luck is that it’s always changing. 

Things, they are a-changin'

The first thing people would say to me when I told them I was going to school in Boston was, “Wow, that’s far.” But the second thing most would say was, “Wow, that’s different.”

            Many have asked me if I’ve noticed the difference between Boston and Colorado yet. And the answer is yes… and no. But what I can tell you is that things, “they are a-changin’.”

            Who can say I didn’t expect change when I moved to a new city with a new environment and new circumstances shaping who I am becoming. I did; I am not naïve enough to think things wouldn’t change, but I perhaps the fact that I was anticipating the change is why it has been manageable.

            Here is what has been different. First and foremost, I have a new unbridled sense of independence. Of course as an only child, I have always had an independent spirit, but never before have I made every decision for myself. I choose what I eat everyday, when to go to sleep, where and when to go out. I also think I was well prepared for this independence. I think I can make responsible decisions that I will never regret.

            Next, the most noticeable thing I see changing is friendships. I have made some pretty solid friendships, which I feel is incredibly lucky. There is Abbie from Portland, Oreg., a six-foot tall blonde with a great of sense of humor and amazingly huge heart. There is Becca from North New Jersey, a fellow Catholic school survivor with a sweet demeanor. There is Kaitlin, a short blonde, proud South New Jerseyan with a bubbly laugh. Then there is Chelsea from upstate New York, another blonde who talks 1,000 miles per hour with sassy sarcasm and a fellow lover of TV. I eat all my meals with them, and we recently went on a shopping trip together bonding over our love for jewelry, shoes and periwinkle purses.

The fact that I spend all my time with my friends is a new concept. At home I would go home and eat dinner with my parents. I would be lucky if I saw my friends outside of school on a school night. But here I never see any of these girls in class; I only see them at meals and outside of “school.”

A few other things that have changed are my bathroom habits, my living environment and attitude, and day-to-day schedule. Using a community bathroom hasn’t been terribly difficult yet. Although, shaving my legs has proven to be a bit of a challenge.

I have never lived with another human being so close to me before, and let’s just say it takes a certain adjustment I haven’t quite gotten used to yet. And every day is different. Some days I think I can predict what I’m going to do with my time, but it always changes. Like I said, things are a-changin’.

But some things never change. I am still a blunt red head with a sweet tooth who likes to go to bed early. I still love Colorado. Just ask my friends; I talk about it all the time. But who wouldn’t talk about such a great state. Things might be a-changin’, but for now, I’m pretty ok with that.

            

I'm going to change the world damn it!

When my best friend who started college two weeks prior to me told me the first week feels like a month, I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. But now that I have officially been in Boston for one week, I know exactly what she is talking about. I feel like I have done more in Boston in just the past few days than I have done my entire life in Colorado. Maybe it’s the city or maybe it’s the college lifestyle, but whatever it is, I’m excited to watch my life play out before my eyes.

            Since my last entry, I’ve met several people in my dorm and in the dining hall. I’ve even made some friends. So maybe those hellos aren’t as hard as I was complaining about, or maybe I just got really lucky.

            The first week at Northeastern is known as Welcome Week. This is a week jam full of activities to keep us busy, and our minds off being away from home. I did things like an Upper Deck Trolley Tour, a Charles River Boat Cruise, a seminar about living in Boston  (sorry if I staht to drop my r’s), convocation, a barbecue and a discussion with the author of our summer reading book, Dave Eggers author of Zeitoun.

            I’ve also gone exploring the city off campus. I went to a movie in a cab with three other girls at night and felt so grown up. I took the T, Boston’s subway system, to The North End, Boston’s little Italy, for a delicious canoli at Modern Pastry. I walked to the oldest ballpark in America, Fenway Park, for a Red Sox game. It’s ok you can be jealous. I have an amazing city surrounding me.

            But I didn’t come to Boston just for the top-notch Italian food or Red Sox games. I did start classes. I am taking a variety of classes this semester. I have Black Popular Culture, Mathematical Thinking, Interpreting the Day’s News, Journalism at Northeastern, Intro to American History and BLUEPRINT, a leadership club that is incorporated into our schedules and our living learning community.

            Before classes began, all the freshmen in our major met with the faculty of their concentration. So I met with several of the journalism professors. The emcee of the meeting talked to us about how this is an exciting time for journalism. He teaches history of journalism to upper classmen. He always wonders what it was like when The New York Sun, the paper that really started it all, Time magazine, and CBS radio were started by young college graduates. He wonders what it was like to recreate journalism with a blank slate. He envies us because that is what we get to do. We get to be there for the next big thing in journalism.

            This same professor also said that a journalist should think, “I’m going to change the world, damn it!” I whole-heartedly agree. Not every journalist is going to actually change the world, but it should certainly be our goal. The professor added that if we barely reach this goal, that is a life well lived.

      I think I’m off to a great start to barely reaching that goal and living a full life at the vibrant pace of a Bostonian college student. 

The sign at Fenway. I went to the game on Wed. Sept. 8, 2010. 

The Sox beat the Tampa Bay Rays 11-5. 

           

I am from...

Well, I am officially here in Boston. I moved in, went to orientation, and now I am waiting for classes to begin. The goodbyes were hard. Saying goodbye to my two best friends of 13 years, my group of best friends from high school, the girls I bonded with for two years at my part time job and of course, my parents, was hard. The goodbyes were painful, but I think the hellos are even more painful.

            No one told us it would be this hard to meet people and say hello to a whole new lifestyle, especially one without air conditioning in a teeny tiny dorm room. Thankfully I have a great roommate who I have a lot in common with, but enough differences to keep things interesting. Things will get better, because they certainly cannot get worse.

             Just the other day I was talking to a friend also adjusting to college life. We both expressed our wishes that life was like the movies. I sometimes wish it was like the typical college movie with amazing college students who take on the world with apparent ease. Living in a situation like Legally Blonde or Animal House would make life so easy. But it would also be so predictable and what’s the fun in life if it were predictable. Life is great because even though we don’t always know what’s right around the corner, we can shape that future.

            In a way this is what makes adjustment to college so difficult. This is a phase in our lives we anticipate for months, if not years. We all expect it to just happen like magic. We all even knew it might be hard, but not this hard.

Everything is so knew and fresh that we forget what we know and where we came from. We forget that, yes, high school did prepare us for some of this. We forget that college won’t last forever. We forget that anyone who has been through college would probably love to be in our position again. But I think sometimes we forget most importantly where we came from that made this whole experience possible.

In order to help myself remember where I came from I have written an “I am from…” poem. I also want to honor all of those people I will not forget. So here you go.  

I am from…

I am from Westminster, Colorado

I am from 10160 Vrain Ct. with the pool in the backyard

I am from snowy winters and short springs

I am from everything Colorado

I am from Nativity of Our Lord Catholic School

I am from Miss Kircher’s first grade

I am from Girl Scout Troop 1915

I am from Flying G Ranch

I am from Holy Family High School

I am from the Class of 2010

I am from whipped cream fights

I am from the Lamp Post

I am from Which Wich

I am from sharpies and brown bags

I am from crazy customers

I am from amazing coworkers

I am from two red dogs who look a little like me

I am from the best friends a girl could ask for

I am from the world’s best parents

I am from a world of love

I am now from Boston, MA

I am now from Northeastern U

I am now from Smith Hall, Room 229

I am still from all of you

One half of my dorm room. Mine is the bottom bunk.

 For more pictures go to http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=206221&id=516428285.

That "Before" Feeling

Welcome to my blog. If you are reading this, it probably means you know that I’m Maureen, a recent high school grad headed for Northeastern University in Boston. But if you didn’t know that, well, now you do.

I plan to major in journalism, but who knows. I mean college is for changing your mind, right? But that’s the plan for now. Even if I do change my mind in the next few years, one thing will always stay the same. I will always love to write. And hopefully you will always love to read.

I want to tell those of you who haven’t heard my reasons for choosing Northeastern what exactly led me to my new future. It all began last December when I was rejected from my first choice school, a little school now considered the thirteenth best school in the country, right up there with Harvard and Yale. It was their loss in my opinion. But I had only applied to three schools causing me to choose six new schools to apply to in just minutes as the January 1 deadline was fast approaching.

My godmother persuaded me to apply to Northeastern as a backup. She told me, “You never know. You might love it.” And what do you know, I did.

I visited the school in April shortly after hearing I had been accepted. The moment I walked into the round quad and took the tour, I had that “this is the one” feeling. Like your wedding dress and the man you marry, they say you just know when you’ve found “the one.” Well I had found mine. Hopefully Northeastern will fit like the perfect wedding dress, and love me as much as the perfect husband. 

There were two reasons that helped me make the decision besides the tour and visit. One was the co-op program also known as experiential learning. This is a six month period of time taken anywhere from one to three times in four or five years. Starting second semester sophomore year I will have an actual job in the field of journalism in any city from Boston to New York to LA. After six months, I will return to school and continue on my path to graduation.

The second reason was the city of Boston itself. I would consider this one of the coolest places on earth. It is home to a people so full of pride, one of the greatest protests in the history of the world and some of the most brilliant minds in the country. It brought us the Boston baked bean, Boston cream pie and in a way, Facebook.

Another cool fact is that one in four people in Boston is a college student. Students in Boston are not just friends with kids from Northeastern, but also BU, BC, Harvard and MIT. I can’t even imagine the sorts of opportunities that await me.

But wait I must. For now, I’m enjoying my last few days in Colorado enjoying the dry atmosphere, high altitude and majestic mountains that greet me every day. I’m anticipating one of the biggest changes in anyone’s life. College is a big step for any eighteen-year-old, but going to college exactly 1,972 miles from home is an even bigger step.

But all I can do is be excited, nervous, anxious and open to all the change happening in my life. All I can do is have that “before” feeling, hoping that the “after” feeling comes sooner rather than later.