Waxing Nostalgic: Why I Think Reunions Are Fun

“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.”
― Virginia Woolf

Niiiiice hair...

I don't remember much about my high school experience.  While I was there, I was too busy looking forward to college to focus on enjoying the present.  Also, I was kinda snotty.  It's not that I MEANT to be snotty but I looked down on the small town I lived in (CERTAIN I was destined for bigger things, duh) and I didn't want to be connected with people I would almost certainly leave behind forever in a few short years.  I had a (very) few friends but most of the people I went to high school with were, at best, acquaintances.

I can apply two words to my 18-year-old-self:  Your loss.  (I could add a "bi-otch" for greater effect, but I think you catch my drift.)

So, I apparently WASN'T destined for bigger things.  I live in a fairly small southern city less than two hours from the tiny southern town where I went to high school.  My career (if you can call it that) is uneventful and unexciting and I often do what most people seem to drift to:  get up, go to work, go home, go to bed, get up, go to work, go home, go to bed.  In my MIND, my life is exciting and challenging and extraordinary!  But, in reality, my life looks much the same as my neighbors.  I obviously didn't have it all figured out as a snotty little teenager.

We're currently planning a joint reunion with the class of 1988, who is celebrating their 25th reunion this year.  We're doing it to boost attendance and, frankly, because a LOT of us in 1989 just would love for someone else to collect the money and do the majority of the planning while we sit back and drink wine.  :)  Many of our classmates still live in the area and, I believe, don't really see the value in attending a reunion of people they might run into the grocery store at any given moment.  But I believe they SHOULD go.

Here are five good reasons to go to your next high school reunion:

1. You probably missed out on some great people when you were an 18-year-old know-it-all.  I know I certainly did.  The people I have met who went to my high school are FUN.  They're funny and smart and most of them have their you-know-what together.  They make me laugh and they bring tears to my eyes.  I should have taken the time to get to know them back then.  But I am SO GLAD I get a do-over and get to know them NOW.  I don't want to miss the opportunity to truly know the people I knew when I was young.
2. You have better hair now.  Especially if you're a girl.  Especially if you graduated from high school in the 80's or most of the 90's.  Or the 70's.  You should go to the reunion IF ONLY to show people your highly-improved hair.
3. Cliques no longer matter.  You know that girl you teased for wearing ratty clothes?  She's running her own business.  You know that guy who sulked in the corner?  He is a lively and entertaining Little League coach.  Whoever you WERE in high school doesn't matter.  You've lived a whole lifetime beyond that.  Even if you're fresh out of college and deciding if you should attend a five-year reunion, I can tell you this:  You are ALREADY a totally different person than you were at 18.  People as they age tend to look past the outer shell and into the heart of you.  (Or, at they least they do in MY rainbow-colored world.)  Get to KNOW the people you graduated with as they are now.  Listen to their stories.  You might be surprised at what you have in common.
4. Shared roots matter.  I have lived all over the country.  I have traveled and I have met some truly fascinating people.  I have loved people of all ages, shapes, cultures, and races and have learned to appreciate and celebrate the differences of my friends.  But the people who were  with you in high school share a significant bond that cannot be recreated.  Back then, you didn't have a choice about where you lived.  You lived where your parents lived.  You were thrust into this group and you played the cards you were dealt.  You handled it....didn't you?  You grew up with these people.  They knew you when you had pimples and thick glasses and a stutter.  And they loved you anyway.  Or they hated you for it.  Regardless, your interactions with them shaped who you are right now...whether you know it or not.
5. Life is short.  You never know where life is going to take you.  Or when it's going to end.  Why not take a few hours of your time and have a drink with the folks who thought you were a/an idiot/snob/jock/jerk/princess/ghost/genius?  Tell a new story.  Write a new chapter.  I'm not asking you to relive the "glory days."  I'm not asking you to even WANT TO GO BACK (I really don't want that).  I am just saying that, for a moment in time, you shared space with these people as you were learning and growing and becoming the flat-out rock star that you are today.  What a fabulous opportunity to find out who they turned into!  

Me and a fellow classmate at our LAST reunion. FUN, right?

I cannot WAIT to attend this reunion...not because I'm excited about who I'll see..but I'm excited about who I'll MEET.  And I hope someone will meet me and think, "That girl is SO not the b***ch I thought she was..."  Actually, I hope they don't think that.  I hope they come right out and TELL ME!

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Lessons Learned from Dog Walking

“A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours. Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things-a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.”
― John Grogan

Sparky, Mr. McDougal and I have been awake since about 3:30 this morning.  After I finally gave up on sleep at about 4:30 a.m. and rolled out of bed, I put on my running shoes and shorts and headed downstairs.  The dogs know what it means when I put on my shoes first thing in the morning and they both skittered downstairs joyfully.  Little did they know I had a plan to get my OWN exercise in first thing this morning.  They looked at me sadly as I shut the front door behind me; Mr. McDougal stood there with his head cocked to one side as if to ask, "Kelly, dear, is it not morning?  Do we not walk WITH YOU?"
 

At the end of my 45 minute power walk, I was tired and my old arthritic knees were starting to swell just a bit and I decided that I would walk the furry beasts later this evening....and then I opened the door.  They bounded toward me, tails wagging, tongues hanging out as if to say, "Yay, yay, yay!  OUR TURN NOW!"

Who can say no to two happy dogs?

As we walked along this morning, I laughed at the two of them as I always do.  They just crack me up.  One big.  One little.  One strolling.  One running along with his tiny little legs a blur.  I looked up at the stars as we walked along and started thinking about all of the gifts my dogs bring to our family.  And, if we pay enough attention, they teach us valuable lessons even on something as simple as a morning walk.

1. It's always fun to venture out of the house.  Even if we're taking our customary walk route, those dogs bound out of the house like they are ready to summit Mt. Everest or chart an unknown territory.  Their noses go up and out and their tails wag and they pull at their leashes to GET STARTED.  They look forward to our walks every single time.  Fun is to be had around every corner even on something as simple as a morning walk.
2. Life is better with a buddy.  Even though I think Sparky was pretty happy as a single dog, he seems even happier with his trundle dog tripping along beside him.  They push their noses together as they sniff through the neighborhood and they each wait patiently while the other does his business.  As they walk, they keep pace with one another.  
3. Who you are is more about what's in your heart that what you are on the outside.  Sparky is a big dog at almost 80 pounds but he thinks he is the cuddliest lap dog you've ever met.  And when he meets people or animals during our walks, he wags his tail and begs to go and meet them.  Mr. McDougal, on the other hand, is a tiny Scottie whose legs lift him maybe four inches off the ground.  He thinks he is the biggest bad-ass to roam the streets.  He struts along at the end of his leash and just DARES other dogs to come over.  "You want a PIECE OF ME?" 
4. Everything is interesting.  They sniff.  They notice.  They look.  Nothing escapes their attention.  This morning, I took a page from their book and paused to appreciate the beauty of the full moon as it eased toward the horizon.  
5. If someone loves you, they are willing to carry your crap.  I do not LOVE scooping their smelly deposits into a bag and carrying it along with us.  But I love my dogs.  And I know that they love their walks.  And if I have to carry their crap...well, so be it.  I can take a little crap-carrying in exchange for all the joy I receive walking them.

I adore my dogs.  I hope that I give them one ounce of the joy and wonder they give to me every day.
Is it nap time yet?

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My New Plan for World Happiness

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”
― Roald Dahl

Kids are born with this incredible sense of wonder.  You can see it in their reactions.  Babies startle and smile when wind blows over their fat little cheeks.  Toddlers stare intently at the undulations of a caterpillar.  They stop (actually stop in their tracks) to watch an airplane move across the sky.  Every day is filled with new surprises and magic.  Where does it go?

An blog from Psychology Today estimates that children laugh 300 times a day.  A 40-year-old adult laughs only four.  Are we that burdened by bills and deadlines and worries that we can only manage a chuckle at breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks?  As an adult who laughs way more than four times a day (but, sadly, way LESS than 300), I am pretty sure that much of the problem lies in our boredom and lack of wonder.  We've SEEN hot air balloons.  We understand that when someone crouches down behind the couch they are really still there. So even when they jump up and yell "surprise," we're no longer caught off guard.  Boring, boring, boring.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user tobit_e

I woke up this morning with a solution:  I think Congress should approve a Superhero Day.  It would be just like Earth Day or President's Day or Labor Day.  Actually, it would be more like Labor Day so people could have a three-day-weekend. I think three-day-weekends are especially important for cultivating joy.

I know, I know.  You're looking at me with your non-laughing adult eyes and thinking, "What is she even TALKING ABOUT?  Does SHE know?  This constant blather bores me."

Well, I woke up thinking about how when I was a little girl, I BELIEVED I could do impossible things.  I know you did, too, so stop looking at me like I'm nuts.  I would jump off my grandparents' porch over and over with umbrellas or towels wrapped around my neck like a cape BELIEVING I would eventually fly.  Some might simply call me an idiot who doesn't learn a lesson but I really did believe.  There's a teensy part of me that still believes.

I also believed in Santa.  I mean I FERVENTLY believed in Santa.  Who wouldn't want to believe in a magical fat elf with a toy factory who knows your name and who knows exactly what you want for Christmas?  I got a sweater once for Christmas and I honestly believed that Mrs. Claus had knitted it for me herself.  I swear I did.

I believed in stuff when I was kid.  And, here's the kicker:  I believed in myself.  I believed I was smart.  I believed all the hype in school when teachers tell you that you can do anything you set your mind to. (Eminem says this also....which totally must make it true.)  I believed that I could be an astronaut or a pilot or the president of the United States.  And, at one point or another, I wanted to be all those things.  Life was magic.

OK, I get on a roll when I start talking about this stuff...back to Superhero Day.

Here are the rules of Superhero Day (because we're adults, I know you can't fully believe in something unless it comes with rules):

• No one can work on Superhero Day.  That's right.  We're shutting down WALMART and TARGET and MCDONALD'S.  (Imagine how peaceful our planet would be for a day if we shut down everything for 24 hours.)  For a day, we're letting magic and imagination rule the world.  No tired, grumpy folks.  For those of you who don't cook, just order takeout the day before and graze on the leftovers.  If the power plants can't run without people....so be it.  No power.  No open gas stations.  NO ONE WORKS.  Remember the days when Sunday meant stores were closed and banks were closed?  Hearken back.  No one works on Superhero Day because you can't always work and believe in the magic of life. 
• Everyone gets a cape.  Everyone.  And your cape can be whatever color you wish.  Mine would be red because red is the best color. (See?  I already sound like a five-year-old.)  Your cape can have stars on it or pickles or whatever you want.  But it must be a beautiful cape in your eyes.  You have to look at that cape and feel tears prick the back of your eyes because you think it's so beautiful.  Because everyone knows that in beauty we find magic. 
• On Superhero Day, you have to do ONE NICE THING for someone else.  Just one.  And you get to pick the nice thing.  And no one has to even KNOW ABOUT IT.  You could leave flowers on the doorstep of your neighbor.  You can pay someone's power bill.  You can bring a cake to a favorite teacher.  You can smile at that guy you always frown at.  You can forgive your spouse for not being perfect.  Pick one nice thing and do it.  Because everyone knows that kindness is magic.
• No one gets hurt on Superhero Day.  That's right.  No mean words are exchanged.  No one hits anyone else (INCLUDING, but not limited to, spanking).  No one gets yelled at (because everyone knows that words hurt most of all).  People put their weapons away on Superhero Day...all their weapons, including the ones you can't see but only feel.  Because everyone knows that being safe is magic.  

Superhero Day, once a year, could help to restore our embattled spirits.  For one day, we could all learn to appreciate each other and our limited time here on earth.  I think we should institute it right away.  Or maybe we can just implement some of the rules starting today.

Happy Superhero Day to you and yours.  Find the magic.

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I am a beauty bomb. No, seriously.

“All little girls should be told they are pretty, even if they aren't.”
― Marilyn Monroe

I am pretty sure I've given up on this whole beauty thing.  I know this because I ventured out tonight in a pair of torn Umbros (remember those?) I have had SINCE COLLEGE (800 million years ago...they were somewhat smaller than I remembered, though), a t-shirt that was about 10 times too big for me and a raggedy pair of flip flops.  My sweaty hair was knotted in the back of my head to keep it off my shiny, makeup-smeared face.  You've seen those cute teenagers who can knot their hair up and they still look like supermodels?  Yeah, don't picture THEM.  Picture instead a large-headed woman with thinning hair who can barely gather enough hair for a pitiful ball smack in the back center of her round noggin and you have something a little closer to my reality.

I'm ready for my close-up.

Twenty years ago I would have been AGHAST at my own appearance tonight.  Twenty years ago I didn't step OUTSIDE without a shower, inexpertly coiffed hair and thickly applied makeup.  This was not so much that I was concerned about my own beauty but more so that I was really desperate to appear not hideous to the outside world.  Hey, give me a break...I was coming off some really unfortunate teenage years.

Now?  If my teeth are brushed, I am GOLDEN.

Here are a few ways to tell if you're ready to surrender your beauty weapons:

1.  The half-assed mani/pedi.  OK, my toes ARE generally painted in the summer.  Hastily.  By me.  Usually five minutes prior to walking out the door.  And sometimes I don't have time to completely remove the old polish, so I just add a thick layer RIGHT on top of the old.  Sometimes I do this four or five times.  I know this is frowned upon by professionals because I went in for a REAL pedicure a couple of years ago and the woman began a rapid-fire dressing down in an Asian language unknown to me.  She was apparently horrified as she applied acetone to my toes, rubbed hard, glared at me, applied more acetone, rubbed some more, glared some more and applied more acetone.  I gave her an awesome tip.  Manicures?  Meh.  Again, I'll slap on some polish if I'm feeling froggy.  I do manage to make my fingers match my toes.  I'm not a total imbecile. 
2. Makeup.  I've been wearing the EXACT SAME makeup for...you guessed it...TWENTY YEARS.  I always have brown eye shadow, brown eye liner and a hint of blush.  I did go a little crazy a few years ago and exchanged my liquid matte foundation for a mineral foundation.  I do not match my eye shadow to my outfit.  I don't even think about colors.  It's simply too much for me.  My entire makeup procedure takes approximately one and half minutes...if I take my time.  It took me a sum total of 20 minutes to do hair and makeup PRIOR TO MY WEDDING.  I've heard of women spending entire DAYS preparing for events like that.  
3. Hair.  OMG.  Do NOT get me started on my hair.  My natural hair is a thin mass of curls that go up and down and over and out and all over my head.  My face under my natural hair looks very much like it's being swarmed by brown bees.  Lately, I've been drying it, halfheartedly running a straightening iron through it and then I hope for the best.  It usually ends up in a clip or a band within 20 minutes of "styling" anyway.
4. Clothing.  My daily uniform consists of brown or black pants, a white tank top or t-shirt and either a cardigan or a button down shirt.  Every day.  Sometimes, I mix it up and throw on a jacket instead of the cardigan or button down.  But my pants are ALWAYS black or brown. Unless it's a weekend and it's jeans and a t-shirt.  I buy in bulk.  I have added in a rusty orange color and some purple.  Never patterns.  Always solids.  I am nothing if completely unadventurous in clothing.  Yawn. 

If any of the above sound remotely like you, I beg of you to RUN (not walk) to your nearest fashionista friend and plead with her to keep you from turning into me.  I have given up....but YOU DON'T HAVE TO.  

I texted a good friend of mine tonight during my Umbro outing and told her that I was in the process of violating every rule she'd ever taught me.  She laughed but didn't protest.  She knew I was telling the truth without even asking.  She loves me for who I am, apparently.  I've noticed that we're not spending a lot of time together anymore though...she just doesn't want to be witness to the rapid unraveling that's sure to happen as I move further into my forties.

On the flip side, there's something pretty amazing about all of this:  I accept myself fully and completely.  I'm not only secure enough to venture out looking just this shy of homeless but I'm secure enough to laugh about it in blog world.

That, my friends, is worth my weight in bobby pins.

Where Can I Find the Facebook Crazies?

“I don't trust anyone who doesn't laugh.”
― Maya Angelou

I have a fairly manageable list of friends on Facebook.  And my friends there are witty.  And smart.  They often make intelligent arguments for causes they believe in.  They proffer links to donate to charities they're passionate about.  They're committed and involved parents.  They're loving husbands and wives.  In short, they are just really nice, ordinary people.

What I found out tonight is this:  there is a-whole-nother Facebook world I am not privy to.  And I am obviously MISSING OUT.

Several of the people I was with tonight were Facebook friends with the person who posted THIS gem (you're going to have to fill in the blanks because I just can't bring myself to fill them in for you):

Being this f*ing sexy doesn't require any work or upkeep.  I just roll my happy a** out of bed and...BOOM B***CH! 

The BEST part about the above is that it was followed by THIS status update BY. THE. SAME. PERSON.:

On our way 2 teach Vacation Bible School

And no.  I am NOT making this up!  The ragged discord these mixed messages sent through me made me laugh so hard I almost wet myself.  They just rolled their happy patooties out of bed and got their VBS on.  I guess it just goes to show that God uses ALL of us, doesn't He? 

What I want to know is this:  WHERE ARE THESE PEOPLE ON MY FRIENDS LIST?  I mean, NOT A SINGLE friend I have who teaches Vacation Bible School (and there are quite a few of those) has ever (to my knowledge) posted a cute little Garfield pic with an f-bomb or the phrase "BOOM B***CH."   I have simply never seen it.

This means that I can't make fun of a SINGLE friend on my FB list.  

Let's troll through status updates on my Home page for a moment:

• A cute pic of a dog guarding the door of an even cuter sleeping baby.
• A well-written, thoughtful note about the beautiful evening sky and the sliver of a moon.
• A Bible verse.
• A motivational quote about movement.
• A link to a training seminar 
• A sweet quote about love dedicated to a partner
• A wholesome family photo

Not a SINGLE curse word.  Nothing about sexiness.  I can't mock A SINGLE FRIEND.  They're all just really nice people who say nice things about others and who do nice things for other people.

I just can't figure out what I'm doing WRONG...I am BY FAR the WORST person on all of my Facebook friends list.  By FAR.  Am I not supposed to bring people down to my level?  These Facebook friends of mine are like the creamiest cream rising to the top while I sit here looking up at all of them thinking to myself, "BOOM B***CH!"

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The Heat is On

“It was always so hot, and everyone was so polite, and everything was all surface but underneath it was like a bomb waiting to go off. I always felt that way about the South, that beneath the smiles and southern hospitality and politeness were a lot of guns and liquor and secrets.”
― James McBride

I am sitting in my recliner in ragged boxer shorts and a thin white tank top, lazily fanning myself with a dog-eared copy of Better Homes and Gardens.  A lone box fan is pointed near me but all it seems to do is to stir up the heat, making it wash over me in waves.   The dogs are looking at me, sadly, lying on the couch across the room.  Neither is panting but both have paced the floors throughout the day, looking at me quizzically.  I don't think they're accustomed to such stillness from me or from the heavy air.

The ice in my water melts almost immediately, the condensation from the glass mocking me from a pool around the bottom of the coaster.  There is no music on nor television to distract me.  I am sitting in the heat...just being hot.

I have no desire to get up and clean or move at all.  I haven't done a single load of laundry.  I haven't even read much.  I'm like an old-timer on a Southern front porch, just sitting and rocking and watching the world go by.  Mostly what I'm doing is sitting here counting my blessings.

• I have electricity to move the blades of the fans in the house.  The overhead fans are whirring away and the box fans hum along on their highest setting.  I am so grateful for electricity.
• Yesterday, it rained.  I am so grateful for the rains that have cooled the air.  
• At some point, when the parts come in and when my HVAC guy can get the almost-day-long job on his schedule, I will have working air conditioning again.  I am thankful that I have a job so I can pay for this new unit.  
• I am thankful for a working refrigerator with a built-in icemaker.  How fortunate I am that I can grab a cool drink in this confounded heat!
• I am so happy that my boys were able to go the beach with their dad this last weekend.  They'll miss some of this heat since they won't return here until Tuesday night.  I am grateful to be able to teach them the lesson of how blessed we really are.  Doing without increases your appreciation for what you do have when you have it.
• I am thankful for my friends who have offered a place to stay in the heat.  I haven't taken them up on it, but I appreciate the offers.  And I am so grateful for the friendships I have.  
• I am healthy.  My boys and my animals are healthy.  I am so grateful that we have good health and are able to endure the heat without too much stress on our minds and bodies.
• I have a car so if I really need to get up and out of this heat, I can gather up the animals and we can take a drive with cool A/C!  Or, I can use the car to go buy more box fans.  Or I can go and find an air-conditioned restaurant to cool my heels in for a little while.  I am so thankful I have a car that works.  
• I am so thankful that I can be thankful.  My heart and my mind are at peace these days.  I can focus on the many, many wonderful things in life instead of dwelling on the things that may not work as well.  I am grateful that I have a heart that seeks peace.   And I am thankful that I have so many people to love. 

So, kids, enjoy your air-conditioning.  Don't worry about me over here sweating my patootie off.  Coolness will come in time.  At least night will fall in a bit (although I think I'm going to wander out of this house in just a while to bring my core temperature down a few degrees before bedtime).  Maybe I'll look at some pictures of Alaska for a while or think about my childhood years in Leadville, CO where no one has any need of air-conditioning because the altitude is greater than 10,000 feet and the average high in July is about 72 degrees Fahrenheit.

If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive.

  

My Advice for College Freshman (Even Though You Didn't Ask)

“I've learned one thing, and that's to quit worrying about stupid things. You have four years to be irresponsible here, relax. Work is for people with jobs. You'll never remember class time, but you'll remember the time you wasted hanging out with your friends. So stay out late. Go out with your friends on a Tuesday when you have a paper due on Wednesday. Spend money you don't have. Drink 'til sunrise. The work never ends, but college does...”
― Tom Petty

I suppose that's easy for Tom Petty to say....he's a gazillionaire.  While his advice is not EXACTLY what I would give to incoming freshman, I do have a few hard-earned words of wisdom.

Several of my friends are bidding adieu to their precious offspring at the end of the summer.  They're booting them out of the nest into the Great Unknown of Adulthood...well, semi-adulthood...and into College.  Naturally, my thoughts turn to my own misspent youth and my college years at the illustrious N.C. State University.

Thing 2 and Thing 1 on the Brickyard at NCSU

When I first arrived on campus for freshman orientation a billion years ago, I was completely unprepared for the experience.  I had never set foot on a college campus (nope, never did the pre-college tour thing).  I had no money.  I had no real adult skills.  I have no idea how I managed to make it.

But as I sat on the bottom floor of Metcalf Residence Hall at 2:00 a.m. on a sweaty July night (yes, kids, this was prior to the advent of campus-wide A/C) discussing my future with my new bestie (a guy who'd been a stranger two hours before), I felt like I belonged for the very first time in my whole life.  I remember getting teary sitting there, talking about my wide-open life plans and realizing that this, finally, was a place where I fit in.  College.  I sat there, breathing in the freshly-polished floor, sweaty teenager smells, and I remember smiling broadly and thinking to myself that I would take advantage of this perfect fit.

I lost touch with the car-guy-bestie I met on that first day (I've always been a sucker for car guys), but I entered N.C. State University that fall as a wide-eyed country girl with high hopes and big-city dreams.  I threw myself into the experience with abandon.  I signed up for classes and I met people and I talked and talked and talked.  I put myself out there.  The next year, I became a resident advisor and, for the next three years, watched tides of incoming freshman enter, stumble and then regain their footing.  I listened, mediated roommate arguments and laughed through all hours of the day and night with scores of students.  I miss many of them and often wonder where they are today.

So, if you have a kid who's getting ready to make the leap, I have a few words of advice for them (and for you):

1. Take advantage of the opportunity.  Tell your kids to do the college experience RIGHT.  There are so many cultural activities activities on a college campus.  I watched bagpipe players.  I went to modern dance recitals.  I fell in love with a cappella music.  I listened to lectures on diversity.  I took a freakin' ballet class.  I began a lifelong love of drama when I played a part or two at Thompson Theatre.  I dove into college headfirst and I took full advantage of the incredible world that exists only on a campus.  Students have everything they need to thrive and become contributing members of society right there.  Don't sit in your room studying ALL THE TIME.  Don't go drinking with your friends all the time.  Go out and experience new things.  Stretch your mind.
2. Don't stick with the people you know.  There are THOUSANDS of new people on a campus.  I always moan a little bit when I meet freshmen who are rooming with another kid from their high school.  Take a chance.  Meet new people.  Get out of your comfort zone.  You may find that you have WAY more in common with the kid from Minnesota than you do with the kid from your hometown.  I'm not saying you AVOID the people you already know...but, again, STRETCH yourself.  Free your mind.
3. Explore different classes.  I entered college as a freshman in the engineering department.  Holy mother of pearl!  What was I THINKING? (I would be a TERRIBLE engineer.)  But I took a class called "Interpersonal Communication" (doesn't the title of that class just SCREAM Kelly?) over on the bright side of campus and realized that the people in THAT world were LAUGHING!  The classrooms were brighter.  The students didn't look all dour and morose all the time with their hair standing on end from running their fingers through it in frustration over the latest Diff EQ assignment.  That class changed the course of my life. 
4. Live in your dorm. (I STILL have trouble calling it a dorm.  A dorm is where you sleep.  A residence hall is where you live and grow).  Do not get an apartment your freshman year.  I wouldn't get an apartment your sophomore year either.  LIVE on CAMPUS.  It's where the action is.  And don't go HOME every weekend.  Home will be there on holidays.  Home will be there when you graduate.  College is short-lived.  BE THERE. 
5. Parents: Visit (not too often, though) and take your kids out to dinner.  Some of the most wonderful memories I have were when parents would visit campus and take their kid and one or two friends out to dinner.  I just thought this was cool.  And parents can get a glimpse of who (and what) is newly important in their new young adult's life. 
6. Remember this: the time is fleeting.  You won't be in college long.  Breathe it in.  Be present in every single moment.  The real world is knocking on your door.  And someday, you won't be able to wake up at noon and stagger to your first class.  I don't necessarily believe in the saying "those were the best years of my life" because I believe we can make the best out of every day if we try hard enough.  But I DO believe there is nothing like college.  Enjoy the ride.

I cannot WAIT for Thing 1 and Thing 2 to be ready for their university experience.  I understand that I will be far more excited about it than they will (unless, of course, I drive them crazy enough between now and then that they are excited just to GET AWAY FROM ME).  I am always a little envious of freshman...even now. 

In closing, I only have two more words:  Go Pack!  :)

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