I became enthused about the prospects of university when I realized I wouldn’t have to take math. This was quite a while ago, an indication both of how long I’ve despised the subject, and of how long I’ve pined from the freedom awarded by a college campus.
I pine for an entire class about postmodernist feminist critiques, picnics on a quad, language classes where we practice the language, the sheer number of people who share my passions and interests and hopes and fears, professors who care. I pine for a place where I truly belong.
But where that is, I don’t know. I would say that I would accept suggestions, but my list is narrowed. Now it’s just up to the fate of a rigged game of chance.
Why should I pine for only one institution, when the Lorie Laughlins of the world have overtaken them all. Wherever I end up, I will inevitably leave for abroad, in search of bigger and better and more foreign experiences.
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