“When I studied abroad, I maintained a certain outlook on life. As if nothing mattered; every opportunity would be my last, so I should grab it and run. I remember promising that, when I got home, I would hold on to her—the spontaneous girl who was there for a good time, not a long one. I lost her for a bit, but I think senior year might be bringing her back.”
Above is a snippet from a conversation with my best friend and roommate over pizza and board games at a local brewery—one of the many items on my senior-year bucket list. As we sat in an industrial, somewhat grungy booth, we reminisced about times in life when we felt truly free. Something as simple as taking control of a Friday night with no plans felt wildly liberating. This year, I’m not waiting for an invite or for someone else to make the plan. I’m using every last opportunity to explore the city that has been my home for three years and that, at times, still feels like a distant stranger.
As previously mentioned, my senior bucket list is L-O-N-G and constantly growing. From game days to stand-up comedy shows to horse retirement farms, I will NOT leave without checking every item off. Beyond my chronic sense of lachesism, the list is my chance to leave college with more fun stories and life lessons. These activities not only bring me closer to the people I love but also foster a deeper appreciation for the person I have become. Through the fleeting weeks of senior year, I plan to make time for adventure. In doing so, I hope to reflect on what happens when I intentionally place pockets of joy into a mundane, yet highly efficient, routine. In fewer words, I want to have fun on a weekday.
We kick off this series swinging: home bartending. As a girl who prides herself on her never-ending list of hobbies, bartending has always been on my radar. I grew up around mixology and with an older brother to school me on the fact that a true daiquiri is neither frozen nor neon pink (shocking). So, when I learned that my school offered a weekly home bartending class, I immediately battled my way into a spot in the coveted course.
The first week was a nice introduction to the world of spirits. We learned about the distillation of flavorless liquors and how to make classic cocktails like a G&T and Moscow Mule. During our second class, things got more interesting. We began with a blind vodka tasting (something that sounds horribly depraved to the average college student), ranking them by perceived price point. I discovered that the source of vodka actually changes its taste and mouthfeel. Some are sweet and viscous, while others are sharp and dry. We then crafted stirred martinis—a Vesper and a dirty martini—further discerning how different liquors and spirits can alter a cocktail’s base flavor.
By signing up for opportunities like this, I acquire skills that make me a more well-rounded human being. Sure, most of my weekly curriculum consists of legal theorems and psychological research studies, but closing my laptop for the day doesn’t mean my learning has to stop. Passion comes from extending yourself beyond what is required for success. I have faith that I will be successful, but sometimes I worry about losing the things that make me glow. Treating my hobbies as a pedagogical practice helps me view them as equally important to my central ambitions—a practice I plan to take with me long after graduation day.
While I am usually the one doing the convincing, I later found myself being convinced. In a small college town where you can feel a thousand eyes on you, I struggle to step outside my comfort zone when it comes to public perception. Thus, when my friend arrived at my apartment with enough multicolored wigs for all of us to wear out, I felt a tinge of apprehension. Wearing a wig would be silly and cute, but it also meant my hair would look bad, my face would be framed weirdly, and we would draw lots of extra attention. Still, by the time we left, I was sporting a bright red wig and blackout sunglasses (totally incognito).
Apparently… not as incognito as I thought. Everyone definitely knew it was me. Initially, I felt insecure and uncomfortable. Then, I looked at the sea of blue, pink, and green hair around me and settled into the fact that I stood out. For all the times we are told to blend in, adding some intrigue actually makes for the best nights. After all, what is there to glean from someone who is just like everyone else?
That night, I talked to more strangers than I had in a while. People loved the wigs, and they felt comfortable approaching those who weren’t afraid to do something just for fun. For my entire college experience, I worked to strike the perfect balance between conventional and distinct. I turned up the volume on aspects of my personality I considered offbeat and endearing while turning down physical attributes that would set me apart. Wig night made me consider the divide between appearance and character. Conforming physically creates a barrier to entry. Sometimes, it takes an interesting jacket, an exotic piece of jewelry, or a bright red wig to get the conversation started.
To close the week, I always like to do some reflection. One of my favorite ways to do this is to meet a friend who challenges my perspective and pushes me to think deeper. Today, we tried a new brunch spot, drank one too many coffees, and talked about art. We discussed how art makes us feel less alone. Whether through words, colors, or sounds, each medium provides a different sense of shared human reality. There is nothing quite like reading a sentence that perfectly encapsulates a feeling you could never describe or understanding the intention behind a painting. Art speaks to our most primal emotions and reminds us that everything is going to be okay because someone has been through this before—and somehow, they turned their pain, fear, hopes, and dreams into something revered.
In the end, it’s these interactions that carry me through the hard parts of my week. Having fun on a weekday is so much more than crossing items off a list. It’s sharing experiences, waking up excited, and feeling like maybe the spontaneity and whimsy of college don’t have to end when you turn the tassel.
“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” — T.S. Eliot
Happy Living
chocolate and politics 