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October 6, 2004:
Making
a list: The best-laid plans for senior year
By Jen Albinson ’05
Several of my friends and I worked as ushers during Commencement
2004. The job proved stressful at times: negotiating with families
who had left their tickets in Milwaukee, forming impenetrable human
chains to keep mom and her new digital camera from blocking the
procession, and deciding whether the rain was strong enough to distribute
the thousands of orange ponchos Princeton had purchased for the
occasion. But the job certainly had its perks. We got paid. We got
to see all our older friends graduate. We got front row seats to
hear Jon Stewart’s talk on Class Day. All in all, a pretty
sweet deal.
Most importantly, the usher job got us thinking about Commencement
2005. After three fun-filled years of studying away the days and
dancing away the nights, celebrating birthdays and dealing with
breakups, organic chemistry and Latin American history, the end
was in sight. While watching the Class of 2004 adjust its caps and
tassels, my roommate Emily and I had a minor panic attack, thinking
how fast the last three years had gone. Days earlier in the P-rade
we’d heard the Class of 1994 serenade the Class of 2004 with
the lines: “Never leave, never leave.” We thought about
all the things left to do.
And so the summer after our junior year, we created The List.
My roommates and I were far-flung: Andrea was in New York, Courtney
in Princeton, both Emily Moxley and Emily Chiswick-Patterson in
Boston, and I in Washington, D.C. E-mail provided the only way to
compose The List. Emily C. kicked it off. She proposed that sometime
during our senior year, we accomplish the following: an afternoon
at the Art Museum, a big family tailgate party before a football
game, regularly scheduled roommate cocktail hours, a trip to the
Jersey Shore, and dinner at the Princetonian Diner on Route One.
Emily M. suggested more late-night dance parties – a remedy
for stress, based on singing along to Enrique Iglesias and dancing
on couches. Emily C. wrote back with another stress-buster: a meditation
workshop already planned at the Carl A. Fields Center for the first
week of school. Someone suggested a trip to the nearest Six Flags
theme park. I threw out Tiger Night, the annual event that showcases
all of the performing arts groups for freshmen. Andrea suggested
going to Philadelphia for cheesesteaks.
A month after the start of school, having gotten settled into
our rooms, our classes, and our status as the oldest kids on campus,
we had yet to accomplish anything on our list. We tried to go to
Tiger Night, but the freshmen filled Richardson to capacity. I guess
it isn’t for seniors after all. We completely forgot about
the meditation workshop. One night we all piled into a car and drove
out to Route One with the intent of going to the diner, but ended
up at a Tex-Mex place instead. Appropriate weather for trips to
the beach and Six Flags has come and gone. We can see the Art Museum
from our window, but haven’t stopped in once. The family tailgate
failed; we couldn’t even get two families to coordinate their
visits to Princeton, much less five. The cheesesteaks are still
an option, but two of us are vegetarians.
In theory, senior year is all about accomplishing things. Finishing
course requirements. Writing a thesis. Applying to graduate school.
Finding a job. Growing up. Graduating. As much as senior year is
about checking off these items, the failure of The List helped us
to realize what seems to be dawning on every member of the Class
of 2005: that the joy of the year is really found in the spaces
between the items you check off your lists. It is the Saturday night
we didn’t go out to the Street until 2:30 in the morning because
we were having so much fun talking in our room. It is the arch sing
that we just happened to walk by. It is dropping our work and running
to the field hockey game in the rain, just to cheer on our friends.
It’s our plans to decorate our carrels in Firestone Library,
not the time spent working in them.
Every year, I spend the week before school leading a freshman
Outdoor Action backpacking orientation trip. This year, I had six
great freshmen on my trip, and we took the Green Mountains of Vermont
by storm. I tried to impart many important lessons on my frosh:
the best secret study spaces on campus, the places where you can
score free cups of coffee, the most discrete way to eat your lunch
in class if you don’t have time to eat it in the dining hall,
how to pull an all-nighter. The lesson I did not impart on them,
the lesson that I myself hadn’t learned yet, was to enjoy
those moments when seemingly nothing is happening. So with this
column over, I am off to see my roommates. They’re lounging
on the couches, and I don’t want to miss a second of it.
Jen Albinson ’05 is a history major and can be reached
at albinson@princeton.edu.
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