It’s 11pm, and I’m the last one sitting in the Union Starbucks, too busy poring over weeks of Anatomy notes to realize that the baristas have been clearing their throats around me and trying to usher me out for the past 30 minutes. When I finally get the hint, I blush, feeling bad that I am holding them up on a Monday night, and I shuffle my hundreds of notes together. “Big test coming up?” one of them asks as I shove my notebook in my backpack. I groan, muttering “about two per week.” He smiles as he wipes down my table, but as I start to leave, he calls after me: “Only 5 weeks left, you know.” I laugh and wave goodbye, and then stop in my tracks. That couldn’t be right — only five weeks? I was just getting used to the Midwest; there was no way I was ready to go back to Boston.
I’ll miss my friends, who, unfortunately do not live in Massachusetts. I’ll miss my classes, as difficult as they are. I’ll even miss Bursley — sort of. Most of all, I’ll miss all those quirks and oddities that I had never seen or heard of before coming here. In fact, realizing I only had five weeks left to shop at Meijer made me want to hop on the nearest bus and spend my life savings to cope with my grief.
There’s definitely more than 10, but if I had to choose what I’ll miss most while I’m trapped on the East Coast this summer…
1. That Good ‘Ol (Midwestern?) Charm
The East Coast is known for a lot of things — the seafood, the coastline, our Bahstan accents. One thing we are not known for however, is our homegrown, sweet hospitality to strangers. You’re more likely to talk to Tom Brady at a local Dunkin’ Donuts than you are to see people strike up a friendly conversation on a morning subway ride in Boston. Here in Ann Arbor though, they give out free hugs on the Diag. The people at Starbucks not only remember your order, they make it a priority to remember your name, and ask you about your weekend. Just yesterday, I had a ten-minute conversation with a middle school Girl Scout as she explained to me why in some states “Samoas” are also known as “Caramel deLites.” And what will I do without 2nd floor Ugli, and all the socializing and non-productiveness that it brings to my life?
2. Mocking ‘Till I Drop
I always imagined hammocks held those adventurous souls, those that yearned for exploring, those mountaineering men and women who lived in these oval-shaped sacks overlooking forests of silent beauty. Turns out, they also happen to fit stressed, run-down college students who want to nap for an hour before class! It was love at first sight, as I began to annoyingly remind my in-state friends to “bring their hammock!!” each day so I too could curl up in the middle of the Diag and enjoy the beautiful, but fleeting weather that Michigan has to offer. Soon enough, I was affectionately referring to them as ‘mocks,’ as any true enthusiast would. Spring break marked a turning point in our relationship as I realized I was ready for something more serious, making the executive decision to buy my very own. Hopefully, this is a trend I can bring back to the East Coast so people won’t think I look forward to making fun of people each time I exclaim how excited I am to “mock.”
3. How Simple Words Can Become So Complex
I eat them at least 3 out of 7 days a week for breakfast. One word, two syllables. I was raised in tandem with Dictionary.com’s confident pronunciation of bey-guhl. Bey- as in bae, –guhl as in those damn birds at the beach. In the Bursley dining hall, however, I was introduced to the real pronunciation of bagels in Michigan: “baag-els.” Baag- as in a shopping bag, and –els as in L’s, aka those things I take every weekend ;) Although I’m not sure it’s something I’ll bring back to MA, I do respect the creativity behind it. It just goes to show that even when you are pretty sure — even when the dictionary is almost positive — that a word is pronounced a certain way, Michiganders will always prove us wrong. Truly #themichigandifference.
4. Yoopers
Eh? Speaking of strange words, “yoopers” are the biggest culprits of these weird pronunciations of “baag-els.” They also say “vaa-gas” instead of Vegas. Every sentence becomes a question, eh? Yoopers live in a world of their own, technically Michiganders, but oh so much more unique than the rest of them. I’m still so confused as to what the UP consists of — parts of it are farther north than places in Canada, and it’s even been forgotten on some maps. Although so different, although I’ve only met a few, I love da yoopers. Maybe once I learn how to play Yuker I’ll fit in.
5. Chocolate Chip Scones from Espresso Royale
Those who know me well know that not having a Dunkin’ Donuts on Michigan’s campus has been, well, difficult. The amount of times I have considered Ubering to the Dunks in Ypsilanti is, well, absurd (not to fear Dad, I haven’t. Yet.) I am not one to accept defeat though, and admitting my need for a new reliable coffee place was the first step. I found solace at Espresso Royale (Expresso Royale as I called it for the first few weeks), in an iced vanilla latte with cinnamon and a chocolate chip scone if ya know what’s good for ya. Those scones prompted my infamous scone snapchats, being the perfect balance between sweet and savory, a metaphor for my life if you will. As Rihanna once sang, “I found love in a hopeless place,” and once again, she speaks to my soul. It’ll be a long summer without $2 latte Wednesdays, and I look forward to being reunited with the scone-ly coffeeshop for me.
6. Literally all of the nicest weather
50 shades of gray skies is probably the most accurate way I can describe Michigan’s never-ending winter (and spring?) seasons. When we got here in September, it was unbearably hot, and while fall was beautiful, it lasted about 10 minutes before it started to get cold. I’ve heard we got lucky with a mild winter this year, but upperclassmen have told me that the most beautiful time in Ann Arbor is May, June, and July. Just when we leave, and right before we get back. It’ll be nice on the East Coast too I guess, but I will miss out on what is apparently the best time in Ann Arbor while I’m back home.
7. Feelin’ Crossed
I was almost hit by a car every day I was home for spring break, as I jogged across streets and crosswalks carefree and blissfully ignorant of the fact that on the East Coast, cars will not let you cross where and when you want if you do not have the right of way.
But UMich students are comparable to Honey Badgers when it comes to walking around Ann Arbor. We don’t care. We’ll walk when we want. We’ll walk where we want. Hit us, we dare you. Please. Hit us. Pay our tuition.
8. Puppies. Everywhere.
The very first sticker I bought for my laptop at Michigan was the blue iMessage, “I just saw a dog.” It’s true, ask anyone, I’m obsessed. I was deprived of a dog in my childhood, and I guess I am now just subconsciously living out my childish wishes of having a pet by hugging every dog I see. The great thing about Ann Arbor is that there is no shortage of puppies. There’s that Corgi that walks through across the M every so often, and even though it’s bound to fail its first BlueBook, I can’t bear to tell him. Or those two Husky puppies that fall asleep trying to walk through the Diag, because so many people are rubbing their tummies. My personal favorite is the brown, slightly disheveled curly-haired Labradoodle whom I feel a personal connection with — as my friend Brian remarked, “That’s you in a dog.” My hometown does not have this same abundance of animals, and it’s harder than you think to tell your friend that you just want to come over to play with his/her dog.
9. Love for all Body Types
Boston squirrels are gray, skinny, sickly looking. They scurry across streets and up trees, lurking above people in desperation for food. But Michigan squirrels, man. They don’t just run, they regally finesse their way through campus grounds. Their nobility shines throughout their magnificent, orange fur as they approach you walking through the Diag, as if mocking your grasp on that burrito. Two-thirds of American adults are either overweight or are fighting obesity, but I can guarantee, if Michigan squirrels were included in that statistic, that number would increase. Still, we have so much love for them. They are a staple of our university, and I appreciate this newfound love we have for all body types. I’ll miss their mentalities; one day I aspire to have the confidence of a Michigan squirrel.
10. Caring about College Sports
New England sports are actually pretty good. In the summer, we have the Red Sox, in the fall we have the Pats, in the winter we have the Bruins and Celtics. The games are fun, crowded, and always belligerent. I’m always happy that I grew up in a place where professional sports were such a large part of the community’s culture.
But college sports are a different beast. I sometimes imagine what it would have been like to grow up in Ann Arbor, supporting the Wolverines perhaps, rather than the Lions, seeing hundreds of college students swarm the streets Saturday morning, knowing they chased their Natty Light with cereal, and in awe at the fact that they are only just a couple of years older than you. That’s the beauty of college sports, I think. These athletes are our age; in fact, they could be in some of your classes. There’s just something about being surrounded by hundreds of thousands of your closest friends that makes you make you appreciate that something as simple as a football game is enough to tie us all together. Make College Sports Great Again: That’s something that should have (Mass) appeal.
They say wherever you go, go blue, and I’ll be blue this summer without you for sure, Ann Arbor. See ya in the fall, my fellow Wolverines.
Images courtesy of: Helen Gerondeau