To my broads going abroad,
Soon you’ll be world travelers who have given me the world. The fact that our first semester of junior year is practically over and the semester of separation is finally here is both unfathomable and nauseating in the best and worst ways possible. Time is weird, and if I’ve learned anything from the fact that these past three years of college have felt like some sort of an insane blackout experience mixed with random moments of clarity, it’s that it doesn’t get any less weird. Look at it this way: each of us will have two entirely different experiences over the course of this next semester, but although mine will be different, it will be different in an eerie and much less exciting way. The place that we’ve all become so familiar with together will feel completely foreign when we’re apart.
Although you’ll be miles away from your Ann Arbor hoMe, I seriously cannot wrap my head around the idea that this place is supposed continue to feel like hoMe when the people who made it that in the first place will no longer be by my side. Although you won’t be physically here, I promise you we’ll be in constant contact digitally, because I won’t accept anything less. I’m fully honored and ready to take on the role of the most annoying person you never knew you needed. I can’t wait to FaceTime at obscene hours of the night with each of you, and I will happily give up sleep to get on the schedule of each of the countries you’re all visiting. Prague, you’re penciled in for 5 pm. Seville, I’ll give you 6. Rome, call me at 2 am. And Australia, I’ll schedule you for after breakfast. Your stories, your travels, your new friends, new experiences, and new lives are ones I can’t wait to hear about, laugh about and envy from thousands of miles away.
While you explore new bars and clubs, I’ll still be standing in line for Skeeps. While you chill on the “A” of the Amsterdam sign, I’ll pray to god I see that same letter signed on my papers and tests. And when you’re savoring every bite of your authentic Italian pizza, I’ll be drunkenly trying to recall the toppings of my NYPD slice from the night before. I know you’ll all find your Pablos, only to realize you’re the true star (not the Italian boy who’s offering to buy you pasta), you’ll dance your way through the Barcelona streets (Hollaahhhh cheetah sistahhhs, but if the streets are cobblestone please make sure you’re careful in your 6 inch. heels- we all know how this could end), and you’ll definitely try vegemite (I’m literally ordering you to try it and tell me if it tastes the same as nutella because if so, we’re about to be amazon priming that sh*t in bulk). Your Instagram captions will be insane, your snap stories on fleeeeek, and you’ll become the most basic people you know, taking pictures in front of the Lennon wall and plopping down on a bench in Park Guell—but don’t hate yourselves for any of this. Accept it, love it, own it, and cherish it because I’ll never give you a free pass to be this basic again. You’re going to make each of these new places your b*tches, and this world is certainly nowhere near ready.
But just know that while you experience what will be the most unforgettable moments of your life in these new cities of yours, I’ll be here in Ann Arbor, counting down the days until you return with me to the city that will always be ours.
The most love and sap,
The Ann Arbwh*res