In two weeks, I am going to the University of Massachusetts to watch my younger sister graduate from college. Scary. Growing up, Heather and I were four grades apart, (and haven't been in school together since I was in the 5th grade). But, in real life years--we're almost five apart. I know that in the grand scheme of things this is not a very big age difference. But growing up, at times, our age difference, felt massive. It is hard for me to comprehend that Heather is a real person, (as are all of her friends). As the youngest of three, Heather will always be the baby of our family.
For so long, Heather (better known as Heatzbabi or Little Baby Fatt Face) was our pet. She was our mascot. She was this adorable little peanut, who you just wanted to squeeze. If you knew Heaty when she was younger, then you know the way her voice used to sound. (BGbabe does a pretty great impersonation). "War" is what she called me. (That's Laur-- in case you weren't sure, because someone couldn't pronounce their L's until they were nine). Heaty was always teeny tiny. (She still is). As an eight year old, she looked about four. (Now her teeny-tininess translates to killer bod).
Heatzbabi was my roommate (in a very small room) for seventeen years, (Ages 5-22). Seventy-nine percent of the time we lived together in a peaceful co-existence. But we had our moments too. When we were little, we had tea parties with our dolls in our room. Did I used to trick her into playing a game called "check" that forced her to clean our room? Yes. (Did my OCD kick in at early age?) Why, sure! Did I once try to deflate her little baby pot belly with a basketball pump? Okay, so sioux me. Did we once take part in an organized pie fight in our kitchen set up by our mom? And are there pictures to prove this? Sadly, the answer is yes. Did we stay up late on school nights discussing 3rd base? Duh. I was her older sister, I had to prepare her for what was to come. Did Jeremy (Judy) and I force her to sit bitch on every car ride ever, of her entire life, telling her that she had to, because she was "the smallest?" Guilty as charged.
It's hard to believe that in a couple of months, Little Baby-Fattface will enter the working world, (and will probably move to Murray Hill). It's hard to believe, because I am still having trouble comprehending that it has been almost four years to the day since my own graduation. It's funny...when I graduated from college, (and high school) I thought that my life was actually over. (I've always had a flare for the dramatics). The night that I graduated from college, my friends and I went to Charlie O's (our favorite bar), sat around a table and cried. And, when I say, "my friends" I do actually mean my manliest male friends. I remember feeling as though I was losing everything, and gaining nothing. The emptiness that I felt was overwhelming. After packing up the college home that I had loved, (Ocean View for only $450 a month...those were the days). I drove home to New Jersey. I listened to Daniel Powter's "Had a Bad Day" on repeat, for THREE HOURS, I cried myself straight through the state of Connecticut.
I thought that my life would never be the same again. And ya know what? It wasn't. There is no time like college. When else in your life can you sleep until two on a weekday, live with five of your friends, binge drink six nights a week, and have virtually no responsibilities? However, one can only live that lifestyle for so long before it starts to take a toll on your body. I feel happy and settled (and much healthier) in my life now, in ways that the twenty-two year old me could never have even imagined. I have made my home in NYC amongst so many of my greatest friends, and I still get to live like a college kid (on the weekend anyway).
Will I cry watching my sister graduate from college? Absolutely. But, do I know that she'll be just fine, and enjoy life post college? Of course. So, to Heaty--who I know is feeling sad--smile, babe. There is life after college, and a pretty good one too.
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