Long ago and oh, so far away

I got my college class newsletter the other day, and it pointed out that around this time 20 years ago, we were spending our first days on campus at Wellesley. I was suitably horrified, of course, but I was also kind of intrigued. Had I written down what my first days at college were like? Did I have any horrifying photos of that time?

Well, I did write things down, but not as much as you'd think. And, when I went looking for that old journal, when my curiosity got the better of me, I discovered that it was exactly 20 years ago today that I had my first day of classes. What I wrote down then doesn't really bear repeating (I noted my class schedule, some of the people I had met, the usual), but what struck me was that it was a bit more melancholy than I remember being. I know we all tend to see the past through rose-colored glasses, blah blah blah, but I really remember having a good time at Wellesley. Sure, there were bad times (all-nighters writing papers, friendships lost, the usual), but I mostly remember being happier than I had been before.

Apparently, however, that's not the sort of thing a pretentious 19-year-old writes in her "journal." She's got to be angsty and shit, and talk about everyone being phony -- at least I had the good grace to point out that I was phony, too. Bygones. The point is this: I am old. College was a long time ago. Many things have changed, but my love for the Dew remains constant, as well as my predilection to point at things in photos. And as much as I usually think I'd love to go back to that time in my life, I really would rather not. Although I do wish I still had that sweet Star Trek t-shirt. That was the bomb.

May Day

For some reason, May Day always reminds me of Wellesley. Of course, by the time I went there, we no longer danced around poles in cool dresses, but whatevs. If you love old pictures of random stuff, check out all the May Day images from the College Archives, from whence the above was lifted. Sheer awesome.

Fourscore and seven years ago

Okay, so it wasn't quite that long ago, but I've been wanting to get these pictures framed since I graduated college, lo these many moons ago. And J.R. did it for me for Christmas! They are awesome, and I'm comfortable putting them on the internet because there is no way you can blow them up big enough to figure out where I am in either picture. (I think.) I am giving away my graduation year, but I think we all know that I am massively old at this point.

Now I just need to figure out where I'm going to hang them.

Oh, Wellesley women

I can't believe the notorious madam on NCIS went to Wellesley. Yes, the student loans were expensive, but I was an English major and I managed to pay them off without resorting to prostitution (not that I didn't consider it a few times, along with selling an organ or two). No way would she have escaped a single women's studies class and stayed a prostitute! Oh, well, at least she's a nice hooker (more or less). But really, Swelles is not getting the most positive portrayals, people -- although I have to admit I like the hooker way better than the annoying Mona Lisa Smile girls.

Sometimes, it's cool to be a writer

Because you get to learn random shit about Thomas Jefferson. Sure, a president and founder of the country, but also, apparently, a list maker. I appreciate that. Also, Wellesley women are not only wicked smart, but fashionable. Not that there was ever any doubt.

The trees have eyes

As seen on the quad at Wellesley.

Kittens and lambs and mini horses, oh my!

They had a petting farm come to Wellesley today to help us relax. You have to love working at a place that thinks up things like "Here, baby animals. This will make you feel better." And they were right. I held a tiny kitty, which was so adorable I thought I might die from the cuteness, especially when it feel asleep despite chaos and strangers all around. There were two lambs, one slightly younger than the other, and the baby kept letting out the most piteous bleats whenever its mother wandered away. And don't get me started on the mini horses. I mean, seriously, people. Mini horses. How can you fight that? I didn't; I let the cuteness wash over me. It's already starting to wear off, but damn, it was nice while it lasted.

The pointless yet poignant crisis of a 30-year-old woman

I went to see Dar Williams at Wellesley last night. I'm pretty sure the last time I saw Dar was also at Wellesley -- when I was a student. Sweet baby Jesus, when did I get to be this old? Dar was excellent as usual, and it was a classic Wellesley moment when all 400-plus women sang along to "As Cool As I Am." Really, the highlights were thus: Macking on Millhouse from We're All About the Love These Days, and getting milkshakes and fries after the concert with Erica and Melanie. Made sitting on the floor for three hours and feeling 800 years old kind of worth it.

Decisions, decisions

After catching a few minutes of Wild Weddings tonight (I couldn't look away! It was better than a car wreck!), I can't decide if I want to have a pirate-theme wedding (let's face it, I'd make a terrific wench) or if I should make everyone sing the Wellesley Alma Mater -- you know, like the couple who had the USC marching band at their wedding.

After mentioning the idea to fellow alumna Jen, she said, "What the hell are you talking about?" So then I had to actually sing the damn thing. And she still had no clue. She is a bad alum. Bad! She still has to come to my wedding and sing, though. Now all I have to do is find someone to marry, but that will be easier than deciding between being a wench and being a psychotic Wellesley alum.

This is my life as a cover girl

Well, my blogging article got the cover. It's a little freaky knowing that thousands of Wellesley alumnae are going to be reading about my blogging habit. And potentially stopping by for a little visit.

All this freakiness wouldn't have been possible without my Wellesley peeps. Thanks, Wendy, Stone, Lisa, Michelle, TJ, and Judith.

The girls of summer

Katie and I went to see Wellesley's first varsity softball team at their home-opener today. I don't know why it's taken Wellesley this long to come up with a varsity team, but it was worth the wait. That underhand pitch is wicked, and Wellesley is the perfect place to enjoy a beautiful spring day and some sports. We listened to the Sox game on the way home, and that was fun, too (especially when Ortiz ripped the 3-run homer while we were in the middle of Rt. 9 and I pounded on Katie's dashboard). Unfortunately, it didn't end so well.

It's a long season, people. And I'm going to love every minute of it.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these

I had to wake up at 6 a.m. to head off to work Wellesley's A Day to Make a Difference. I have to tell you honestly, I wasn't so much into the difference-making at the crack of dawn. Nonetheless, I helped usher all our volunteers out into the world and then promptly returned home to take a nap. I set my alarm for 2 p.m., which just may be the strangest wake-up time of my young life. I would have just slept indefinitely, but I was supposed to get up to take my friend to Best Buy to purchase a TV set. Once I dragged myself out of bed (for the second time today), she called and canceled. Was I tempted to return immediately to bed? Hell, yes. But I had lunch instead and surfed the internet. At which point I remembered that today is Sept. 11. And now I'm glad that my sister woke me up with a phone call from the grocery store. And I'm glad that I hugged Leigh this morning. And I'm glad that I remembered all these things and more.

Reinforcements

Today, I had to wear the twin set with the pearls. I had to. I was having lunch with my dad, and without the armor, I would have felt all of 12. As it was, I had lunch with my dad in the student center, and I was stretching to feel 14. There's just something about being in the presence of your parents that makes you feel ... a little less than professional. I did give him a brief tour of my lovely campus, however, and the sheer breadth of my knowledge of random facts about Wellesley amazes even me. I almost bought my niece a Wellesley t-shirt, but since she didn't even want to come to campus to see me, I refrained. ("I don't like colleges," she says. Typical 13-year-old. She'll be singing a different tune when she wants to play ye olde Wellesley Legacy Card.)

Business and pleasure

Last night, I had to attend Wellesley's annual Quintessence Day lecture, which this year featured Anna Deavere Smith. I say "had to attend," but I mean "had the distinct pleasure of attending." I knew Anna was cool and a fabulous actress -- c'mon, I watch the West Wing -- but I didn't know that she was a gifted playwright as well. The pieces she performed from Twilight: Los Angeles were simply stunning. If she is ever performing within a 200-mile radius of you, go see her.

(I'm super bossy this week, eh? I'm okay with that.)

Truth be told

I went to see Mona Lisa Smile with my office today. (Hey, we work at Wellesley College, we gotta know what's being said about us.) I have only one thing to say about the movie and Wellesley: Yes, my school is that freakishly beautiful.

Otherwise, they pretty much got everything else wrong and made a bad movie to boot.

Sometimes thinking about the universe freaks me out

While listening to several student presenters at Wellesley's Tanner conference, I realized Earth is just a little tiny speck in the vastness of space. It made me kind of anxious. Once we were done talking about sunspots and Mars and such, it got easier. The next presenter talked about geology, and I haven't seen anyone so excited about rocks since I was about 6. (I used to have a rock collection. I found it a few years ago and realized I spent much of my childhood amassing the world's most boring collection of stones.)

The conference's purpose is to explore student's work outside of the classroom. When I was a student, I didn't do work outside the classroom (unless you count my job with the campus post office, which I loved). I enjoy going to these presentations because I get a little glimpse at learning for the sake of learning again. And there is something exhilarating about discovering just how little I actually learned in college.

Working late falls into the category of seriously freaky shit, which may seriously be my favorite phrase

Currently vying for most surreal moment in the life of Jen Garrett: Singing and dancing to You Can Do It with my coworkers, at 10:30 at night, in the hallway of an administration building at Wellesley. Now, really, can my life get any weirder?

Born to run

Today was the Tufts 10K for Women in Boston, and the weather cooperated nicely. I was at the race to cheer on my girls (Jen, Jen, and April -- and, while there, Jen and I ran into our former roommate Jen, so I was cheering on three Jens and one April by the end. I know. Life as a Jen is complicated, people). I had a great time cheering on my friends; I am an excellent fan. I was trying to get the people around me more into it (a la the Wellesley Scream Tunnel), but I didn't have much luck. I was smart and wore my Wellesley t-shirt, and a couple of the runners pointed to me and said "Wellesley!" which got them an extra loud scream. What was really cool about the race was that it was all women -- all ages, all sizes, moms pushing their kids, women in wheelchairs, and women who are much older than me and in much better shape. It was ... inspiring. It almost made me want to run it myself next year. But I think I'm much better suited to the sidelines.

The soul selects her own society

Apparently, Susie didn't learn the handshake. A case of woeful neglect on the part of her FYM (or was it a FC in her day? Hmm). I'm here to tell you, there is a secret society of women -- no, not like in the Skulls (though Josh Jackson was mega-hot in that movie). Wellesley is just one of a number of fine institutions which supports said society.

And, no, I won't show you the handshake.

Only to be there ...

Now, only my fellow alumnae will get the title reference, but I thought I should alert the world to the upcoming release of Mona Lisa Smile, the Julia Roberts does Dead Poets Society set at Wellesley in 1953. Check out the trailer: Julia Roberts is the only one who doesn't seem to be in 1953. But, for those of you long ago and far away, some of those exterior shots are actually Wellesley, my beloved alma mater. That's Galen Stone Tower! That's Hooprolling! Despite what is sure to be some serious sacrilege, I am there on opening day.