Just a few months ago, when I was still a senior at Middlebury, I felt pretty cool. I had a really loud best friend. Sophomores re-tweeted me a lot. I ate with intimidating people in Atwater, and we pretty much monopolized off-campus parties (at least for anyone who'd heard the word "Alpenglow"). I even knew every bro/fro at the bar and all the people living on Shannon St.
But now, as a "febbed reg," I'm currently in my last semester at Middlebury while all my friends appear to be (at least on Instragram) at an outdoor music festival in a wine bar during a SoulCycle class, which has a great view of the Brooklyn Bridge. I'm still here in Middlebury – feeling kind of intimidated.
Here's a real scenario:
A girl from my freshman hall, who has just started working full-time in some nebulous administrative office on campus, stops me on College St.
"Hey!" she says – because no matter how little we've talked in the last few years, there's something respectably old school about greeting each other now – "What are you doing at Middlebury?"
Loudly, I tell her: "Oh, I febbed myself," and hope that everyone in a half-mile radius hears. It is my attempt to regain confidence amongst the sea of 2013 darties I've been stumbling into.
Get this: in the fall of 2008, you had never been a student at Middlebury; I, on the other hand, was (still a virgin and really afraid to poop in my dorm) already a college freshman, suckas!
There are only about 10 of us "reg-to-feb" seniors still roaming campus, and I saw half of them last night at the bar, which I think might be telling. When the 10 of us (a.k.a. those students you see around campus and whisper to your friend, "why is that kid still here?") first showed up for freshman orientation, things were a little different – like, oh, let's see, THERE WAS NO FINANCIAL CRISIS. For two long, glorious months. Well, maybe one and a half.
Here are 10 things you might not know happened during the B.F.C. (Before Financial Crisis) era:
1. FIC was a dining hall. It was a like an under-ground cavern/ski lodge turned poorly-lit "canteen."
2. The Bunker was totally a thing, and not just for two minutes a semester before someone smashed a window.
3. My best friend was "straight."
4. Pesto didn't have any parsley in it. IT WAS REALÂ PESTO.
5. We had a hoedown AND a faculty band, which made for even more super awkward freshmen orientation dance moves.
6. Vincent Jones IV '12 was an undiscovered hero.
7. My first boyfriend broke up with me on the fourth floor of Stewart Hall.
8. I had a clinical addiction to soft serve.
9. Middlebury paid for our orientation trips! Otherwise known as "MiddView," the program lasted about as long as anyone's first semester "relationship."
10. And here's the kicker: every single day, Atwater served ... DINNER.
Those were the days. There was nothing better than walking toward the twinkling lights of Atwater, terrified to pass all my upperclassmen "unicorns" (a phrase popularized by Israel Carr circa 2008.) Another thing that happened back then: I imagined that come May 2012, I'd be hugging my grandma, eating a final black bean burger under Mead Chapel and getting out of this town. Instead, I wandered up the hill to my own graduation 20 minutes late. I watched the rest of my class file past in black robes while I stood among the mass of (very sober) parents and tried not to freak out.
It can be hard being a "febbed reg." Even the name sounds really dirty, like we used a gross swab to fix an STD. We're a mismatched group of free spirits, reformed (?) screw-ups, procrastinators and slow-movers still clinging on to this panther ride for dear life. But I think I'm proud to be a part of this group, even if you don't know who we (or our former Twitter accounts) are. So, to the roughly 10-person class of 2012 turned 2012.5 (who will never read this column, but could the one over-eager-politically-conscious sophomore Feb please alert them to it?): let's enjoy our semester, before the world reminds us that being almost 23 makes you kind of an idiot. For now, we're over it.
Still Here
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