Hey Bulldog

Today was the last day of Bulldog Days, the three days in which Yale propaganda is cranked out so well that it puts the former Soviet Union to shame. Flyers, speeches by famous professors, performances and pageantry all fill the two days to the brim, giving the prefrosh a sleep-deprivation-induced euphoria that, as the theory goes, will help them decide to come here.  

Now, I'm not knocking Bulldog Days.  I think it's good that students are allowed a few days on campus, to get a feel for the people and what it's like to Be a Student at Yale.  As a prefrosh, Bulldog days was an excellent way to make friends I have to this day.  And it also allowed me to see all the things I could do if I had all the time in the world.  As a student, however, I see some of its inherent issues; I belong to multiple organizations, and all of them held an event in the last 48 hours.  I also have a paper due, in addition to various other bits of work.  Also, I have prefrosh to host.  So when some come back and mess up my suite, don't take any of my suggestions as far as going to things, and keep me up at night, I take umbrage.  

But the thing that scares me is that I was a prefrosh a year ago.  365 days ago.  A song from Rent ago.  And here I am, changed, no longer the bright eyed high schooler, and now grown into myself.  From a seed to a seedling.  This year has flown faster than any other, and yet more has happened to me in these months than any other.    I have become accustomed to relying on myself to get things done, to living in a city, to being a student, to college life, and I can't think of living otherwise now.  

My, how time flies.