God Bless the WB...

Every morning at 9:00, my roommate and I watch Dawson's Creek on TBS while we get ready for work. Go ahead. Call us shallow. Call us immature losers. Call us superficial girly-girls.

Let's be honest, watching high school troubles is a way better way to start your morning than hearing about the death toll in Iraq.

So, after rekindling our love for watching other "teenagers" struggle through those awkward years, we decided to purchase seasons one and two of that wonderful show this weekend. Seventy dollars later, we now sit, watching episode after episode (COMMERCIAL FREE -- WHAT A GODSEND), talking about Pacey and Joey as if we are all the best of friends. And since we have been watching it, I realize, although the actors playing the 15 year-olds are really in their late 20s...still, their situations make me miss high school.

I know, who would have thought, right? By the end of senior year, I was more than ready to get out of little Wilmette...to get away from that tiny all-girls' school, to meet new people in a new city. And I don't regret it one bit. But there is something about high school that I really do miss.

I think I really miss knowing exactly what was going to happen each day, you know? Wake up at 6:30, throw on the uniform, go to class, listen to morning prayer, have lunch, cross country practice after school from exactly 3:30-6:00...everything was so scheduled, which is something I need. I freaked out at the beginning of freshman year here in DC because I had so much free time. Who would have ever thought free time could make someone so frustrated? I hated the surprise element of college, and no matter how hard you try to create a routine in college, you know you can't stick to it. You know..."Yeah, I'll wake up every morning before my 9:35, go to the gym, shower, go to class, grab lunch, go to my next 2 classes, come home, do homework, eat dinner, then go to the library, study, and then hang out with my friends until I go to bed at a reasonable hour." Sounds like the mind of a loser, right? Sounds like my mind the first week of freshman year. But as soon as I could say "Thurston", my anal-retentive routine was diminished to nothing more than a neurotic trait. My roommates would stay up for hours on end, never once going to bed at the same time, while I was "that girl" who went to bed every night at 11:00. I was the girl that got to class 20 minutes before anyone else, and would freak out if I was anywhere near missing that deadline.

Luckily, I have come to accept, and to an extent, embrace the randomness of college nights. I love the spontaneous decision to go hang out by the monuments, or stay up way past when I should to talk with my roommate. I like being able to decide whether or not I really need to go to class, or what classes I even want to take. In a way, it is nice to have so much undecided...although we all have to figure stuff out eventually.

I think a part of me will always miss high school. Looking back, everything seemed so easy and black-and-white; there was no real room for a gray area. You go to class, you make good grades, you get involved, you graduate, and then it's on to college. College is where that gray area rears its (sometimes ugly) head and smacks us in the face with reality: time to make decisions for ourselves.

If only those decisions were simple, like on Dawson's Creek...which pair of yachting shoes should I wear? Whose window should I sneak into tonight? Which boy should I kiss at Capeside High's dance on Friday?

Oh, TBS...