If I knew then…

what I know now.

I spent four days playing college student last week. Leaving my family at home, it was just me in a dorm room among a bunch of strangers. Kinda like my first week of college. I made friends quickly. I fell into a routine (skip breakfast, Starbucks run, 8:30 class, lunch outdoors…etc). It really felt like I was the 20-year-old me again, only masquerading as a grown-up.

I half-expected to run into my collegiate self coming around the bend in the road from Dorm 15. Long hair – really long hair, and poufy bangs – or worse, no bangs at all. Wearing shorts and sweaters from places like The Limited and Wet Seal. Or going for contrived grunge in clunky shoes, plaid shirts and torn jeans.

I spent a lot of time alone, walking up and down, to and fro, from class to class. While I brought a roomate along last week, she was on her own track and we met up infrequently. The normal distractions of my little ankle-biters were not around.

I spent a lot of time thinking about that four year span of time. Wishing I had done things differently, really.

I would have studied more. That sounds strange, I’m sure, but had I known… This is it, You will never go to grad school – this is your chance. Learn now. The men and women who taught there were my mentors – I would have spent more time at their feet, soaking in every word.

I would have stayed overseas the entire year instead of just one semester. I have yet to go back – I always thought I would visit often, even live there, but it hasn’t been so. Money was tight, yes, but what’s another$2K of debt when living abroad is at stake? A drop in the proverbial bucket of life-experience, that’s what.

I would have taken time just to be...to soak in the enormity of that place. The breathtaking beauty of the sun and the ocean and the mountains.

I would have spent more time knowing people and less time trying to know everyone. I would have dated less had I known that The One was not to be found there. He came later – not long after, but later. Foolishly, I spent so much time trying to find him that I think I lost precious opportunities to get to know other people in deeper, more significant ways.

I would have reached beyond what I knew to discover more of what I didn’t. I didn’t know how to relate to people that were not from the same background, the same viewpoints. I was foolish for not trying harder to reach beyond what I already knew. Perhaps this is a natural result, or consequence, of a sheltered childhood? Perhaps I just wasn’t mature enough – I wanted to reach out, I just didn’t know how. Either way – my bubble was just too small.

I would have found a way to have a car. Not having a car is bad. Not having a car in Malibu is far worse.

I would have lived off campus (with said car) and saved a bucket of money on rent (which would have financed said semester in London). But I would’ve kept the same roommates…

I would have done Songfest. What was I thinking?! To miss out on such a significant and extraordinarily fun experience. That was dumb. Just plain dumb.

I would have gone to Heidelberg instead of London. Just kidding – I don’t regret that for a second (even though my closest friends all went to Germany). Except maybe I would have chosen Florence, instead. Still haven’t made it to Florence.

I would have taken the same classes, chosen the same major, and sat up front…again. I’m just like that. I love school. I love papers and I even get a weird satisfaction from study. I loved handing in a thick folio of weeks’ work. I loved blue book tests and essays. About my class choices – I wouldn’t change a thing.

But I can’t go back, I can’t do it again. It was nice to pretend for a few days, but the real me was so happy to go home to my ankle-biters and their eager, boyish affection.

My regrets are small, at least.

I was blessed, so richly blessed and shaped and nurtured in that environment. I’m certain I would not be the me that is sitting here had I not been the me gadding about down there, so many years ago.

As I look through old albums, I see that one thing hasn’t changed. The people that made those four years so exceptional – for the most part – are all still a part of my life. The accepted me then, silly as I was, and they accept me now.

Maybe I don’t really have so many regrets after all.