They're finally starting to leave, one by one. Yesterday saw J.P. and Dave off, and Belgium caught her flight home today. It's going to get harder--I'll be the last one here, since I'm leaving Friday. So I guess I'd better get used to it now. This week will test me like nothing else. I've heard there's nothing quite like a freshman hall--I've seen some upperclassman dorms, and they never seemed to have the bustle, the noise, the boisterousness of most freshman halls. Because, let's face it, freshman year is when everything is new and exciting. You're bound to bond in ways you never will again, for better or for worse. I love this place, and I'll never forget the crazy good times.

Go and tell Lord Grenville
That the tide is on the turn
It's time to haul the anchor up
And leave the land astern
We'll be gone before the dawn returns
Like voices on the wind...

Go and tell Lord Grenville
That our dreams have run aground
There's nothing here to keep us
In this shantytown
None of us are caring where we're bound
Like voices on the wind...

And come the day you'll hear them saying
"They're throwing it all away"
Nothing more to say
Just throwing it all away...

-Al Stewart