History major fully prepared to be full-time waitressFriends, family, and devoted readers who probably have some sort of pseudo-cult devoted to my glowing visage, I have an exciting announcement—I’m graduating a semester early. And not only am I totally on the ball, making all my friends look bad, I’m confident that my degree in history has fully prepared me for the next step I’m taking in life—working full-time as a waitress.
Throughout my college career (my tenure at UT, if you will), whenever I have told anyone that I am a history major, they immediately ask “What are you gonna do with that? Teach?” After I inaudibly sigh and die a little on the inside, I explain that no, just because I enjoy history doesn’t mean I want to teach it, I have bigger fish to fry—or at least bigger fried fish to serve. I know all my hours spent ignoring my reading assignments and bullshitting on every single one of my tests will pay off this next year as I ignore the “Employees must wash hands” sign and bullshit with my customers.
Now comes the part of my goodbye dedicated strictly to inside jokes and cheesy thank yous, so you can stop reading if you want but know that you’ll be kicked out of the pseudo-cult if they find out.
To the Travesty girls: I never thought I’d enjoy girls-only sleepovers after the age of 13, but you have successfully proven me wrong again and again. You’re all a bunch of fabulously classy ladies for varying reasons, but know I will always respect Sara’s body as a temple of purity, I will always want to make out with Veronica, I will always gush about Billy Corgan with Samantha, and Kathryn—I will always love you. Oooohh yeah.
To the Travesty Staff, 2004-2006: Thank you all for providing me with endless bouts of tear-jerking laughter, drunken nights of unspeakably hilarious and sometimes dangerous antics (Banquet ’05 and a bunch of cavemen with blunt objects comes to mind) and more inspiration and insight than I have ever received from any of my professors. I’ve finished growing up with you guys, and I’m a funnier person because of it, which is all I’ve ever wanted to be. Thank you for making my college experience totally amazing, and you’re welcome for all the Marshall Lanceston jokes I’ve let you have at my expense.
To my friends: Thank you for putting up with my endless requests to read the Travesty and questions such as “What other chronic, debilitating diseases are funny?” I love you all more than you know and will be bugging you every night of the coming semester, wondering if maybe you want to drink tonight because hey, I’ve just got work tomorrow. Lindsay, you can be on staff now.
To the Travesty readers: Never forget. Ever.