Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Here’s to You, Georgetown

So it’s actually May. Unbelievable. As we near the “G”-word that no one wants to say or hear, talk is shifting more and more to the various lasts that everyone is experiencing. Such talk is inevitable but undeniably heartbreaking.

Upon remembering that I had a Senior Viewpoint to write, all of the grand words of wisdom that I had composed in my head during idle moments last semester and even earlier instantly evaporated. If senior year has taught me anything, it’s that I’m no sage. I’m listening to Hilary Duff as I write this, for crying out loud. I don’t have anything impressive to offer, but in hopes of a fitting tribute to my time here, I’d like to offer a simple series of toasts to a small fraction of the people, places and things over the best four years of my life:

Here’s to New South. My New South, the real New South of 2001-02, not the cleaned-up, family-friendly sham that has taken its place. They can get rid of the stained carpets and chinks in the walls, but they can never take away the heart.

Here’s to Chicken Finger Thursday. Seven fingers, once a week, for 30 weeks a year, for four years. I’ve had more than 800 of the things and I don’t think I could ever have my fill. Don’t get me started on Wingo’s, or on how much ranch and barbeque sauce that probably means I’ve consumed.

Here’s to THE HOYA. You’ve given me a creative outlet and a remarkable free reign of subject matter (sorry again about all those Mariah Carey hate letters). Thanks to you for that, and thanks to the three or four people that I’ll assume read my column. It’s meant a lot.

Here’s to my appendix. While I don’t appreciate the semester of recuperation from its removal, I’m very grateful for the refreshed look at Georgetown I got when I was finally healthy again. So take that, you enflamed little jerk.

Here’s to digital photography. The hard drive of my computer has become, through this miracle, a slideshow of memories, such as Pirate Party II, Homecoming 2005, Senior Auction and (of course) the Mustachio White Trashio Bashio. Someday when I’m watching CNBC and dozing off on the couch, I’ll be able look back and have visual proof that I did some pretty cool stuff back in the day.

Here’s to Villa Le Balze. For a month in summer 2004 I lived a dream life. And fortunately, no amount of pinching could wake me up.

Here’s to The Tombs. Even on weeknights – well, let’s face it, on every night. Because while I never enjoy the fuzzy-headedness that I feel the next morning as I scramble to get ready for class, I’ll never forget belting out Van Halen’s “Why Can’t This Be Love?” at last call every ’80s Night surrounded by some of the best people I’ll ever know. An aside – if you haven’t had either a Buffalo Chicken Sandwich or a Hot and Famous Omelette yet, you’d better get on that. Or else.

Here’s to my family. Thank you for being there for me and for encouraging me in the incredible way you have. Sorry about calling Georgetown “home” so many times, Mom and Dad, but I just can’t help it. I know you understand, and Googs, you will someday soon. I’ll be a short train ride away next year, so get ready to see me for laundry trips and home-cooked dinners.

Here’s to my friends. You all know who you are. Nothing I say here can dignify the depth of feeling that I have for each and every one of you, but I’ll try anyway. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to grow up, but thankfully not too much, with you, through the good times and the bad. I only hope that I have provided you with a fraction as much joy as you’ve given me. I love you. And I can’t wait until we can all say “we did it,” because we’ve done it all together. Hoya fucking Saxa.

And, in closing, here’s to the time we have left. Class of 2005, let’s finish it up right. Cheers.

Pat Monahan is a senior in the College. He is a former GUIDE editor and member of THE HOYA’s editorial board.

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