So, ladies and gentlemen, here we are at the end of the semester.

Since I’m graduating, I’m supposed to leave you with words of advice or some sappy list. By now, you should know I wouldn’t do that. What I’m going to do is tell you about a man on campus.

Since my freshman year, I’ve seen this guy on campus. He’s unremarkable in most ways, decently well dressed, seems smart, funny and nice. But one thing stands out. His eyebrow. He has this mole or something on his eyebrow that makes a section of it round, hairy and large.

Through the wonders of

Thefacebook.com, I’ve found this guy’s name, but I’ll call him George. This is what I think of George and lots of people in the world. We’re all born with defects of some kind. Some of our defects are internal, and some of our defects are external (Kate was born without an arm, and George has a different eyebrow). Some of us handle this well, like Kate telling me stories about the time she tried to go on the monkey bars and failed. I want to think that George is also one of these people. George probably gets up in the morning, takes a shower and looks in the mirror. He says, “George, you are one sexy man. You’ve got style, smarts and that happenin’ eyebrow.” He snaps his fingers, does his hair, and goes out the door thinking about what hot chick he’s going to snag today.

And really, that eyebrow isn’t a defect. He could have shaved it or removed it, something could have gotten rid of this seeming monstrosity, but instead he said, “We’re gonna keep this eyebrow because it makes me different, and I’m not going to waste my four to six years in college worrying about it.” He walks around campus like any of us, getting to class five minutes late. And he knows people look at his eyebrow, I’m sure some child has screamed that he was a monster. But he probably laughed and told the kid that it was the key to his hairy eyebrow superpowers.

I wish I had spoken to George at least once in my college career. He’s accepted his defect, if he even considers it that, and I’m sure he’s gotta be good at partying. I’ve hung out with all these Indian guys for a couple of years, and I still believe they are the craziest partiers. Because they made the most of college, thousands of miles away from their families, I rarely saw them homesick, but I did see them literally party until 8 in the morning.

And that’s the way it is. These people, they are the ones who have made college worth it. They weren’t concerned with making sure every single assignment was perfect. They studied when they needed to, but they knew what this time was made for. Finding new people, accepting yourself and having fun before the real world ensnares you.

That’s my story. It’s been good, and before I get too sappy — I promised my adviser I wouldn’t — I’d like to thank everybody — even the ex-roommates who don’t talk to me anymore and the ex-boyfriend who stole all my money — for making the last three and a half years full of laughter, tears and joy.