I don’t want to write another “end of the semester” column so many find the need to write during this part of the semester.

The words and ideas are redundant: Study hard. Remember when. Have a good summer. Good luck in life.

Nothing new here, and nothing a normal student really wants to hear. To those who are bored, I don’t blame you.

To be honest, I’m a little bored, too. I’m tired of classes. I wish I could be finished with the learning process even though in many ways it is just beginning.

I have worked at the Daily for three and a half years. In this time, I hope I would know the processes and the politics in the office pretty well. I’m still learning.

I’ve been at Iowa State for five years, college specifically for six, and I will have one degree to show for it. Sometimes I still don’t know what I am going to do.

But that’s OK. Gray areas still lend a little color to life.

Enough redundancy. I have a story to tell.

A couple of weeks ago on a Wednesday, a friend of mine, who happens to be Daily photo stud Michael Faas, asked if I had any plans that evening after finishing work at the Daily. I had none, so we got a six pack of beer, settled down in front of his television and watched one of the classic movies of all time, The Muppet Movie.

For those who have never seen this film or haven’t watched it in a while, I encourage you to do so. The film, at least for me and my drinking buddy, helps to put life in a little perspective.

Why? Well, among other fuzzy things, (fuzzy also meaning a few of the muppets) the movie includes love, adventure, change, gaining new friends and leaving behind old ones.

Does this sound familiar? It should. It’s life in a form of entertainment that will remain timeless. My life and search for direction and happiness here at college were summed up in a matter of 90 minutes.

I was doing fine in my little vacuum of home when I was forced to enter the world through a few classes at Iowa State. A frog on a log singing tunes of his time, I left home and began a journey toward what could be the rest of my life.

Along the way, I learned to fend for myself, decide if I should also fend for others and to live for what matters. It wasn’t easy. It was almost as confusing as adolescence. But I survived with close friends, a few photos and memories that will stay with me for a lifetime.

Enough sap, I know, but it seems I’m a frog riding along in an old Studebaker with a bear, pig, chicken and a whatever as friends, toward a destiny that could break my spirit or make me smile. I guess I failed to avoid the “end of the semester” column so many find a need to write this time of year.

All along, I’m asking myself if it is, or was, worth it.

Sure, there will be a few setbacks, a few flat tires and the bad guys to worry about. But there will also be the adventure of doing what I have chosen to do. There will be challenges and failures. New friends and old ones. There will be love.

There are also people who, over time, I have learned to look up to and take advice from. Associate Professor of Music Kirk Smith is such a person. There are also friends, like Jamey Hansen, along the same lines.

There were colleagues and roommates who slapped me around so I could finally see my dreams, my limitations and my potential.

And I have no regrets.

Along a myriad of late evenings when things take on a little different perspective, (night has a way of doing that, doesn’t it?) I escape to my thoughts or lose myself in the reruns on Non-Stop Fox.

But it all comes back to the journey. And I’ve only begun.

This summer, part of my fortune will be found across the sea (I’m going abroad, for what it’s worth) and to begin the journey again. But that’s OK, because someday, either physically or in my dreams, I will come back.

A song sung by Gonzo in The Muppet Movie actually spawned the reason for this column and why I’ve decided to share it with you. His words left me with some of the perspective I need, and it may even have an impact on you. Don’t worry, I won’t sing it for you:

“There’s not a word yet, for old friends who’ve just met.

“Part heaven, part space. Or have I found my place?

“You can just visit, but I plan to stay.

“I’m going to go back there someday.”

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John Mullen is a senior in liberal studies from Waterloo. He is opinion editor of the Daily.