As the semester winds down and I realize it’s nearly time to move into the real world, you can frequently see me with a dazed look on my face.I don’t know yet what I’ll be doing after college. I have some job prospects, and I’m getting married. But when all is said and done, the future is a huge blank, a huge question mark.

For the first time in 17 years, I’ll be out of school. For good.

I will never forget TCU. When I came here, I was a very different person. I think that is why my mother was hesitant to send me to a school that didn’t require chapel or have a curfew or a dress code. And maybe she was right.

My whole belief system has changed. I look different; I dress different. I am marrying a guy I didn’t give the time of day to when we met in high school.

And yet I’m sure that’s not a bad thing. That is part of what college is about – growing, changing, becoming. I will never forget the experiences I had here, the friends I’ve made and the professors who have influenced me.

When I think back on my college years, the things I remember most are the little things – all of the idiosyncrasies and memories that makes TCU the place it is here, now, today, in my mind. Next year it’ll be a different place, and I’ll be a different person.

So here are some of those little things I can’t forget that made TCU special to me:

The look on my mom’s face when she really understood that I lived in a coed dorm. A (male) friend came into the hallway in a towel and asked, “Do you know anything about the guy sleeping in the lounge?” Her face was priceless.

The TCU flower grant. When I applied here, everyone kept telling me TCU has a beautiful campus. Now I know why – the flowers are changed out practically every two weeks. I will never forget the purple cabbages growing for a season near my dorm or the day of the Schieffer School of Journalism dedication, when garish flowers and trees were planted in the Moudy courtyard and then removed the next day. I have always wondered where the flowers go – do they get thrown away? Maybe they get recycled into our cafeteria food – that would certainly explain a lot.

The night my friends and I put on prom clothes and took pictures dancing in front of Frog Fountain on the spur of the moment.

Watching my professors’ band play. Who knew a handful of profs could be so entertaining?

The ice storm freshman year. I lived in the Greek, and the streets and sidewalks hadn’t been cleared. Pond Street Grill wasn’t even open, so in order to get food, we had to walk up to Frog Bytes. A friend swears I saved her life during the storm by stepping out in front of a car when she slipped. And despite the ice, my then-boyfriend and I walked all the way to Panera on University for food.

And, of course, who could live here without learning what it means to be a Texan. No, most Texans don’t ride horses to school or wear cowboy hats day-in and day-out. But the saying “everything is bigger in Texas” is true – even if it only applies to open fields, egos and vehicles.

These four years have been worth the $35,000 of student loans I’ll have when I’m finished. I think.

These have been four good years.

So as opinion editor, I just want to thank you for the time you’ve spent reading the page, for considering the ideas on it and for participating by writing in. We couldn’t have done it without you.

So to those who are graduating, congratulations. To those who aren’t, make the most of what’s left of your college days.

Opinion editor Stephanie Weaver is an English, philosophy and French major from Westwood, Kan.