Hi Cordelia,
Three years at Queen’s down, one to go, and I have so much to fill you in on.
For starters, most people call you Cordy now. And, before you ask, you’re still big on Dolly Parton, grew to love Kingston, took up hot yoga, still can’t cook, and finally saw Mt. Joy in concert.
As we head into our fourth and final year, I have so many stories and pointers to share in the spirit of navigating new friendships, exploring ever-changing family dynamics, discovering the ups and downs of dating in early adulthood, balancing coursework, and job-hunting.
Let’s review, Dolly Alderton style.
Friendship
Good news, first-year Cordelia, you only need to wait two and a half days to meet your future best friend. You’ll walk to Richardson Stadium together during orientation weekend because you’ll both sleep through your alarms. You’ll then bump into her again in a mutual friend’s Victoria Hall dorm room, think she’s kind of weird, and spend the next year and a half engaging only in small talk. A reconnection at an Alzheimer’s-themed trivia night will lead to an epic evening belting karaoke, and a walk home where you’ll laugh so hard your ribs hurt.
You now share all of your secrets—and every other thought you’ve ever had—and realize she’s one of the brightest things to come out of your experience at Queen’s. It takes time, but it is so worth it.
Allie is kind, considerate, so ridiculously intelligent, inspiring, and a dope person to have in your corner. Spoiler alert, you also reconnect with a friend from summer camp and spend the next three years living under the same roof.
Layla is comionate, smart, your primary source of hysterical humour, your go-to for rational advice, thoughtful, and in bed by 11 every night. She has taught us so much about letting go, harbouring peace, and cooking tofu. I’m confident, now more than ever, that you’ll soon fulfill your 15-year-old-selves’ dream-day of getting two for $15 piercings at a parlour called “Wizards” before camping out at an EDM festival in Montreal.
Family
Quarantining under one roof with your parents and siblings didn’t exactly do wonders for those relationships; it made you all moody and far too sensitive. Moving away now will make visits home all that more special and having a closet 272 kilometres away from your sister’s eliminates a number of clothes “borrowing”- related tussles. The distance unfortunately means you’ll have to kiss your favourite top of hers goodbye, but you can’t win them all.
Be warned, things change. In first year, you lose a family member. It sucks. In the summer before third and fourth year, your immediate family grows. Being far from home while things continue to change is tough, but unconventional love doesn’t recognize distance— holiday catch-ups are always loaded, and FaceTime is a truly phenomenal invention.
Your homesick tears will water the seeds of your dreams. I promise they aren’t mad at you for leaving.
Dating
ittedly, I don’t have much wise advice to bestow here, because I’m just as far from success in this domain as you are. I can, however, say for certain the next three years of your life are full of ups and downs that teach you so much about your relationships with yourself and others.
You fall in love, and then fall back out. As special as that relationship is, and as much as it’ll sting when it ends, it is for the best. Great news though, I can confirm you’re capable of love and know you’ll find it again.
This part’s important, so pay close attention: do not, I repeat, do not, let your partner sully decisions you’re contemplating. If you want to go on exchange, go. If you’re feeling an impending career change, explore that. If you’re looking at grad schools far from home, apply. You are the person you spend the most amount of time with, and it would be a shame to let your partner steer you away from things that matter simply because they’re your partner.
You value good conversation, someone who likes cheese as much as you do, kindness, and a partner as fascinated by seeing the world as you are. It’s unfortunate you’ll have to have your heart broken to realize this, but I’m sure they’ll come in handy again, nonetheless.
Going Out
Here’s a piece of unsolicited advice you’re undoubtedly too naïve to appreciate: I promise you’ll have more fun at a puzzle-assembling wine night with friends than you will waiting in the Stages line without a jacket in January.
That’s not intended in any way to dissuade you from going out, fourth-year you loves sucking on lollipops from the corner store at Barrie St. and Earl St. while waiting in line, dancing like a lunatic, and stopping at Pizza Studio for extra cheese and pesto mayo on the way home.
Going out also serves a lovely reminder to renew your driver’s license on time. Check up on that—going to Dollar Beers on a Saturday night with your port hanging out of your back pocket isn’t as cool as you think it is.
Classes
This’ll be brief. Your minor selection won’t be a mistake, take classes that make you excited to show up on Friday mornings at 8:30 a.m., and please read Rate My Professor reviews before solidifying your SOLUS shopping cart.
Fourth-year me also thanks first-, second-, and third-year you for taking summer classes when the opportunity presented itself. Getting fun and departmentally assorted electives out of the way before the school year started is the only reason I currently take two classes a semester alongside my full-time job.
Jobs
You heard that right, we have a job! We have health and dental benefits, a pension plan, incomprehensibly intelligent coworkers, and the fact that we’d do it for free if they asked us to is a delightful bonus.
From stepping foot in your dorm room in 2021 to kicking off fourth year in 2024, you’ll work as a lifeguard, bartender, scientific study participant, barista, research assistant, summer camp counselor, healthcare aide, and intern.
You’ll have bad bosses, coworkers that became great friends (and significant others, but I really don’t recommend it), rude customers, mind-boggling assignments, a number of awesome corporate outfits, good days, and obviously some bad ones sprinkled in here and there. The people skills you’ll refine as a bartender will come in handy in istrative meetings and your experiences at the health clinic will make you so much more equipped to handle corporate crises that pop up unexpectedly at work.
***
Cordelia, you’re so lucky. Lucky to be young and alive and lucky to have a home to come back to, even when it changes (and especially when it does). You’re lucky to learn, lucky to love, and lucky to be. Things aren’t always light and breezy, but you’re lucky to live the days you do. You are loving, loved, kind, brilliant, capable, and have an iron-clad network of friends and family who would move mountains to see you smile. Four years fly by and, on the dawn of beginning the last one, I’m already nostalgic for something that has yet to be over.
Soak it all up and enjoy it while it lasts. Also, you seriously don’t have to be so stingy with your TAMs.
I love you now, forever, and always.
Cordy
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