The recent premiere of the much-anticipated Judd Apatow-produced HBO series ‘Girls,’ written by and starring 25-year-old Lena Dunham, came at an opportune time for graduating seniors – particularly for those with aspirations of moving to New York City.

With graduation two weeks away, the postgraduate doubt and insecurities I’ve written off during the past year are becoming a reality.

No more three-day weekends. No more waking up at 4 p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays because my first class isn’t until 5:30 p.m. No more all-nighters in E.S. Bird Library. No more day drinking just because the weather turned nice.

My eyes are slowly beginning to tear up.

Dunham’s character, Hannah, is a 24-year-old college graduate living in New York City with an unpaid internship at a publishing company. In the first episode, she was bombed with news that her parents will no longer financially support her. The next day, Hannah gets fired after explaining to her boss that she can no longer afford to work for free. He smiles, gives her a hug and sends her on her unemployed way.

The remainder of the episode features awkward couch sex, a pregnant British chick, an overbearing best friend, an obnoxious dinner party, dysfunctional relationships – even by college standards – and Hannah getting high off a tea of opium pods before confronting her parents at their hotel in the middle of the night.

With its coincidental debut, the series is unapologetically ushering me into the next chapter. And one of the things I’ve realized I’ll miss most is this little column and the voice it allowed me to have – or at least, the voice I perceived it allowed me to have.

Because no matter where my unemployment may take me in these coming years, it absolutely won’t be anywhere near a weekly opinion piece, especially not one that has allowed me to write about kicking squirrels and Brazilian religion parties. For the record, my columns from sophomore year make me cringe, too. I apologize for them.

This column allowed me to write without having to label myself a ‘blogger’ or another hipster term. And for the past six semesters, I’ve written. I’ve tried to be funny, I’ve tried to be nostalgic and sometimes, I was just plain pissed off. A few columns might have been written after cracked-out all-nighters, but I’m still not even sure what I was trying to say.

If you’ve laughed, you’re welcome. If you’ve anonymously critiqued or commented, thank you. Your comments have made for great anecdotes at parties and other social functions.

To that commenter who once suggested someone begin a ‘Fire Lauren Tousignant’ Facebook page: I’m still waiting, my friend.

At the end of the day, I’ve written for no other reason than to just write, always while carefully combing through my final draft to be sure I didn’t miss an opportunity for an alcohol or a Sadler 4 reference.

On that note, allow me to end my final rant. I hope I’ve made you laugh, I hope I’ve made you think, I hope I’ve made you nostalgic for your freshmen year, but mostly, I know I’ve just pissed most of you off.

With that said, I depart this column, The Daily Orange and my four years at Syracuse University with these final words:

Sorry, I’m not sorry.

Lauren Tousignant is a senior communications and rhetorical studies and writing major. Her column appeared in The Daily Orange weekly. She can be reached after graduation at lauren.tousignant@gmail.com or followed on Twitter at @lauT1.  

Published on April 24, 2012 at 12:00 pm