ALEXIS PRICE | email@example.com | Opinion Columnist
I am not typically one for apologies, but I felt that in the circumstances of the season, I would try my hand at it. There are some things I want to address, because, frankly, my first semester here at Butler is just what I imagined, yet nothing at all what I expected.
Here goes nothing.
I would like to apologize for assuming that most—if not all—Butler students were rich and pretentious.
Rather, I have met individuals with similar backgrounds, similar stories, and some stories I would never expect from the stereotypical private university student. Stories of sisters lost to cancer, stories of the loss of both parents shortly before high school graduation and stories of taking out half the cost of tuition in loans this semester.
I am sorry for my preconceived notions. I was terribly wrong.
As Butler is a private school in the heart of Indiana, the population is largely made up of Republican, conservative Christians. I apologize for inferring that I would be judged for my views, for not being in this category, when, in fact, I can openly talk about my views and they are often listened to with respect.
This is a public apology to all of my friends, and especially my roommate, for any time stress got the best of me.
In high school, I could retreat to my very own room and shut off my phone when I was overwhelmed or frustrated. College is different. I am sorry for any time these frustrations made their way into our conversations.
Also, I am sorry for any time my study habits were, for lack of a better term, annoying. I really enjoy talking to myself while I work. Sorry, roomie.
I apologize—on behalf of my roommate and I—to those in the rooms around us, for any time we have blasted tunes from The Sound of Music or Michael Bublé’s Christmas album obnoxiously singing along. I have come to realize that the power of a shared love for something can create a harmonious act.
And for anyone who has been in the shower while I was in a bathroom stall, I deeply apologize for every time I have flushed a toilet. I thought people were exaggerating the whole scalding hot water thing. I was proven wrong once again.
Actually, no, I am not sorry. I will not apologize for the scare battles we are constantly having—you coming out of nowhere, me not noticing and nearly walking right into you, startling the both of us. This is solely your fault, honestly.
However, I am at fault for my total lack of coordination. I apologize to the dining hall staff for any time I made a clumsy mess, spilling my coffee or accidentally over-pouring my cereal, or for any time I accidentally threw away a fork. But, hey, on the bright side, it is one less item to wash, right?
I want to apologize to anyone who has dealt with me in the Starbucks line before I have had my over-complicated coffee. I am sorry for any death glares or empty responses.
Also, I want to thank all the Starbucks baristas for their clever puns in the morning. While I may deny it in my conquest for caffeine, these jokes often make my day. I apologize, for my facial expressions may say otherwise.
Above all, I want to apologize to Butler for ever considering another university. Because, despite the fact that I will certainly be in debt for the rest of my life—despite leaky faucets, stink bug infestations, waking up in hot sweats for the first two months here, flooding basements, mysterious gas leaks and impish squirrels—I could not imagine being in love with anywhere else.