I hate goodbyes…

Dearest Readers,

I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that my parents are no longer financially responsible for me (wait, how is that good?). The bad news is that my four years at this fine institution are up (not for a lack of trying, though).

I am graduating and moving on and I think you should, too. I’m not going to pretend that this will be easy for you, but you have to believe that together (with the help of Dr. Kübler-Ross’ “5 Stages of Grief”), we can get through these most trying of times.

I’m sure the news hasn’t really hit you yet, and at this point you’re still in the first stage of grief: denial. You have to understand this is just part of the grieving process, and it’s perfectly natural to feel that you’re going to be just fine without my much anticipated (and witty and illuminating) weekly column. It’s completely normal, and I don’t think you should seek professional help unless this particular stage of grief persists for more than two weeks (kind of like a sore throat or weird rashes). The next stage, anger, should show signs very shortly.

It may not be entirely related to my column, but you are probably going to be angry about something. Maybe someone keeps tagging really bad pictures of you on Facebook or your professor won’t cash the check you wrote him for the “final” or your boyfriend thinks I’m hot, whatever. You’re going to be angry for a spell and then, according to Kübler-Ross, you will transition to the stage she calls “bargaining.”

Now, I’m not exactly sure what this really entails, but I imagine it means that you might attempt to sell the archives you have kept of my column on eBay. I should advise against this because while this guarantees that I will be out of your house, it does not ensure that I am out of your heart, which brings me to the next stage of grief: depression.

I must warn you that this stage of grief can be the most devastating and, if left unchecked, could result in any combination of the following: dry mouth, tremors, nausea, insomnia, decreased sex drive (but those are just the side-effects from the anti-depressant you will be taking). Hopefully, with the help of a medical professional (or online access to my column), you will finally be able to accept the fact that my face will no longer be found smirking at you every Thursday from its home in the Arts Section. But you’re a long way from acceptance, believe me. (You’re still in denial, remember?)

This year has been great, and you have been the best readers a girl could hope for. This is why I’ve decided to keep you around. Just because I won’t be here next year doesn’t mean that my pop culture commentary is going anywhere, which is why I have decided to keep a blog. Consider it my gift to you. Goodbye, friends!

Allison Baker is graduating, moving to London and will tell you all about life after college at www.allisonbaker.wordpress.com. She will also be appearing in two one-act plays this weekend: “Drugs are Bad” Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 6 p.m., and “Funeral Parlor” Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 4 p.m. The one-act plays will be performed in Building 45, Room 212.