A Goose Graduated

When I first decided that my next post was going to be about Goose's graduation, a Travis Tritt song popped into my head. For the life of me, I can't remember what that song was now. However, seeing as how it was Travis Tritt, trust that it was an awesome one. Which leads me to think about the time that E, my bff of 20+ years, lost her s$*t because I was driving her crazy listening to Travis Tritt to and from work every day. Evidence below. But, I digress.

For the record, E is not flipping the bird. I managed to chop off her peace sign. I win.

Are you giving up already? Certainly not after those pictures. (Side question: Do they have the same haircut? Hard to say.) Don't worry, I'm getting there.

So, Goose moved to Houston. Then we got married. Then we went on an amazing honeymoon. Then we started our life. But, before all of that, an important event went almost unnoticed in my electronic thumbprint: A Goose Graduated. And this is that story.

About 2.5 years ago, Goose and I were at a crossroads. We decided we should either start planning life together (or at least generally in the same northwards direction), or we hit the high seas alone. Well, you know how that one turned out. Once we decided we were in it for the long, long, long, very long haul, we then shifted gears towards devising a plan that would return Goose to the U.S. of A. from his current station in Panama. I know, life is hard for geese. Wheels turning, wheels turning, wheels turning - aha! Let's send Goose to school.

I lie. That's pretty much not how it happened. Well, the first sentence is true. The second one too. And the third, perhaps even the fourth. The truth is, Goose knew all along that he wanted to go back to school to get his MBA. He waited it out, devising his triumphant return, because most MBA programs require a certain few years of experience before they'll let you come share your wisdom gained by same said few years of experience. We knew from the beginning that we would still be apart for those few years, seeing that Houston is low on the list of cities with a stellar MBA program (except, as crazy bff of 20+ years reminded me, Rice. Zoinks.). So, in August of 2010, Goose packed it up, loaded his stuff on a shipping container that may or may not ever make it to the States, and moved to Charlottesville, Virginia. (For those of you who were visualizing Goose manually lifting those boxes, let me help you. That didn't happen.)

Let me pause a bit to reflect on Charlottesville. This town, where The University of Virginia was built by Thomas Jefferson in 1817, is A-MA-ZING. Seriously, amazing. It's like the towns you read about in your picture books when you're a kid. (Forget the irony, please.) It is straight-up hometown America served on a spoon. Which, for a Mexican goose, well there's irony in that too. I know that Charlottesville and its surroundings (vineyards galore, horse tracks, Monticello, Montpelier, etc. etc. etc. Did I mention vineyards?) will make up a huge part of Goose's memories as time goes on. There, that's Charlottesville in a nutshell. Go visit, like yesterday.

Beyond Charlottesville and its charming Jefferson charm (double-use-of-word-in-same-sentence-please-ignore), more than anything, Goose came back to me with a dynamite group of Darden friends. I referred to them like that once to my attorney friends, and they were like, "Is that a secret society?" Which raises an interesting point: Have I married a man that people automatically associate with secret societies? Obviously. He has three last names, case closed.

Anyways, back to the friends, which I know is what Goose would want this post to be about more than anything. There's a group of about 25 men, who, like lost souls without lights in the night, found each other, held hands, and BAM!, created a pretty blinding, alcohol-smelling, intense fire pit. I have no idea what any of that means, but you get my point, yes? These 25 dudes (with a few female friends - but as many of you know, grad schools tend to be lean on that account) truly became the Goose's life over the past two years. So much so that I'm pretty sure two months out, he's still going through Darden-friend withdrawal. It isn't a pretty sight.

And I must say, these burly men are quite astonishing. Each of them is successful in their own right - these guys are the ones who will take over the world. (Spit over your right shoulder and turn three times.) Although I only met each of them a few times, they embraced me as if I had been along for the entire ride. They're kind, funny, charming, handsome, can drink you under the table and outwit you in the morning. They took care of my Goose - what more can you ask for?

Goose wants me to mention that not all of his friends are here. He's sensitive like that.

The graduation story would be incomplete without a quick rundown of the actual day. There's a "tradition" that graduates begin their day at campus bars. At 7am. I can bet you can guess where I was at 7am. Not at the campus bar. But Goose & Co., that's another story. I also decided to skip out on the undergrad graduation because, well, obviously. Instead, I ate some of my last pre-wedding french fries with two new but stellar friends (let's call them C&E). Side note: I almost missed one of our connecting honeymoon flights because I was stuffing my face with french fries. What can I say? I was deprived. Second side note: If I had a dollar for every time Pablo told me about a Darden "tradition," I'd have $3252320350 and two years of my life back.

Back to graduation day. Graduate graduation - showed up for that one. He graduated, without his cap. Sound familiar?

Graduation ended. Party over? Ha. Have you learned nothing? Don't worry, when I left to catch my flight on Monday morning at 5:30am, Goose & Co. were still going strong. Almost 24 celebratory hours later. "Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down. Down into my belly. Mm-Mm-Mm." That probably sums it up nicely if you multiplied it by eight.

And, because I know E would die if her very first appearance on the blog was just thug nation, here she is in the real world. She's legit. And yes, she does smile that much. And no, she doesn't have Travis Tritt's haircut. Anymore.

So, a Goose graduated. And he's in pursuit of the glitter. Or napping in his pajamas on the couch today, whatever.