It’s the end of another year and, more importantly, my career as an undergrad. It’s the end of another year and, more importantly, my career as an undergrad. Because I like nostalgia with a good ol’ side of cheese, I wanted to put down in words a few things I’ve learned over the past three years here. (Elton John, anyone?) Of course I’ve learned a lot in class, but this here column is supposed to be a break from my regular schoolwork.

Here’s the first thing I’d like to share: people go away, social networks shift and realign. Sometimes people study abroad, or tastes change, friendships drift apart. I’m one of those students who never left Pittsburgh — I’ve been here so long, in fact, I’m starting to feel like the city and I rely on each other for our mutual welfare — so I had to adapt when friends left me. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t change staying for anything: It opened my world up in really wonderful ways. I realized that a class friend from sophomore year can become a best friend the following semester.

Forced adaptation makes you stronger.

Another thing about friendship is discovering who stays by your side, or who comes back after time away. It’s often the most important people. It’s particularly amazing to see who makes the cut after freshman year. Some friendships — a few, at least — last long beyond Tower B, but some people you’ll never talk to again, when you’re no longer sharing communal showers on the 15th floor. Bathrooms have a weird way of bringing people together, but it doesn’t necessarily last past move-out.

In addition, the city can become a person. Maybe more than one person. It’s hard to explain exactly what I mean. If you’ve stayed here long enough, though, I might not need to explain: You go enough places with enough people, and you see them on every street corner. It can make it hard to leave. In certain instances, it also makes it hard to stay. In fact, I might add that a relationship with a city can be as tumultuous as a relationship with a person. I never think I’ll forgive Pittsburgh for winter, but I usually come around and forget how bad it treated me.

Along the lines of academia and such: Career fairs are a waste of time, and I’m sorry if that makes anybody mad at me. (I’m not really sorry. This is my last column.) I’m told that stuff is “good practice,” for future interviews and such, but do I really need to “practice” putting on pantyhose and passing out my resumé? I don’t think so.

But on that train of thought — a resumé is a good idea, so have one. You’ve probably realized that already.

Another good idea: Talk to your professors. Talk for the right reasons — not because you’re trying to impress anybody, but because you really want to learn, you really like the class or you’re really confused. At such a big school, it’s nice to have a real adult to talk to. Plus, professors are funny and quirky and sometimes awkward, just like you. Don’t wait to do it either — I shouldn’t have.

You can only spend so much time on Facebook before it becomes depressing. And if you’re not depressed, you should be. Shame on you. Go outside. I feel like your mother, but there were times I needed someone to tell me this.

And for that matter: Looking up so-and-so’s new girlfriend won’t make you feel prettier, or smarter or increase your self-worth. The Internet has devious ways of letting you open up your own old wounds.

Leave it alone. Go outside. Or watch a lot of movies, read a lot of books, listen to music. Go to the museum or a hockey game. Don’t be boring. For goodness sakes, the most boring people I know are boring because all they do is study and watch their Facebook newsfeeds.

But be warned: Listening to cool bands won’t make you cool, just like laughing at a funny movie doesn’t make you funny. Everything you do should be done for the right reasons — out of passion or curiosity, even boredom. Don’t do it to impress anybody; eventually, everything gets discovered.

I have two final thoughts coming off the top of my head, and I’m going to use them to wrap this thing up. The first one is from “Rocko’s Modern Life”: Laundry day is a very dangerous day. Plan ahead.

Finally — I’ll say this quickly, because I don’t want a lot of fanfare: It’s really not a big deal. That exam you failed, that roommate issue, that lady who hosed you when you were walking down the street. No matter how much it matters now, it won’t in a week or so. I’m sorry to end on a cliché, but I want everyone to know: It will be OK.

Have a wonderful summer, and I hope these last few days are good ones.

Write to Caitlyn at [email protected].