My journey to and through The Bona Venture can best be described as “A Series of Unfortunate Events.” It seems fitting that this work includes a narrative about the truth in fiction that news can never quite convey.
So here’s some truth: I spent two years insisting The BV was a cult I would never buy into and a third year insisting the BV was a cult that I was busy reforming every Wednesday night, but ultimately, I have to admit: the BV also spent Wednesday nights reforming me.
We had our ups and downs—like every college relationship—and our parting may be bittersweet, but we’re both secure in the knowledge that we’ll be better for our future commitments because of the time we spent together.
As even the most unfortunate of stories must come to an end, I have some very important goodbyes to get out of the way:
Goodbye news section keyboard that inexplicably smells like fried chicken.
Goodbye moldy, wood-paneled mini-fridge that someone stuffed a paper-mache Lumiere into.
Goodbye bright orange outlets that only work 46 percent of the time.
Goodbye opinions section computer I pranked weekly.
Goodbye filth-encrusted coffee pot with a cynical smiley face sharpied on the back.
Goodbye paper cutter that somehow only bends all of my pages but will chop off my finger without hesitation.
Goodbye chair that is somehow 95 degrees on the seat back and -45 degrees on the arms.
Goodbye printer that prints news pages slower than I could draw them out myself.
Goodbye dangerous pike we use to open the basement windows when I need to cool off my rage.
Goodbye stacks of sad, unopened, unread BVs.
Goodbye 2008, 2009, 2011, 2015, 2016 and 2017 AP stylebooks, with special recognition to The BV stylebook minted in 2005 that taught me the path from Doyle to Gardens is to be officially referred to as the “Ho Chi Minh Trail.”
Goodbye late nights, early mornings, good friends, bad parking tickets, fast food, slow writers and everything else that stressed me out and made me laugh.
Finally, to my fellow and future BV graduates, I refuse to say goodbye—just “see you later”—because if the devil’s in the details, I’ll see you all in Hell.
