Peace out, Miami

As May draws upon us, my time at the University of Miami draws to a close. It’s been four years to remember. Well, actually it’s been two and a half years, or rather, a little less than that: January 2005 to May 2007. You do the math. I’d defiantly recommend going to a college for the full four years. When you show up at a place mid-year, not as a freshman, it kinda throws everything off.

When I first showed up at Miami I had no idea what to expect. I’d only been to Miami once, and never farther south than South Beach. I had no idea what the campus looked like aside from a few pictures, or what kind of scene I would find there.

I remember my first night in Miami. I stayed at the Holiday Inn across the street. The restaurant was closed at the time, undergoing a multi million-dollar renovation. Two years later, I would live at that same Holiday Inn for over three months, and every day, the restaurant would be near empty. Clearly, this renovation was money well spent. From there, it was on to my life at the U.

From my first frat boy douche roommate, to my second roommate who made a habit of falling asleep during his late night drunken showers, to my current roommates who never talk to me, except to tell me to turn down the TV, Miami has been a time I will not soon forget. When leaving a place you can’t help but think of all the things you wanted to do but were never able to: Go to a Miami Heat game, spend time in the Keys, take a bunch of drugs and fall asleep on the beach, waking up the next morning not quite sure what exactly happened.

You always hear stories about all the wild times in college; it builds huge expectations of what to expect. When these types of nights don’t take place, or rarely ever do, it makes you wonder if all the stories you hear are greatly exaggerated, or embellished, if not all together fabricated? Or has your college experience just been a little bit lamer than everyone else’s? When you spend a weekend night sitting at home doing nothing, or wandering around a party by yourself, you can’t help but wonder; is everyone else going through this? Or is it just me?

There are the moments I will never be able to forget, some better than others. After a week here, hearing my roommate say on the phone he was taking his two normal roommates to the party that night, spending the whole night wandering around campus wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

The next year, calling my mom at 1:30am during Katrina to tell her I was drunk, my roommate knocking on a girl’s door at 3 a.m. to tell her he was wearing a Nemo head.

We’ve all told some one we go to school at the University of Miami, only to be asked: The one in Ohio or Florida? Most of us have probably lost count.

From beginning to end, I hardly knew you Miami, but it was great knowing you.

Olin Meyers is a senior majoring in motion pictures. He may be contacted at