"I'm standing on a hill in a mountain of dreams, telling myself it's not as hard as it seems."

-- Led Zeppelin, "Going to California"

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew exactly what I wanted.

It was simple, really. I wanted to be rich and famous.

When I played with my Barbies, I wanted to be like them. I wanted to have the three- story mansion. I wanted to have the expensive car (minus the bubble-gum pink color). I wanted the flashy clothes.

Basically, I wanted the image: to be thin, rich and urbane.

Looks like I chose the wrong profession.

While I'm not a case for emergency liposuction, I also have precious little time to work out.

I'm also not a fashion crisis, but you won't find me wearing labels found on Rodeo Drive.

And it's really hard to be cosmopolitan when I've spent much of my four years at Penn State in the basement office of the Daily Collegian, working on a sports staff of mostly men and laughing right along with some very un-P.C. jokes.

But I wouldn't have it any other way. The path I chose for my four years at Penn State has led me to some wonderful people and places.

Even though my first few years' salary will hover slightly above the poverty line, I still want to be a sports journalist more than ever.

I will do it for the love I have for newspapers and the deeper love I have for sports. Sports truly are representative of life: They have excitement, they have boredom, and above all, they have emotion. When a team is down just a few points in the waning seconds of a game, human character shines through truer than almost any other time.

Like it or not, sports coverage is important and something I will defend forever. Plus, why do you think most people read newspapers?

I still fully intend to be famous and fulfill my dream of covering basketball or football for a major market newspaper. The money will just have to wait. And that's OK, because I have reevaluated its place in my life since those days in my bedroom playing with Barbies.

It's easy to see where my attitude adjustment came from: My parents. They have shown me that money is not essential to happiness. I always had plenty of everything but I was definitely not spoiled.

They made sacrifices. They sacrificed material things so that my two younger sisters and I could go to college. They made sacrifices so that we could be successful.

My mom and dad also taught me to be strong, to be fair and to treat others the way I want to be treated. I have tried (and failed a few times) to apply that in my dealings -- especially at the Collegian.

Despite the frustration, fatigue and stress that have come from writing and editing, it has been fun.

I also wouldn't trade my experiences with the sports staff. Without question, I have worked with some of the most talented, fascinating and fun people on this campus.

Sports is the best staff at this paper and I hope the staff I am leaving will always be proud in what it does. I know all the staff members will make me proud.

But college was not all about journalism and sports and I would be foolish to forget that.

It was about strengthening relationships with family.

I have come to know my two little (only in years) better and we are very closer than "The Gilmore Girls." And I have come to love and better appreciate my grandparents and my biological father; I am forever indebted to them for their love and generosity.

It was about having "other" friends.

My friends outside the Collegian have kept me sane. I live with the five most beautiful girls at Penn State (this is not debatable) and would not have traded it for even the classiest Park Avenue apartment. No one gives better advice on guys or makes me laugh harder.

And college, above all, was about realizing that I'm already in the real world.

It's some mythical place that starts the day I'm handed my diploma. It's what happens every day: The happiness, the frustration, the anger and the disappointment. And learning to deal with all of it is what will eventually make me my own version of Barbie.

I will be successful, I will be happy and with a little luck, I will be wealthy. I'll just never be blonde and stick-thin.