Having always had to endure the perfunctory questions aimed at "old-for-their-graders" such as "Did you get held back?" I've long gotten used to supplying a quick, indignant response: "Two years of kindergarten, buddy." Though I still got sideways glances, particularly from 17-year-old freshmen, I made up for it by driving earlier, turning 18 earlier, and constantly lording my age over my group of friends.

Faced with my 21^st birthday, however, I've come across a whole new set of challenges associated with my age.

To begin with, I'll be turning at home -- hundreds of miles from the heavenly bar tours of Happy Valley. And while I love Philadelphia, cabs are expensive and you can't match a college town for your 21^st.

Also, none of my good friends (or any at home for that matter) is 21. This presents a rather obvious dilemma. Who will I go out with when no one else can legally get into a bar?

All this aside, however, the thing that makes my awkward oldness worthwhile is something that, until coming to Penn State, I could never appreciate.

While I'll still only be here for four years, thank goodness I won't be leaving at 21 or 22. Some may say they'll be ready to enter the real world twice over at the ripe age of 23; for me, I feel like I could stay here forever.

I'm no math major, but the ratio of time spent in college versus time in the great rat race is hardly proportional. There're still so many parties to attend, all-nighters to pull, friends to make and experiences to savor. I have yet to even taste senioritis, but something tells me when I finally don my cap and gown, I'll still be left wanting more.

There's something about sophomore year that tells you college is about a lot more than late-night pizza and decorating your dorm.

Suddenly, I was a full-blown staff member at the Collegian with a hefty course load to boot. Sure, this hardly hurt my social life, but somewhere along the way I lost some of the awe I had as a freshman.

I had to make myself stop and appreciate the snow on Old Main as I rushed to my 9:45 a.m. class. I went days without seeing my roommate. I wouldn't trade my sense of purpose for anything, but this year's leisurely Blue-White game reminded me more than anything of what it felt like to be a carefree college student, screaming my lungs out in the third row at the 2005 Ohio State game. That, like every moment of my college experience, is one that I can remember, but never repeat.

I think there's more than one reason this year's Thon promotional video, "Don't Waste a Minute," brought tears to my eyes. Thon is inspirational enough, but the presentation carried an overarching message that truly hit home. It's the urgency of our state as college students -- every new freshman class reminds us we're not getting any younger.

And every minute we spend waiting for summer, waiting for the weekend, waiting for warmer weather, is a minute wasted. And though I may be closing in on 21 already, I for one want to savor every one of those minutes from now on.