In my three years writing for this paper, I’ve had some good times. Made some friends. Had some laughs. Scratched a lil’ creative itch. There are a lot of things to remember fondly. So you might ask — given the chance, would I do it all again? And the answer to that, dear reader, is no. No. 1,000 times, no. I would give it all up — the laughs, the memories, the friendships — to have never come across the one they call Joseph Clemente.
I love this paper with all my heart. I’ve worked hard to uphold the standards set by previous editors, and I’m proud of the role I’ve played as a small part of its 20 — I mean 128 — year history. But if it meant never meeting that sonofa Joseph, I’d just as soon let it all burn down.
Sure, our socials and pitch meetings make up some of my most beloved memories of Ann Arbor, yet, even after all these romanticized moments are accounted for, I wouldn’t do any of it again. Not even for a second if it meant Joseph walking into my life.
I’ve almost reached the end of my word count, so, to all the readers and writers who have come before and after me at this paper, I’ll miss and cherish our time together. Just not as much as I’ll miss and cherish the period of my life prior to meeting Joshpeh.
