I write this article to you (cutting it rather close to my deadline) from the comfort of my humble apartment, lost in the depths of my favorite fuzzy blanket. I have not moved from this spot for hours. You may be wondering, "Why?" If you know me well, you may also ask how this occurrence is any different from my usual behavior. It is quite different, as I have just returned from the depths of the Smokey Mountains. Yes. Two weekends ago, your favorite sorority grandmother took a leap of faith and stepped far out of her comfort zone and into a fraternity formal.

So few have ever dared to journey so far from the metropolitan jungle of Columbus, but for the sake of my fellow peers, I did. I was a stranger amongst Miami Redhawks and those brothers who call themselves Delta Sigma Phi's, stepping into cabins where I knew only two people. Why, I asked myself, did I agree to this? With only five days standing between me and my finals, I initially wanted to kick myself for agreeing to go. Or at least a part of me did. As time progressed, I realized just a few things about myself, college, “frat bros," and friendship that I think we could all remember from time to time.

First, WE ARE ALL TOO HARD ON OURSELVES. I am young, especially for my own class, but is 22 even that old? Why is there a constant need to believe that every moment of the day has to be dedicated to “the future," that depends on one piece of paper? Life is supposed to be lived. Life is supposed to be fun. No one remembers the nights when they wrote 20-page papers with no sleep, as least not positively. For three nights, I let myself just be. I haven't taken a breath of air -- and mountain air at that -- in far too long. It was as if every worry fell away, exposing the person that I had become, amidst the stressors of my life. And this person was dying to get out.

Second, I AM NOT THE PERSON THAT I WAS YESTERDAY. I attended this formal with someone who I believed to be one of my very good friends. I have known him for four years and, for some unknown reason, he has stuck around for the best and worst times that he could have. I have depended upon him, yet as this progressed, I was amazed to see how similar and how different each of us were. I had grown out of touch with so many parts of his life, and he mine. It was a weekend to catch up, to see how much the other had changed. It seemed as though the change should have driven a wedge between us, but oddly it did the opposite. Change does not have to be a bad thing. I tell myself a bit too often that change is the heathen that does not need to enter my life at any point in time, but what really is so bad about it? Without change, we would not grow. I would still be the moody 16-year-old pining after Dashboard Confessional's lead singer if it were not for this friend entering my life. I would be the same 19-year-old pining after silly boys-gone-by if it were not for my friend. Because of my long span of driving for hours, I am a bit sleep-deprived, but I am not the same person after leaving this trip. I saw true friendship, both in one particular friend, and in his brothers.

Third, FRAT BROS ARE PRETTY COOL. It took a lot of courage, patience, and hairspray to prepare for this formal. Honestly, there were moments on the drive down when I was considering commandeering my friend's vehicle and hitting the road. I am so glad that I didn't. I would not only be one friend down and one hilarious story out, but I would be many friends less. The amount of people that immediately welcomed me into the Delta Sig lifestyle, consisting of copious amounts of pancakes and encounters with black bears, was staggering. The amount of times that I was invited back to visit Oxford could quite possibly fill one of those visitor attendance books that are placed out at wedding receptions. There is no doubt in my mind that I will go back -- not only to see one of my best (up-to-date) friends, but to see all of them.

So if you are reading this article, if you've stuck around until the end of it, or if you only read the last lines of articles for some unknown reason, whatever it is, it's a little too late to try and persuade me that Greek Life isn't for me. I'm sold.