In the spirit of being a senior freshly into the much-vaunted last term before graduation, recently I have taken to eating and sleeping and doing as I have never done before. Having submitted my last college application.  Jan. 2, my world has taken a change for the better in all departments. Less so the eating, perhaps, but certainly my sleep schedule and afternoon extracurriculars have taken a turn—instead of going home to grind away at the mountains of homework I had once found so interminable, I now find enough spring in my step to add afternoon hiking with college friends, who are just back in town for the season, to my agenda. 

This is, perhaps, a final fruition of all the times I promised myself I would be able to loosen up and take a break post-college-application season. It might also be the fact that my parents are finally more amenable to letting me out of the house at all odd hours of the day. I no longer feel guilt at enjoying my seemingly unproductive time! Who knew the solution to revenge bedtime procrastination was an REA acceptance to Princeton?

Regardless of the roots of my newfound zest for life, however, my recent freedom has also been an opportunity for me to explore the parts of San Diego that I hadn’t before had time to venture through. One gem was the Thursday Market in North Park, a street lined with stands of small businesses and artisanal food products.

Despite its relatively small size, Thursday Market was a wonderful experience.  If you’ve ever longed to make memories of yourself stooping over cheese displays, trying to figure out the difference between homemade brie and pepperjack, or if you’ve ever wanted to admire forty-dollar bouquets from arms distance, as I have, your dreams are about to be fulfilled. Armed with a jacket and a partner in crime in the form of one my favorite Westview alumni, I found myself braving the cold weather and overcast skies for the beauties of a one-block experience, which was only enhanced when we stumbled across another pair of students who had once graced this school’s front gates. Standing in the street as we made small talk, I found myself aglow with the warmth of old connections.

Beyond human capital, the material wealth of the farmer’s market stands were a sight to see. Not only were there a plethora of fruits and vegetables on offer, there were also vendors selling fresh-baked goods, jams, sauces and pickles, as well as handmade jewelry and crafts. I was particularly taken with one array of hot sauces and another of ten-dollar beef jerky.

The homegrown element of the market was especially charming. Though the strawberries set aside by one booth weren’t the sweetest, they were precious for what they meant as a contribution to sustainable farming practices, and local business. And though they were marginally more expensive than the prices I would’ve found at Vons, the experience was well worth it, in my opinion at least. I found myself reveling in the beauty of the market and the community it brought together—and those were things I never could have found at a big chain grocery store.