Graduation: It Happened, Move On

Graduation isn’t the end, it’s the beginning. I’ve heard and contemplated this so many times, that the meaning was lost. By the time it was almost graduation time, that phrase still circled my head, but it never really hit me until afterward.

As noted by my other post regarding senior year, I was already determined not to become too nostalgic or sentimental at the end of the year, and I succeeded. Sure, signing everyone’s yearbook was a little sad, especially for the people I literally had no way of contacting after the year was over, but I got over it. I actually felt sympathy for the couple friends I had that were taking graduation much too seriously. They were almost lamenting over the fact they may not see me again, and even got angry when I wasn’t sad. This was noted in my previous senior post, but it bears repeating since this irritation got a lot worse as the school year came to a close.

Another great thing about graduating is the production of good cake.

Overall, I was immensely excited and really wanted to get out. Although I love my friends and all my classes this year (most of the time), as the day grew closer, I became more antsy, as did everyone else. The hallway discussions of seniors often included the statement, “I just want to get out of here” which may or may not have had some obscenities interjected in there. We were all anxious, we were all in anticipation. Some of us were excited. 

I asked a lot of my friends if they were excited, before and immediately after graduation. Most of the girls said yes, most of the guys said no. I found this interesting. Excitement must only happen amongst the male gender when they kill everyone in their path during a video game. I’ve seen it. When I observe the guys playing Halo, it’s very loud and very hilarious watching them get mad for someone killing them, even though that’s the point of the game. Graduation produced more of a “meh” response. Most of the ones I talked to just wanted to get out. Even graduation produces different emotions between boys and girls, and no I will not refer to our demographic as men and women. We are legally men and women. Nothing in our minds and words imply anything of the sort.

Because the schedules were different practically every day, I must have said goodbye to my friends at least five times. I was always skeptical as to whether I would ever see them again, but I usually did anyway. But that was ok. The guys I hung out with were tolerant of my slight (slight) sentimentality and my insistence on writing more than just my name in their yearbook.

Oh..and presents! Graduating means getting presents!

The crossover assembly was very nice, and not as sad as I expected. My picture appeared only once in the Senior Slideshow (thank goodness). It was the day of my last serpentine and  I was being silly, and I’m usually not silly in pictures. It was weird seeing, because I hadn’t seen the picture since it was taken. My friend took the picture, and she submitted it. Still, it was a nice slideshow. The baby and primary school pictures were all very cute.

What was funny about the assembly that I particularly wanted to note was how they kept going on about how “special” this senior class was because we were the first freshmen in 25 years, and we get to witness this huge remodel of the school, and we won “Most School Spirited” two years in a row. That made me curious. What do they say to the other senior classes? Are all of them really all that great? But that’s the only thing that really stuck with me from the assembly, even though I’m supposed to remember this year of my life for a long time. I won’t. I’ll remember stress, mistakes, and maybe some friends I had. And the stabbing. That’s it. 

On the last day of my AP Lit class, it hit me that I wasn’t going to have this class anymore. It would be much more difficult to find people who enjoy Crime and Punishment as much as I do. Sure, I could friend my teacher on Facebook, but that isn’t the same. I know very few people who have read the books I have, and I don’t want that to sound conceited. I long to find those people! I want to start a Classic Literature book club but I have neither time nor the willing people. Usually, when I discuss the books I read, I either get people who have heard of it but haven’t read it or I get the look that screams “You read that?!” Only in my AP Lit class could I extensively analyze Brave New World (review here) and have people really listen to it. So, what saddened me most about leaving the class was not the fact the class was over, but now I had to make an effort to find people with similar interests. My close friends will gladly listen to me ramble on about the parallel between Lazarus and Raskolnikov. But that’s not really a discussion. But I’m over that now. I just hope that being away from AP Lit doesn't influence me to stop reading these types of books. 

The last day of school (which, for seniors, consisted of the crossover assembly, acquiring graduation tickets and going home) was full of last minute yearbook signing, hugs, and laughs and anticipation. Everyone looked happy, even though we were leaving. I suppose, technically, there was still the Senior Breakfast and the Senior Picnic, but I didn’t want to go to either of those. I had already said goodbye and had my closure, and I didn’t see any reason to make the goodbyes any harder. Besides, the Senior Picnic was at a water park, and I suspected it was going to rain that day. It did.

Graduation was almost unreal. Nothing spectacular happened, but it was weird being in a place that seemed so far off for so long. I got my diploma and blah blah blah. I said some last minute goodbyes to people and was so exhausted by that point, I wasn’t even excited anymore. I wanted to get out of there, and fast. So I came home and fell asleep until 8 or 9 at night. I didn’t eat dinner or anything. My body was almost at collapsing point and I was pretty grouchy. I feel bad now, because my parents were proud of me and wanted to go out to dinner, but I was exhausted and irritated, that I didn’t want to do anything at all. We settled for KFC. I wonder how I’ll be on my wedding day. I wonder if I’ll be so tired by the reception that I wouldn’t want to dance with my new husband and just want to sleep on the floor until everyone went home.

Now, I have way too much free time to know what to do with. I have yet to find a job, and have yet to obtain my license, and I can’t really start my life until I have both of those things. But until now, I had forgotten how long the days are and how slow time goes when you have nothing to do. I was hoping to get some more reading done…but I’ve been too lethargic to do anything. I’m still in the process of reading six or so books. My main goal is to finish Fahrenheit 451. This, I think, will be my last dystopian book that I read. They’re all the same. The main ones that were considered original in the era they were written are 1984, Brave New World, and Fahrenheit 451. After that, dystopian novels are predictable and cliché. If there’s one I’m missing, let me know. But those three are the ones everyone talks about. I got many books as graduation presents, so I should be set for a while, in regards to reading. But I can never keep away. I checked out more books today and I had to use my mom’s card because mine has been blocked for a while now. I have yet to read the books I checked out on my card, but I think I’ll return them anyway. Mystery isn’t really my thing, although the Agatha Christie book I did read was very good. Just not C&P good. Besides, I want to read The Jungle next.

My high school experience hasn’t been a very significant one in regards to my peers. Frankly, I wasn’t popular enough to be remembered by a lot of people, and I doubt I’ll remember a lot of the friends I had after several years. All I’ll know is that I embraced nerdiness, and surrounded myself with nerdy people (mostly guys) when I was a senior. By that time though, I’ll probably mush junior and senior year together. I’ll probably remember all the stupid things I did, and not enough of the cool things I did. I might remember that I refused to act fully silly and weird around anyone but Hayley, because I have always had this phobia (yes, an irrational fear) of looking stupid around people smarter/cooler/better than me. I considered most of my friends cooler than me. And many of them were smarter than me because they had embraced nerdiness long before I had. I’ll probably remember how I hated sitting in the back of the Sno-Isle bus, and how stressful Sno-Isle was my senior year. But these nostalgic moments (especially after I’m pretty much settled down) will more than likely be few and far between. High school is supposed to be a faded memory because there’s so much you have to do after graduation. Being well known in high school doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll become your definition of “successful” when you’re older. Vice versa applies as well. Saying you went to high school with a celebrity isn’t as cool as it sounds because, chances are, you hardly remember them at all.

Of course, I want everyone I went to high school with (including those who have yet to graduate) to have happy lives. Just, please don’t take it personally if I unfriend you on Facebook after a couple months or years. You probably wouldn’t remember me if we weren’t friends of Facebook, and there’s really no reason to remember me anyway. You have better things to think about than high school, and as do I. So please, do not think I’m doing this because you have offended me in some way or I think you are no longer suitable for friendship of the Facebook kind. I am only moving on from the past, as you should be.

Best wishes.

Senior Year: Caring Does Not Equal Missing

I'm pretty proud of myself for coming to terms with graduation before it actually happens. Some time ago, although I don't know say when exactly, I realized that most people I talk to at school now I'm not going to care about after I graduate. Some of my schoolmates get it. People change and friends come and go. That's how life is. Others think that since I'm not going to miss them three years from now then I don't care about them at all.

Seriously?

If you know me at all, you'll know I love people. More than one person should, I think. It's gotten me in trouble more than once. So it's obvious that the last day of school is going to be sad. There's an assembly where the seniors watch a slideshow and it's all very sweet. I'm looking forward to it. But I'm realistic. There's only one person I can think of that I'll probably keep it touch with for a while after graduation. Probably. Everyone else will drift, acquire new interests, and high school will only be a distant memory. That's normal. Realistic.

Am I going to miss my friends? Of course! But not for very long. Maybe a year or two. I'm thinking that some might keep in touch for a while, and then slowly forget. I used to to be that person that attempted to keep in touch, but I'm don't do that anymore because 98% of the time it's not mutual and I'm just being annoying. If they text me randomly, then I'll text them randomly too. But if it's only one or the other, the contact is few and far between. And by that I mean we see each other at the supermarket fifteen years from now.

Obviously I'll remember some people better than others. Memories will last a lot longer than just a couple years. But they'll only be memories. It's sad that so many of my schoolmates haven't come to terms that most of their friends in high school won't last after graduation. Close friends sometimes do, but even that's only probable. People change a lot from the ages of eighteen to twenty-five.

I brought this up with one of my friends a month ago, and he implied that I was acting as if we weren't friends and that I didn't care. This irritated me, but I couldn't explain it this extensively within the few seconds I had to think of a response. So I pretty much blurted out the first paragraph of this blog in a less coherent manner. The conversation ended awkwardly and I felt guilty for bringing it up. Then I realized that the end of the year is going to be a lot sadder than it needs to be. And every day I leave school in the month of June, I'm probably going to feel depressed. All my friends are going to go on about how much they'll miss me and I will go on about how I'll miss them. And I'll be sad because all the guys I hang out with won't be as emotional and I'll question whether they really ever cared. I know that's pathetic and stupid, but it's one of my girl-minded tendencies that I hate. I have brought it up before.

Anyway, the end of the semester is coming up and I'm already nervous about that. Only once of my classes is changing. It happens to be Modern Fiction, the best class to end my day. Why? The people, of course. I always laugh in that class. Every. Single. Day. Even on the day of the stabbing I laughed. I didn't want to because I felt horrible beyond words that entire week, but I did anyway. The teacher hates all of us, but that's the fun of it. Ok, not all of the fun. When she gets mad, she gets really mad. I'm sorry we're so terrible to you Ms. Short.

The point is that the class is awesome, and I'm really going to miss it. Another reason is that I have friends in that class that I wouldn't talk to if we didn't have Modern Fiction together. They're going to go away. I'll miss them terribly because I grown to care way too much about them over the past three months. But I'll get over it.

Just like how I'll get over high school. Physically and emotionally. I really wish people would see that, but I don't blame them. My first blog post about senior year was me freaking out about how I'm not going to be able to handle this. But I'll be fine. We'll all be fine.

This'll be a good year.

Senior Year: First Month-ish

All right, I admit. The only reason I've been blogging for three days in a row is because I'm sick and have nothing else to do. Surprisingly, TV does get boring after awhile. But here is an update on school so far (stuff I didn't mention on my other post).

First of all, I got an A- on my summer assignment!! Woot! I am so proud of myself because I worked really hard on it. I love AP Lit so much. It's my favorite class this year. Sorry, Sno-Isle. It's been a good run, but constantly working in groups is not really my thing. We can still be friends though, right? Sno-Isle?

Oh well. Today I learned that our project in Sno-Isle is due Monday, which is a huge relief. My group didn't make much progress today. In all honesty though, it's not like I'm the shining beacon of responsibility and I always get things done. Today would have been a slack-off day, especially since Snohomish leaves early. An hour early to be exact. The important thing is that we finish, and I'm fairly certain we will. Come on, though, it's only the second project of the year, I'm sure we'll get better. No, my teacher (Tory) is not the type to force us to stay in one group all year, I choose to stay with them. Why? Well, it's definitely not their work ethic. Haha. I stay with them because I would get bored rather quickly if all we did was work. When I get a real job, sarcasm will probably be scarce, so I'm savoring it while I can. If you ask them why they're staying in the group, though, I honestly have no idea what they'll say. It's not because of me, I know that. Actually, if any one of us left the group, none of us would stop them. I mean, they're a bunch of guys and that means it's all logic and no emotion. I might miss them if they leave the group, but I'm the emotion. Just ask, they'll tell you. So I think it's the whole group that makes everyone stick together. Wow, that sounds incredibly cheesy, but what other reason is there? None of them are reading this (probably) and they aren't about to stop me randomly and say "Let me tell you all the things that make this group so amazing and why we haven't abandoned you." That's my job. I constantly tell them how great they're doing. Or how not so great they're doing. I don't know why, because it's not like it helps them any. But as team leader I'd feel weird if I was "that team leader" who constantly told everyone how bad they were doing and that all the work they did wasn't good enough. But I also don't want to be "that team leader" who literally sits there silently without giving any instruction. Wait...I've actually done that. But that was because of my cold and I was incredibly exhausted. I know, I know, I'm making excuses, but I seriously don't want to do that again. I've discovered that if I'm not working, they don't progress as well, just because it is a group effort after all.

The nice thing about working with guys in this age group is that none of them start bugging me about not working unless they're teasing me. Trust me, I've heard some girls (including me) get really mad about that one person on their group who didn't do anything. Heck, I've ranted about this group to my friends. But after working with them for a little bit, I realized that none of them actually want to fail. None of them actually like seeing me flip out on them either (which I have done three or four times. Not recently though). There have been people who enjoy seeing me flip out. If these guys were like that, I would dislike them all. Me being mad is amusing (because it's so unlike me), but they aren't trying to make me mad, which I appreciate. It's not just any group after all. It's my group.

Ok, now I'm sounding to much like a mom (that happens quite often, no joke) so I'm going try not to think about the last day of senior year when it hits me I'll never see them again. I'm dreading that day. I'm not going to cry, that's a fact. First of all, I've never cried at school before (except in 4th grade when I had a really bad ear infection). Secondly, a lot of my friends are guys, and not only do none of them want to see me get emotional, but they aren't going to be emotional. Nothing. Zilch. I'm starting to see why so many romantic relationships don't work out in high school because girls don't realize that just because guys don't act as happy as the girl does in the relationship, it doesn't mean the guy doesn't care. Boys and girls are different. But I have girlish tendencies too. Somewhere in the back of my head are my emotions telling me that if a guy friend doesn't scream "I'll miss you!" on the brink of tears directly to me, then maybe he doesn't actually care. Of course that isn't true. But those are consistent thoughts that go through my head on the last day of school. "Are they going to miss me at all?" And if they say they'll miss me, that never works because they have to be all emotional about, like we're dating or something. Realistically, if one of them did do that to me, it'd be weird and awkward and I'd question our relationship throughout the year (we were just friends, right?).

Sometimes I hate being a girl that loves people so much. It takes me longer to get over things. So I'll have to force myself to not keep in contact with any of my friends (except Hayley and a couple exceptions) because if I don't the "drifting apart" will take too long, which always makes it worse. It's high school. You're supposed to make friends you'll never see again. But imagine if we were launched into a workplace right away and had never had a close friend before. We would either make the wrong ones because we don't know what we like, or isolate ourselves and be lonely the rest of our lives. I'm pathetic, I know. I've already started planning out what I want to say in other people's yearbooks. It's the first month of school.

"And here on the left, you'll see First Street, the home of our popular antique shops and shows. Wait...what's that? Oh, it's Michaela being nostalgic again. GO HOME!"

 "But...but I don't want to! I'll never see them again!"

"You graduated twenty years ago! Get off the street corner! You look ridiculous."

"I want to go back! Let me go back!"

"Oh no. Quick! Someone grab the time machine before she gets to it first!"

See, it's funny because we don't have tour guides in Snohomish. The town is much too small and boring. But I still love this town, and this state for that matter. What can I say, I'm a sucker for rain. But I'll blog about rain later. That post will be much shorter, I promise.

Wait..I just realized this was supposed to be about school. I get on the topic of Sno-Isle and it all goes haywire. Great.

"Hello. My name is Michaela...and I am nostalgic..."

"Hi Michaela..."

I should consider joining NA (Nostalgics Anonymous). There's quite a confusion because NA already stands for Not Applicable. Not many people know about it.

Anyway, I need to leave before I become a hot nostalgic mess and this blog post becomes really long.

Oh wait...

To Be Continued....never...

Writing has always been a big passion of mine. Hence, a blog. But I've found I've always been terrible at satisfying suspense. At least to me. No one has told me either way. But I do know how an ending can ruin the whole book.
There is a certain author I read for a period of time. She was excellent at producing cliffhangers and the "edge-of-your-seat" kind of format. But she wrote preteen kids books. So her books had impossibly happy endings. This ruined the whole experience for me. Ever since I read her books I wanted to make sure I was never like that.
Recently I wrote a dark story. This is pretty normal for me, but this one I tried to make more realistic instead of morbid. I think it's ok, and the two people I showed it to said it was ok, but I hated the ending. I ruined my story with the ending. It was intended to be a story about someone who no one cared about. So the first half or so is pretty depressing and sad. This is the part of the story I like the most. It sounds like my usual voice of writing. Then I wanted the story to have a happy ending. So I made an incredibly happy ending. Like, too good to be true happy ending. I hate it.
This is exactly why I don't normally "end" my stories. The words cease to continue but the story still goes on in the reader's mind. That's how I want my audience to experience my stories. Those stories always get the best feedback. So I don't let myself learn how to end a good book properly. Then I'm not able to progress in my writing, it just stays the same. Of course, I don't write like a five-year old, but I'm not positive I'll be able to get past my teen writings, which become less and less good the older you get and the higher everyone's standards get.
I'd like to think after a couple years of doing a blog or something of that nature, I'll look back and wonder if it's really me, if I really used to write like that. There's no way that I can progress unless I make mistakes first. Mistakes help you learn, it's a fact of life. But how can I possibly know the mistake I make unless someone tells me? I know there are writers better than me, there always will be, at least in my opinion. This doesn't mean I want people to sugar coat their feedback. Yet, I still want them to be tactful. Is that too much to ask?
Anyway, if you want an example of how I usually end my stories, have a link to my favorite video I've done. I'd show you from here, but the file's gone. So here, have a link:

Sara Bareilles-Gravity Music Video (sims 2)

So now you know how I hate ending things...

*ahem*

Um...I'm...just gonna go...then...bye..

*leaves awkwardly*