It is with a (somewhat) heavy heart that I write my final Senioritis column.
We seniors have less than two weeks of school left. We have made countdowns, set phone alarms and decorated the June 11 square on our calendars with pretty markers and stickers. My mom and I even came up with a brilliant business idea for the “graduate” demographic: Advent calendars for seniors; Gradvent calendars, if you will.
The Class of 2011 is a creative one. We’ve turned The Mycenaean from a legitimate news source into one big class diary for all to read, created “Senior Days” in order to justify the obnoxiousness of seniors on every eleventh day of the month, and even painted the O’Neal-Leesville intersection a total of three times (thank you class of 2010 and 2012 for giving us the opportunity). We like to do things differently.
The fact that my senior class is the red-headed stepchild of Leesville is the reason I began this column. It has been a difficult year and a stressful one, which I personally think has only strengthened the evidence that my class is stranger than the warlocks Charlie Sheen seems to see everywhere.
On behalf of my (stupid? innovative? daring?) class, I apologize to underclassmen and future classes. We will most likely be remembered as “That Class That Ruined Everything For Everybody.”
I thought by now I would be nostalgic and wistful about this being the last month of the last year of my childhood life. However, I am too busy going to superfluous “Senior Assembly Speech Meetings,” nearly wetting my pants after reading the scary Senior Bulletin (“If you do not wear black shoes, YOU WILL NOT GRADUATE! If you do not wear your mortarboard parallel to the ground, YOU WILL NOT GRADUATE!), and telling Woong-Soo and Matt, the people in charge of the Senior Map, that no, I am not going to UNC-CH, and please stop mapping me on Chapel Hill, NC. As anyone can see, I am far too busy to reminisce.
I suppose watching Glee and discussing how homosexual the show has become as well as taking naps all the time drains a lot of my time as well. But I digress.
If I’m being totally honest, this year wasn’t that bad. But doesn’t everybody say that once the horror movie is over and their soiled pants are fresh from the dryer?
Suffice it to say that yes, the seniors before me were right: this year has passed quickly. But I will not burst into tears when I share my pearls of wisdom with seniors to come. I will probably advise them to learn from my idiot class’s mistakes and to behave themselves and take into serious consideration their own senioritis before signing up for twelve AP classes in hopes of impressing UNC.
Also, if they’re ever in Missouri, don’t be a stranger.