This is going to be a life blog. I do not apologize.*
This summer, I began asking myself what I wanted to remember about high school. Those of you who have been here a while or who know me IRL are aware of the fact that I’ve never attended a “normal” high school. For my freshman and sophomore years, I went to a cooperative school. But last year (my junior year), I began taking all my classes at a local community college. So, this year is both my senior year of high school and my sophomore year in college. I guess you could say that I haven’t had the most typical of high school experiences.
I mean, I have attempted to “experience” all the things kids my age experience (No, Mom, that doesn’t mean sex, drugs, and alcohol…). I’ve played sports for my local school, gone to dances (ok, one dance),and cheered at homecoming games. The cool thing, though, is that I am in the unique position of shaping what my personal experience looks like.
For me, high school will remind me of seeing my first Broadway show (“Memphis”) or the time I went to a six hour concert showcasing local artists or being able to intern for credit at my college’s theater department. I’ll think of meeting the Vlogbrothers and Tom Milsom and Raven Zoe. I’ll laugh at the memory of the time I went for a walk in the snow at midnight, dressed in footie pajamas and a kola hat, with two of my best friend or staying up all night to marathon Doctor Who or Buffy. High school will be where I broke a boy’s heart for the first time and where another boy kept breaking mine. It will be the time of my life where I left the country for the first time, pushed myself to actually make friends, and discovered a love for Nutella.
I have the rare privilege of being able to plan my own graduation. When I first started high school, the song at the top of this post would have seemed the most appropriate song to play at the ceremony. Everything was embarrassing. But as I found my footing, I realized that the fact I was embarrassed was good. It meant that I hadn’t allowed myself to stagnate. I was out doing things. The last thing that I want is to look back on my own life and realize that I’ve been a spectator.
I’m reaching the point where I’m in a state of perpetual nostalgia. 🙂
*lies. I feel awful when I life blog.