The Farewell Fever

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The Farewell Fever

photo by D. Crickets

photo by D. Crickets

photo by D. Crickets

Hayley Simon, Arts & Entertainment Editor

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“We learned to fly

Together side by side

I just hope the rest of my life

Would feel as good as my

High School Musical

Who says we have to let it go?

It’s the best part we’ve ever known

Step into the future”

These are the lyrics that whirl on repeat through my head as the school year comes to a close. And, man, can I tell you, high school was nothing like that unrealistic, misleading, yet amazing movie. There were no flash mobs during lunch, five minute long classes, or wildcat uniform-clad Troy Boltons roaming the halls. The only dancing we ever did was a messy performance in gym class and some fancy step-touch moves for the choir kids. And I have to admit I’m quite disappointed.

I do want to point out, however, that NASH had some things East High did not. We have more than two teachers! And our lockers are a blinding yellow instead of the boring beige ones in High School Musical (aside from Sharpay’s, of course). Plus, what shows more strength in a school than the prison-like building we have? I mean, windows, who needs ‘em?

Even if I do completely collapse, I am getting that diploma no matter what.”

But, hey, seniors, we’re almost out of here (sorry juniors). And our next step, a magical dream world of sleeping in and food variety and friends. I’d call it freedom, but some might also prefer the term college. Everyone is sort of stuck in limbo right now, torn between what they’re leaving behind and where they’re headed, but trust me life becomes a whole lot easier once you forget about everyone in your past, leave them in the dust, and move on with your life. The only “person” you might want to keep in touch with is your pet.

Obviously, I’m kidding, but like seriously don’t be a Debbie Downer about moving away to college. No one likes a Debbie Downer. Not even Debbie. Besides, it’s not like the teachers haven’t been telling us for the past semester that they’re “preparing us for college” and saying, “you’re practically in college already,” or “teachers in college won’t let you borrow a pencil.” Apparently, the teachers think we’re ready and have been for a while, so I guess it must be true. Like do I really need to take finals if I’m already a college freshman according to the all-knowing, wise, and never to be argued with adults in my life?

All that said, I still think I prefer the stress of finals to the daunting task of trying to figure out how to maximize the number of graduation parties I can attend. I’d happily take three finals in one day than go to three grad parties in one day. I think I’ll be a zombie of stiff smiles and “congratulations” by the end of June. Also, do I bring gifts to grad parties? And if so, for who? Everyone? Just my closest friends? Or should I just bring a bag of goodies to graduation and make it rain down upon the entire class of 2019? I can picture it: Gucci belts and Godiva chocolates (NA kids will settle for nothing less, naturally) sprinkling down, accidentally bumping into Aunt Jemima’s Canon Powershot SD750 camera and causing her to drop it on Uncle Fredrick’s head.

Speaking of family, it’s not like it’s intimidating at all for an entire crowd of relatives and flashing cameras to be looking down on us as we sit in our uncomfortable fold out chairs on the football field. I mean, seriously, it’s already going to be hard enough to walk onto that stage without falling over my clumsy self; I don’t need the added pressure of a thousand eyes boring into my soul. That said, even if I do completely collapse, I am getting that diploma no matter what. I will happily dive across the stage and snatch it from the hands of whichever staff member is presenting it to me, and then run the heck out of this place. My entire life has been working towards this moment — it is the epitome of my existence — and nothing is holding me back.

And with that final note, I’m outta here, guys. Peace and love, my peeps, peace and love.