The Last Post
I'll begin this entry by summarizing the events of the past week, as they have been as much a blur to me as they must have been to everyone else. Wednesday was my party, i spent a good deal of the week preparing for that. It ended up raining a good bit during my party, but I thought that it was fun anyways. Maybe only because it was my party, but i still thought it was fun.
Nautical, how fitting. A "Bon Voyage" for the seniors. I thought it was cute at least. That night i went to Honors and Awards, i got all pimped out and was quite proud of how i looked. I didn't win anything, though, to be honest, i hadn't really expected to. I was Soo incredibly proud of the people that did win, however. I feel like you guys really did deserve it, you clearly have a passion to want to succeed in those areas and its clear why you stood out. Of course, the sexual favors didnt hurt...(jamie, im looking at you).
Late in the ceremony, it became time for me to deliver a short speech (which i had of course written during the first half of the night). When i got up to the podium, and it was Avery, Mary, and I, i realized, this is what i had been working towards all year long. This one brief moment was what i poured hours upon hours of work into the yearbook for, or so i thought. I got to the podium, the eloquent speech in my hand, and for some reason, god only knows why, i started to shake. I dont know if you could see it from the audience, but i have been on that stage dozens of times, in front of audiences filling wall to wall. Hell, i've even gotten to second base on that stage in front of the entire upper school, so why would this speech be so hard? The words just sputtered out of my mouth, i could barely breath, but i made it to the end and just rolled my eyes at how ridiculous i had sounded/felt over the last minute or so. It was wierd, as soon as i reached for the yearbook, and touched it, and saw it, i remembered why i had done all of the work, why i had fought so hard for what i wanted, and why i killed myself over so many details. I handed the book to Mr. Bratek (overly pompous headmaster) and said "Congratulations."
what?
congratulations?
But thats truly how i felt. I was congratulating him on getting the best damn award of the night, in my opinon. He got the fucking first yearbook. THE MOST AWESOME YEARBOOK that this school has ever seen, let alone the rest of the world. That damn yearbook was my heart and soul, as stupid or as superficial or as cheesy as that may sound. Thats when i realized why i had done what i did. It wasnt to stand on stage and feel important, or to see my name on the editors page; it was to express myself, and express myself i did. The best compliment about the yearbook came from doctor crumley, he said, "I really see you in the yearbook, especially in the cover, its like...mod/60's/british, but very cool and very loud and just really kindof tongue-in-cheek." Im not saying that it was me alone who did it, or who thought of all the ideas or who designed every page. By no means am i saying that. But im saying that what I worked towards was a genuine body of self-expression. The fact that other people's thoughts and ideas play into that is really cool to me. Its hard to explain, but i hope you get it. In a way im saying that the yearbook is me; its got some flaws I couldnt help, and i look back on it and in some areas its imperfect and its my own fault, but overall, its something im really proud of.
okay.
So baccalaureate, not as bad as i thought it would be, the speaker was good, the chorus was good, and i especially thought that McConnell's ending prayer was incredibly good. The robes were boiling, but hey, what else do you expect from polyester gowns made in mexico?
So then graduation. Actually not all that it's cracked up to be. Keep in mind that you are sitting in chairs, shoulder to shoulder with people you dont really talk to (cept you chicken!), trying to focus on a graduation speaker who is sweating bullets while your tassel whips you in the face. Not so much fun, until you get your diploma. We all got back to the chair and when Mr. Topham said 'i present to you the class of 2005' we all broke into the slow clappy thing... Greg stood on top of his chair and led the cheer and when we said 'chargers fight, chargers win, wOOOO!!!' we all threw our hats. GOD that was so good, the best feeling ever, the best release, the most joy, the most excitment i could feel. The teachers behind me were cracking the hell up, they thought it was hilarious, i wish they had thrown their hats, that would have been funny. So afterwards, we all settled down somewhat, and Ginny the valedictorian made a speech. Admittedly, this part of the speech hit me pretty hard,
Lady(i dont remember who): "whats one thing you can say about your entire class?"
Ginny: "I dont know, i guess we're all pretty different"
Lady: "isnt that great?!?"
I really started to think about our class and my time here at PD. Yeah, sometimes it sucked, but to be realistic, it really didnt suck too often. In fact, most of the time i really enjoyed it. Even junior year, which sucked ballsack times infinity, didnt really suck too much. If i was pressed to think of ONE thing that defined our class, i wouldn't be able to.
Most are spirited, but not all. Most are smart, but not all. Most are nice, but not all. Some are conceited, some are boring, some are freaks, some are dumbasses, some are losers, some are like, completely awesome, some of us are sad to leave, some of us are nervous about the future, some of us are going to change the world, some of us will make the world a better place, and some of us will go forth and strive for excellence. But not all. We are all so different, and i dont know why it took me until graduation to realize that being different isnt necessarily a bad thing. I just always assumed i was different from everyone else, but now i realize that everyone is different from me (and you, and you and you and you). But then again, if i had realized this sooner, i would have had nothing to do on graduation except sit there and twiddle my thumbs and play circle games with my tassle and think happy thoughts about my classmates.
So, here's the thing, that baccalaureate speaker was wrong. "when one door closes, another one opens." Nah, thats bullshit. Doors dont close, there are no doors, just little paths through the forest of life. Today I left one path, ready to begin a journey on another. This new path is harder, and it takes me further from where i've been more than ever before, but this path is more fun, the challenge makes it different, and, as i've learned, different is good. Im not afraid to go on this path, im not worried about the people i meet, im not worried about the terrain or the weather or how many times i will fall. The only thing i can worry about is myself, and how strong i will stay when im on it. I'll grow up on this path, and when i leave it, i will be an adult, in an adult world with adult issues and adult friends. Its scary, how close this is, this journey that i have to take.
What this is leading to, i suppose, is the fact that this is my last post. Its time for me to leave this, this, whatever it is, behind and start a fresh. Im going to leave littlechamp in my childhood as a fond memory to be cherished and loved, and go forth and find new clothes to fit who i am. Im going to re-make myself into a person that i like, not that i dont like myself now, its just that if i want to make this experience worthwile, i cant bring the baggage from my childhood with me, weighing me down as i make my journey into adulthood. Meaning, therefore, that i can't take all of you with me.
As i write this, im crying, because this community has meant so much to me over the years, and i know i couldnt have made it without your support and reassurance guiding me through my experiences. I have very few regrets (other than a few outfits along the way) and you all should know that you've meant the absolute world to me, and i thank you for that.
So i guess you know what this means...
Hopefully we will cross paths in the future,
i love you all.
G
Nautical, how fitting. A "Bon Voyage" for the seniors. I thought it was cute at least. That night i went to Honors and Awards, i got all pimped out and was quite proud of how i looked. I didn't win anything, though, to be honest, i hadn't really expected to. I was Soo incredibly proud of the people that did win, however. I feel like you guys really did deserve it, you clearly have a passion to want to succeed in those areas and its clear why you stood out. Of course, the sexual favors didnt hurt...(jamie, im looking at you).
Late in the ceremony, it became time for me to deliver a short speech (which i had of course written during the first half of the night). When i got up to the podium, and it was Avery, Mary, and I, i realized, this is what i had been working towards all year long. This one brief moment was what i poured hours upon hours of work into the yearbook for, or so i thought. I got to the podium, the eloquent speech in my hand, and for some reason, god only knows why, i started to shake. I dont know if you could see it from the audience, but i have been on that stage dozens of times, in front of audiences filling wall to wall. Hell, i've even gotten to second base on that stage in front of the entire upper school, so why would this speech be so hard? The words just sputtered out of my mouth, i could barely breath, but i made it to the end and just rolled my eyes at how ridiculous i had sounded/felt over the last minute or so. It was wierd, as soon as i reached for the yearbook, and touched it, and saw it, i remembered why i had done all of the work, why i had fought so hard for what i wanted, and why i killed myself over so many details. I handed the book to Mr. Bratek (overly pompous headmaster) and said "Congratulations."
what?
congratulations?
But thats truly how i felt. I was congratulating him on getting the best damn award of the night, in my opinon. He got the fucking first yearbook. THE MOST AWESOME YEARBOOK that this school has ever seen, let alone the rest of the world. That damn yearbook was my heart and soul, as stupid or as superficial or as cheesy as that may sound. Thats when i realized why i had done what i did. It wasnt to stand on stage and feel important, or to see my name on the editors page; it was to express myself, and express myself i did. The best compliment about the yearbook came from doctor crumley, he said, "I really see you in the yearbook, especially in the cover, its like...mod/60's/british, but very cool and very loud and just really kindof tongue-in-cheek." Im not saying that it was me alone who did it, or who thought of all the ideas or who designed every page. By no means am i saying that. But im saying that what I worked towards was a genuine body of self-expression. The fact that other people's thoughts and ideas play into that is really cool to me. Its hard to explain, but i hope you get it. In a way im saying that the yearbook is me; its got some flaws I couldnt help, and i look back on it and in some areas its imperfect and its my own fault, but overall, its something im really proud of.
okay.
So baccalaureate, not as bad as i thought it would be, the speaker was good, the chorus was good, and i especially thought that McConnell's ending prayer was incredibly good. The robes were boiling, but hey, what else do you expect from polyester gowns made in mexico?
So then graduation. Actually not all that it's cracked up to be. Keep in mind that you are sitting in chairs, shoulder to shoulder with people you dont really talk to (cept you chicken!), trying to focus on a graduation speaker who is sweating bullets while your tassel whips you in the face. Not so much fun, until you get your diploma. We all got back to the chair and when Mr. Topham said 'i present to you the class of 2005' we all broke into the slow clappy thing... Greg stood on top of his chair and led the cheer and when we said 'chargers fight, chargers win, wOOOO!!!' we all threw our hats. GOD that was so good, the best feeling ever, the best release, the most joy, the most excitment i could feel. The teachers behind me were cracking the hell up, they thought it was hilarious, i wish they had thrown their hats, that would have been funny. So afterwards, we all settled down somewhat, and Ginny the valedictorian made a speech. Admittedly, this part of the speech hit me pretty hard,
Lady(i dont remember who): "whats one thing you can say about your entire class?"
Ginny: "I dont know, i guess we're all pretty different"
Lady: "isnt that great?!?"
I really started to think about our class and my time here at PD. Yeah, sometimes it sucked, but to be realistic, it really didnt suck too often. In fact, most of the time i really enjoyed it. Even junior year, which sucked ballsack times infinity, didnt really suck too much. If i was pressed to think of ONE thing that defined our class, i wouldn't be able to.
Most are spirited, but not all. Most are smart, but not all. Most are nice, but not all. Some are conceited, some are boring, some are freaks, some are dumbasses, some are losers, some are like, completely awesome, some of us are sad to leave, some of us are nervous about the future, some of us are going to change the world, some of us will make the world a better place, and some of us will go forth and strive for excellence. But not all. We are all so different, and i dont know why it took me until graduation to realize that being different isnt necessarily a bad thing. I just always assumed i was different from everyone else, but now i realize that everyone is different from me (and you, and you and you and you). But then again, if i had realized this sooner, i would have had nothing to do on graduation except sit there and twiddle my thumbs and play circle games with my tassle and think happy thoughts about my classmates.
So, here's the thing, that baccalaureate speaker was wrong. "when one door closes, another one opens." Nah, thats bullshit. Doors dont close, there are no doors, just little paths through the forest of life. Today I left one path, ready to begin a journey on another. This new path is harder, and it takes me further from where i've been more than ever before, but this path is more fun, the challenge makes it different, and, as i've learned, different is good. Im not afraid to go on this path, im not worried about the people i meet, im not worried about the terrain or the weather or how many times i will fall. The only thing i can worry about is myself, and how strong i will stay when im on it. I'll grow up on this path, and when i leave it, i will be an adult, in an adult world with adult issues and adult friends. Its scary, how close this is, this journey that i have to take.
What this is leading to, i suppose, is the fact that this is my last post. Its time for me to leave this, this, whatever it is, behind and start a fresh. Im going to leave littlechamp in my childhood as a fond memory to be cherished and loved, and go forth and find new clothes to fit who i am. Im going to re-make myself into a person that i like, not that i dont like myself now, its just that if i want to make this experience worthwile, i cant bring the baggage from my childhood with me, weighing me down as i make my journey into adulthood. Meaning, therefore, that i can't take all of you with me.
As i write this, im crying, because this community has meant so much to me over the years, and i know i couldnt have made it without your support and reassurance guiding me through my experiences. I have very few regrets (other than a few outfits along the way) and you all should know that you've meant the absolute world to me, and i thank you for that.
So i guess you know what this means...
Hopefully we will cross paths in the future,
i love you all.
G