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***Taken directly from my Blog on MSN Spaces. Sadly, I can't give the link. But if I write something that I think can benefit someone else, I'll post it here. I might have to change the language, as I do swear is a few entries... but not this one!***
019
***
Jenny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
I'm so excited, I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty, and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
The summer's all in bloom
The summer is ending soon
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt
I sneak into his car's cracked leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
Boy, we're going way too fast
It's all too sweet to last
***
Well, I now have blonde in my hair. I've had blonde in my hair for a few days now. Also, Sunday I got my 8th ear piercing! Will most likely get my 9th (cartilage) in a month or so, and another in the cartilage once my friend Erica gets back from camp, possibly. Like I said in a past post, summer is about re-creating yourself for the upcoming school year. Also, for me, Summer is about preparing for my final year of high school, and how things will never be the same on the last day of classes, or during my last cast party, sitting in a darkened room surrounded by the people I love so much, and who have molded me into a confident young performer, not afraid to sing out loud, and to break the silence with wild randomness. Play has created my personality because of the different styles of plays done, each with a different message and terrific cast.
It's hard to believe it's all over in a matter of 10 or 11 months, and I'll be moving onto yet another school with more freedom then the last. It seems our freedoms have been granted to us not by maturity, but by age, and group distinction. Kindergarten, we had our own section in the school, not mingling with the older kids until Grade 1, when uniforms were in demand, and we had lunch with the grade 2's and 3's in the un-even lunch room, and recess with the grade 2's. And then, grade 3, we're the top of the ladder, leaders of the younger children, and then grade 4 roles around and we're the babies being picked on. Grade 6, we're the creme of the crop, the kings of the school and play ground. Then graduation. I remember bawling my eyes out on my last day of grade 6. I was scared. I didn't want to leave.
My last day of grade 11 will be the same. And it's already happening, tears of fear appear at the corner of my eyes as I write this, thinking of the friendships that will be lost, and the memories that will eventually fade as new ones come towards me. The cliques won't matter because we're leaving the same way we came in. Bare in spirit, because we don't know what's going to happen to us after those final hours of school before the bell finally rings, announcing the end of our five wonderful years at Bialik High School, where we had 12-13 subjects where other schools had 7. We are the future of the world. The people who will one day meet each other at our 30 or 40 year high school reunion and smile and laugh and talk to the people we never spoke to during school, and when that day comes, I'm going to go up to every single one, shake their hand and thank them for giving me the best days and memories of my life. Even though a few made me miserable in the Junior years, the guys are growing up and maturing, the girls feeling more comfortable in situations, and hopefully are learning that true beauty is found from within, and not what a model on a cover of a magazine says.
And for those who are entering grade 10, enjoy it. It'll be one of the most stressful, emotional, and thrilling years of your life. You'll cry, you'll throw temper tantrums, and you'll love the people you could never stand because we're all in this together. It doesn't matter if the girl who needs help called you ugly last year, or if the boy who is offering you his notes from when you were sick, even though he told the nastiest rumors about you. Sure, the grudges will hold, but forget them, because it's moments like those that you'll have to cherish forever, and will remember for years to come, and will laugh about it when you're older. It's true. I'm laughing about quite a few incidents over the past year, which is the toughening of Samantha. My personality has evolved so much... I'm still quite shy, but I'm *gasp* more impulsive, there's more self-confidence and esteem flowing through these veins and you know what? Hate me or love me, I'm here for the long run, so are you, so shut up, and let's be on talking terms. Let's say "hi" to each other in the hallways, and say "good luck" before a major test to each other.
It's because of high school we can be like in the movies, and throw our books and papers into the air while running out of the school doors, screaming and laughing like in Grease when our time comes to hand the responsibilities to watch after our school when we're gone. It is our school, because the school shapes us. Through the experiences endured, we've become tougher, and we're ready for whatever the world throws at us because, hey, we're going to be 17 when we leave the doors for the final time and never return. We're practically adults, on the brink of legal drinking age (although that's never stopped anyone... heh, guilty) and we can drive. Just don't do them both at the same time. We've been given our own selves back from the people who taught us, and watched us grow from the small, timid grade seveners to the towering, in-your-face young adults. And in that batch of young adults, we have so many different people, from the sport dogs to the theater group to the fashion chicks, and those in between.
We've talked about everything and anything in class, the halls, and have timed how long it takes a rumor to pass through the halls of Bialik (Less then 5 minutes on a good day) as well as how many times Mr. Gillick said 'OK' while trying to explain wave lengths and such (About 257 in 45 minutes to an hour) as well as have a few kick ass fund raisers, and make a dent in Breast Cancer research, thanks to Mrs. Stein, a devoted English, drama, and math teacher, who aided her grade 7 classes back in 2K2-2K3 with the lap tops. All the teachers who aided us deserves the best int he world, whether they stuck through with us from our first day at Bialik till the end, or those who helped us for a month, or even a week. They made an impact in our lives be it large or small. We owe our lives to them. We owe us, today, who we are, to high school and for just a minute, or two, I'm standing at the 4 tinted front doors, throwing my books and papers into the air, and imagining what my final words to this glorious building and it's inhabitants will be. Am I crying? Of course! Who wouldn't after 5 years of life within those walls? They may be the color of diluted cat piss with grey lockers, life started and continued when we wrote the entry exams and saw the faces of our classmates for the first time, not knowing who we will talk to, or how they would aid in our growth.
To you, the class of 2K6, I salute you. To the teachers, administration, everyone at Bialik, thank you. And last but not least, to my Play Junkies and friends in the younger years, I love you all, and am so proud to know my school is in the hands of people who spice up the atmosphere of the place, giving it character and a uniqueness that is Bialik. Cheers.
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