A Taste of Honey

This year is shaping up to be a year of juniors for me. Of course I love the seniors and think we are a good class, but I'm discovering that we aren't as picture-perfect as we appear. Like Patrick, Ryan, and Nate getting drunk on New Year's and partying in front of the traffic cam. Like Ross and Sapna finally, finally, finally hooking up and becoming just another amorous couple making out all over. Like people being snotty and bitchy and lazy.

Not that the juniors are necessarily better. But I have tons of classes with juniors this year, and am finding that individual members of that class are decent. Even the ones I disdained, resented, wrote angry editorials about (Jeremy Tatar). And now I sit by Craig in stats, and he's an okay kid, too. Ted makes my day every day (that he attends school; I'm actually pretty worried about him) with his funny comments in physics and Euro. And of course I've always loved Emily, Robert, Mickey, Sasha, Alexandra, James. I played Scrabble with Craig, Jeremy, and Mr. McCoy the other night and discovered that mad English skillz aren't the only thing necessary to be good at that game, and that junior boys can defeat me (just like on the PSAT...Jeremy beat my score by two points). I lost horribly. But it got me out of quiz bowl practice, and that's just fine with me.

I really want to enjoy my senior year, to savor these last months at Auburn, but it's hard. I've reached the midyear slump of apathy, fatigue, and depression. It happens every year. Maybe today's not especially good to use as an example; I'm coming down with a cold, the medicine I took this morning left me in a fog all day, and I left the physics homework I stayed up late working on at home. One thing I do think will be good is dropping newspaper next semester. That will ease some stress. I'll still be editor, but at least I won't have to deal with it as directly. Although I will miss seeing my freshman buddies in the library that hour. I'm going to end up looking forward desperately to summer, as with every year, and then realize that I'm wasting my moments of friendship and teachers and high school student life with anticipation. I sometimes feel an urge to just give my friends a really big, strong hug; I'm so afraid of losing them. I have memories of them from as early as first grade. I have no idea what it's like not to be part of this close, familiar community of people basically like me, who have known me for years, never miss the chance to bring up my embarrassing moments from elementary school (like when I "married" my friend Bill on the playground), and so on.

I guess January's a bit early to be worrying about all this. I already wrote my "senior goodbye" for the newspaper, a couple of nights ago when I couldn't sleep. My New Year's resolution was to find something to be happy about and look forward to every day. I'm doing exactly what I'm afraid of: looking ahead without savoring the present. Like getting an iPod and being able to listen to Peter, Paul, and Mary's "Blowin' in the Wind," bringing back memories of my grandma tucking me in and playing that song as I fell asleep when I stayed at her house. Like just talking to my friends, sharing inside jokes that should have been beaten to death long ago. Like watching The Simpsons with my sister (I'm so scared of losing her, too, by the way). Like talking to Aashesh on the phone. Like Mr. Keyzer pantomiming canoeing across the physics room. Like driving home at night, singing along to the Rent soundtrack in my minivan. I should take a lesson from that: "No day but today."