After returning from spring break and beginning the Spring Term of school, I am starting to realize many new things that result from the ever-changing weather and spirits of students: More kids can hang out and relax outside, more guys and girls are holding hands, and that little basket at Isham is slowly being emptied. I, in fact, have made numerous trips there already, but what can I say, lollipops go so well with warm weather. (And what were you thinking?). Bright colors will emerge from both nature and everyone’s attire, and the Phallic Statue will probably make more sense to me in some weird, but understandable, way. Unfortunately, obstructing all of these great moods and inspirations from nature will be the work and final stretch of the school year. I thought about taking my Senior Spring maybe a year earlier, but being a repeat Upper didn’t really qualify me; in fact, nothing really did (Is Matt Yeager gonna have to choke someone?). I guess that means I now have to return the Alligator Mouth Slip n’ Slide, that enormous TV I just bought, and those fraternity capes and paddles I borrowed from my Uncle (and I had so much planned too). You should have seen some of the stuff I had coming in from eBay; I’m not at liberty to describe them, but they would have been very, very painful (have you seen my scars?). There’s this one place in Greenwich that I would always buy from, it was called “Bad Toys for Badman,” or something like that… quality stuff! I actually got a referral to that company from the guys at Golden Chopsticks, they really know their stuff. A little trivia here: at my old school, they called me “Captain Beat-down”, in Junior High they called me “Darth Beater”, and in Elementary School they called me “Master…” but that was when we didn’t know any better. My forehand swing might even get me recruited to play tennis in college, and I have never even played it before in my life! Should I even talk about my volleyball serve? But to return to my dilemma with spring, I think I must recognize that the Seniors earned their place and time to do nothing, and yes, it is unfair that I cannot take the privilege in joining their pointless doings and that, once again, I must choke someone. But, violence aside, I think that I should despise the Seniors for their lack of interest in their studies. I mean, I’m here, getting a 6.0 average with 6 classes and an IP while the Seniors bask in relaxation with different IP’s of their own. Most Seniors have just come back from two weeks of exotic vacationing, while I just had two weeks of getting the beat-down (yeah, getting a 6.0 wasn’t good enough for my parents). Most of those countries they went to sound like some weird sexual reference, like Little Monkey Island or Lower Bermuda Peninsula or something along those lines. But I must stop complaining eventually and face the reality that I probably will be sluggish when I hit the end of my Senior year; it’s really only natural. I only have so much more I can put out for the rest of this year, and I’ll be so overwhelmed with exhaustion, or laziness, that all I will be able to do is snicker and smirk at all the underclassmen as they walk past “my turf” next year. Until then, however, I should probably learn to appreciate the weather and spirit of spring. I should even learn to appreciate the Seniors – who else can I rely on for in-dorm barbeques and illegal cable?
