The last day of my senior year has finally come; the curtain closes on a four year journey of too much homework, teen drama, cutting class, advisories, heartbreak, SAT tests, administrative golf cart chases and college apps.

The only word that describes this stepping stone in my life is "exuberance," for what the future is bringing and for what is being left in the past. I’ve decided to take this time to reflect on my three fondest memories of high school.

A story that I think everyone will appreciate actually has to do with a Voice staff member and editor-in-chief Kristie Flatley. At Kristie’s sweet 16 party, everything was in its place: the ice sculpture, the cake, and the music were great, and everyone was genuinely having a fun time. Little did we know that in the next ballroom over a girl was celebrating her Quinceniera, which I assume must have been a boring party because a few of the young men there decided to crash Kristie’s party due to its appealing venue. About a second after slipping past the security guards and entering the party, they charged on over to the dance floor looking to "get their freak on." Well, Kristie’s father, the bold Jim Flatley just wasn’t having it with these intruders. As fast as you can say "dance floor," Kristie’s dad had pinned one of the lads against the wall with one hand. It was dead silence as he shouted "no one crashes my [censored by Voice] parties!" This happened my sophomore year and the fact that I remember it this vividly makes it worthy of one of the most hysterical moments in my entire high school career.

Yes I’m sure you’re laughing because even if your weren’t an attendee of the party it’s nevertheless very funny. A more sentimental moment in high school, which every class experiences, is the move from the grade’s original social zone to the deck and benches. Now you can go against the grain like the class of 2007 and attempt to make the transition in your Junior year, but hopefully after numerous reminders, they’ve gotten the memo that the senior class isn’t really in the sharing mood. Not that I’m being biased or anything but the class of 2006 did an exemplary job of the transition. Our freshmen year we did a good job of staying close to the library and near the English building trees and remaining invisible. As we because the upper half of the underclassmen we made a daring step and moved about 20 feet from our original location and resided at the edge of the quad, staying off the grass for the most part. Then we became juniors, which I believe is the most critical stage in the moving process. We continued our stay on the edge of the quad some of us strolling closer to the benches and art building. On the last day of school, while watching the streakers, we finally moved to the benches and deck and waved goodbye to the previous owners.

The last and final memory of high school I have yet to experience, is graduation. In the perfect world I will gracefully take my diploma while shaking hands with Principal Laurence and cross my tassel from one side to the other flawlessly. However, I am A.) Clumsy and B.) Been having reoccurring nightmares of falling on my face, dropping my diploma or having a gust of wind take my cap off my head. It won’t happen, because I’ve been practicing.

I’m sad, feeling kind of lost, and excited all at the same time. It’s hard to cram in all these emotions as I reflect on four important years of my life, but I’m managing to get by, especially with no homework.