[ 6 Comments ] Posted on 05.07.06 in IB, awesomeness, high school
After I got home from church today, I got this message from my favorite Colombian:
Vie Bizarre: Casey, post your speech from yesterday in your blog
So, because Laura told me to, here’s the speech I gave last night at IB Senior Celebration:
Fellow students, teachers, parents, friends, Mr. McGonegal:
It’s been a crazy four years: sleepless nights, endless lectures, perpetual work, and bottomless cups of coffee. And now we’re growing up, about to venture out into a world where we have to do all of this grown-up stuff: get jobs, pay taxes, … get jobs. It almost seems impossible that these past four years have sneaked up on us so quickly. But, I will remind you that in the time since we entered the hallowed halls of PHUHS, so much has happened that we may have once deemed impossible. The Buccaneers won the Super Bowl, the Red Sox won the World Series, J-Lo and Ben broke up. So, maybe our progression into a big people school was inevitable.
But still, we’re all human. And humans will remember. Humans will reminisce. Humans will think back on the years we’ve spent roaming the hallways of PHU and remember them fondly. What will you remember? Will you remember how no matter where you sat, Señora Gleason feng suied you without fail? Will you remember Mr. Valdez’s unhealthy obsession with Julia Roberts? Or maybe it’ll be the way Pete Just would keep his desk absolutely barren (like his head).
Personally, I’ll remember all of the stuff I didn’t quite understand. Like matrices (sorry, Math Department…). Like who actually killed William Robinson. Like Mr. Coffman’s grading system. And like how in the world I am expected to eat a whole elephant.
To the parents here tonight: thank you for supporting your child through these last four years. Without your support, they wouldn’t be here. And if they weren’t here, I would have no friends. So, thank you. I’m sure they’ll thank you too, as it’ll make college that much easier. That is, they’ll thank you right after they get done screaming, “WHY?! WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME!?”
To the faculty and staff here tonight: Henceforth, you will be referred to as officers, Mr. Burkett and Ms. Lowry as marshals, and Dr. Brown as warden. You run a tight ship (especially you, Mrs. Kolhoff), but in the end we know that it’s for our betterment. Palm Harbor is the single best place we could be spending our young and malleable years. Thank you for training us to be responsible young people. And while I use the word “responsible” loosely, I’m sure that you know how much you have impacted our lives.
And finally, to the 40% of you who are NOT going to UF: It’s been a pleasure to have known you. I speak on behalf of everyone who is moving two and a half hours up the Interstate (two if you drive like we do) when I say that we will miss you dearly. The bonds we have formed on this campus are too strong to break, so make sure you keep in touch with us, wherever you go. And yes, that does mean “Facebook me!”
Folks, this is so surreal. Unlike the bouncy-bouncy of the moon landings and the chippy-chippy of the Great Pyramids, this is actually happening. You see the movie Grease and you think that a Danny Zuko-like graduation will never happen to you. But, short of a magic red convertible flying into the sky, it’s here. And it’s happening. Now we know that what once seemed so impossible, so far off in the distance, is truly possible. Now, it’s up to us to make the best of our own futures.
Thank you, Palm Harbor University High School. And thank you, everyone. We’re all in this together.
See you in Gainesville!
[ 1 Comment ] Posted on 02.24.06 in funny stories, high school
Getting up at 5 A.M. daily can take its toll.
Take for example when I walked out to my car this morning. I thought it was a bit drafty. I looked down. I had forgotten to put on a shirt. I said to myself, “Self, you should probably go put on a shirt.”
I sat in my car for three minutes trying to regain the energy to walk back inside.
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 01.13.06 in high school
So, waking up before the sun’s alarm clock goes off and seeing a computer in dire need of a reformat you know won’t happen until the end of the week sort of sucks.
And this is for any teachers to whom I’ve had to turn in double-spaced papers since Tuesday: sorry for the ghetto fabulous paragraph formatting. All I had was Wordpad and an enter key.