Columns

“Are you French?”
“No.”
“Are, you, like, a hermaphrodite?”
“Nope.”
“Well, then, what’s up with that forest growing on your legs?”

“Stop complaining; freshmen don’t have homework.”

This was probably the most common phrase said to me during my first year of high school. As a lowly freshman, whenever I heard it, I would just nod my head and keep quiet. I remember my junior and senior friends would get annoyed if I even so much as mentioned having work. Excusing myself early from Robotics to toil over something like a pop-up book in World Geography was unforgivable.

If there is one thing in the world I absolutely cannot get enough of, it’s Harry Potter and everything that has to do with Harry Potter. I don’t mean the Harry Potter character himself—I much prefer Draco Malfoy or the Weasley twins—but the whole franchise itself. However, if there is one flaw in the perfect world of the Harry Potter franchise, it is the movies.

It disappoints me that Microsoft’s spell check does not recognize “fangirl” as a correctly spelled English word. It is the word that my life has revolved around since I discovered the volatility of the Internet in middle school, and it sums up who I am in a neat seven letters.

Almost each class in high school can be categorized in some way. The freshmen are annoying and short, the juniors study 24/7 and the seniors dread college applications. However, one class seems to stand out awkwardly in high school hierarchy. It just so happens that I am part of this class—the sophomore class.

Being a sophomore is, of course, better than being a freshman, especially at rallies. We are no longer helpless fresh meat, victims to the notorious “go home, freshman” chants, and we actually know what to do when it comes time for us to yell our class cheer.

Like many other high school students, I don’t get around to starting my homework until after 10 p.m. However, the majority of these students spend their after-school hours procrastinating; online gaming, Facebooking, or simply staring at the huge pile of homework in front of you and willing it to complete itself. However, this is about as far from my situation as you can get.

Forget about being part of Generation X, Y, or Z. What this generation of kids should really be called is the E-Generation. Look around while eating in a restaurant, and you’ll see that this is true. Instead of sharing stories about their day, which is how dinner should be, teenagers text their friends incessantly, toddlers play games on iTouches, and parents check their Blackberrys for new e-mails. With the wave of new technology and gadgets, people of all ages, one by one, have forgotten how life used to be before all the electronics. Remember when the word “text” meant the wording in a printed document, and iPods didn’t even exist? Most people my age can’t.

With countless ways to communicate, kids these days have forgotten the most simple way to talk to each other: face to face. Even calling has become an ancient form of communication. When I want to discuss a difficult math problem or ask you a question that I believe would be too awkward in person, I’ll just shoot you a text or chat with you. Kids just a generation ago didn’t have this luxury, and for the better, I believe. In the long term, how will communicating solely through the argot of typing on a keypad benefit us?

A few months ago, I was talking to a friend about pop culture when she brought up the subject of animated movies.

“Oh,” I said rather dumbly. “I’ve never seen a Disney movie before.”

Roughly six months ago when the major league baseball season started, I boldly predicted that this year the Giants were going to the World Series. After hearing that prediction, many of my friends immediately referred to me as a “fool.” Fast forward six months through the season and into the depths of postseason baseball, and only two teams remain in contention for the title of World Series Champions. Yes, one of those teams is the Giants, and no, I am no longer considered a fool.