What do you think would happen if a famous mainstream musician like Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, or Usher walked onto the Saratoga High campus? There would be complete and utter pandemonium. There is a chance that one student might even be seriously injured, getting run over by the massive hoard of crazy fans. I think that this is more or less indisputable.
Some of the greatest acts of recycling can be found in the business of movie making. For a fraction of the work, producers can manipulate an old storyline into many sequels, or even more easily, reintroduce a classic movie to theaters in 3D. I have often ignored horrible sequels, comforting myself with the thought that the good originals still existed, but, alas, when one of my favorite movies had been tampered with, I could no longer avert my eyes.
This past summer, I studied at Stanford for three weeks. I took a psychology class and lived on-campus in a beautiful house with 26 other students and four counselors. It was something that, a few years ago, when I was crippled by shyness and a general social awkwardness, I would never have been able to do. But this was something new and exciting for me.
I am not used to going unheard. In fact, many people (my mother included) find it impossible to tune me out at times. I’ll confess—I’ve probably been the loudest, most obnoxious person to ever inhabit this campus (save for James Knight, perhaps). However, for some strange reason, every Tuesday and Thursday, I feel completely silent.
This is going to be free of spoilers, so if you haven’t read the series and have somehow managed the impossible task of steering clear of Potter spoilers for 14 years, feel free to continue reading. (But um, what are you doing with your life? Drop the APUSH! Burn the Bio! Potter is more important!)
“Track is boring. Track is just people running. Track takes no skill.” These are the ideas that people often express to me about my favorite sport. And they couldn’t be more wrong.
“I AM a senior.” I had some trouble rolling my tongue around these words on the first day of school, as I could hardly believe they told the truth. Most students wait three years of high school to reach this point in their lives, but I’ve looked forward to this moment since I was 4 years old.
“Can I borrow a piece of binder paper?”
“Will you give it back?”
I cannot count the number of times that I have had this conversation—only to point out that the asker wants to keep my binder paper. This problem may sound petty, but when it happens continuously, it becomes frustrating. Soon I hear people asking to “borrow” mechanical pencil lead and some have even gone so far as asking to “borrow” gum.
In the days before technology, people amused themselves with writing. They read books, wrote letters, played games and took walks—all of which now sound completely alien to me as I vegetate in front of my computer screen, waiting for my next show to download online.