For the sake of continuity with my blog’s theme of exclusively writing in list format, here’s my reflection on this research project + senior year in bullet points. 

First off, the two (2) most important things I’ve learned from this project:

• Being open to new ideas! 
  • Obviously, learning about diverse voices helps to expand your understanding of the world and consequently, your sense of global ctizienship. However, through this project, I was able to better understand precisely why this phenomen happens. For instance, using The Namesake as an example, Gogol only learned to be more accepting of his given name after he heard about the cultural history of his name through his father’s perspective. By empathizing the experiences that his father endured, Gogol was inspired to embrace his cultural identity by the end of the novel. Through understanding different aspects of humanity, we are able to be more accepting of not only others, but of ourselves as well.
• It’s totally OK to lose sight of your cultural identity once in a while
  • Okay yeah, it’s definitely ideal for you to always be unyieldingly proud of your identity, but it’s certainly an unrealistic expectation to have, especially in this day and age. In straying, you’re able to develop a deeper understanding of the culture that you’ve deviated from when you gradually come back. Temporarily losing parts of yourself is inevitable, but it is the process of returning that ultimately makes you stronger in the end.

One (1) thing I hope you, darling reader, learned from this project: 

• Acceptance! 
  • In other words, welcome the voices of people who come from different backgrounds than you do. Loss of identity is a universal experience, but with nuances for each individual. Everyone has their own story to tell, and hearing others’ stories can help with understanding your own. 

^^ Link to my video project!

Three (3) things I’ve learned during my time at NNHS:

• About myself: I am – and probably always will be – a mess, and I promise I don’t mean that in a self-deprecating way. Every birthday, I’ll look back on the past 12 months and think that I’ve finally got everything figured out. And every year, I’ve proven myself wrong – there’s always so much more to learn about myself and the world. 
• About the community: It can genuinely be so so supportive. Looking back to the protest we had during the first week of school, I think it set precedence for the rest of the year in the best way possible. If you’re talking, people are willing to listen.
• About the world: It can be a kind place, sometimes – there’s still hope in humanity (mostly)!

My one (1) golden rule for surviving – and thriving – senior year: 

• Go for it! 
  • Nothing matters as much as you think it will. Choices will either turn into happy memories or nostalgic sighs of embarrassment, and what’s life without a few good embarrassing moments to look back on? Every risky decision that I’ve made this past year has ultimately manifested itself into something (mostly) positive, even the ones that I initially thought I’d end up regretting. Senior year, anything goes!

I’m not much for writing diary-like blogs because I’m rather attached to my impersonal writing style, but I thought I’d switch it up this week and share a little recap of my Saturday. TLDR: a 13-hour badminton tournament. 

6:00am: Was probably a little too curt in asking my Echo Dot to shut off the alarm – sorry Alexa!

6:30am: One of my teammates picked me up and we drove over to the Dunkin’ Donuts on Ogden as per our usual pre-Saturday-tournament tradition: a small vanilla iced latte & hash browns. As luck would have it, we just so happened to hit every single red light within the 1.3-mile vicinity.

6:57am: Arrived at North – theoretically early, but technically 7 minutes late, since our Remind message had told us to get there by 6:50am sharp – oops. 

7:00am: By some miracle, everyone on the team made it onto the bus on time – a first, and undoubtedly also a last – and we embark on our 57-minute bus ride to New Trier.

7:51am: We enter New Trier territory, oohing and ahing at the enormous mansions lining the streets of downtown Winnetka. 

8:00am: A 10-minute self-guided tour of the school, since the security guard (!!) at the school’s entrance mislead us in telling us where the gyms were located.

8:11am: We arrive at the gym, which is marginally smaller than we expected. A team field trip to the bathroom ends in widespread disappointment – it’s small and dinky, a stark contrast from the rest of the school. 

8:44am: The New Trier badminton coach starts explaining the rules of the tournament. The moment he opens with “This tournament will be nothing like any other tournament you’ve ever been to”, everyone on the team exchanges knowing glances with each other. Even after his 21-minute spiel, still absolutely no one – including the coaches – understands how the tournament works. 

9:07am: Our first round of games begins. Meanwhile, our coach goes to talk to the Evil Orchestrator (aka, New Trier coach) to see if she can figure out what’s going on.

9:53am: We finish our first games, and our coach fills us in on the tournament details. As a conglomeration of round-robins, single-eliminations, and pools, the tournament is unfathomably disorganized. Our coach joking predicts that, at the rate games have been going, we won’t be back in Naperville until 6pm. We all casually laugh it off. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t a joke.

12:18pm: Three rounds in, and at least four more to go. Everyone on the team is hunched over their phones, frantically cancelling any plans we had made for the afternoon. 

2:34pm: We move to another gym within the school, this one somehow even stuffier than the last one. As a saving grace, we find a hallway with windows that have been cracked slightly open. The whole team files out to relish the tiny slivers of fresh air; we sit there for at least half an hour, complaining about the rapidly deteriorating status of our Saturday. 

3:13pm: Even more games. We’re practically running on fumes. 

6:04pm: At this point, the only teams left in the gym are the two who have qualified for the championship round: us and A-School-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Even the New Trier team – the host school – has left. 

6:46pm: The championship round ends, and we (finally) say goodbye to the Evil Orchestrator, putting up a facade of amicability while internalizing cursing him for stealing away the past twelve hours of our lives. 

6:57pm: We climb aboard our bus and profusely apologize to our bus driver for the tournament ending an extra five hours later than anticipated. We sincerely hope he gets paid hourly wages and not per trip. 

7:01pm: Driving back past the fancy real estate, catching glimpses of Lake Michigan through the windows of the houses. We beg our coach to let us stop by the beach, even if it’s for just a second.

7:06pm: The bus turns down a gravel path that leads down to the beach. Everyone shrieks out of joy, and we all book it to the shoreline the second we’re parked. The happiest 22 minutes of my life.

8:34pm: As we pull back into North, our rendition of the Fight Song is undeniably lackluster, a direct reflection of how burnt out the past thirteen hours have left us. We share one last team hug, and after having spent a borderline unhealthy amount of time together, part ways for the night. 

 

Confession: My name may not be Liesel Meminger, but I am in fact a book thief.

Scattered around my neighborhood are tiny little mailbox-looking bookshelves, appropriately named Little Free Libraries. Whenever I’m going for a run (or even for a drive), I make it a point to stop and see what exciting books I can find if I happen to pass one by. Much like with thrifting and relationships, the key to finding a good one is to go in with no expectations; if you have a specific book title in mind, you’ll only end up being disappointed at the end. 

Though the premise of these libraries is to leave a book in order to take a book, I’ve made the educated guess that the people who frequent these libraries aren’t absolutely dying to read my battered copy of The Things They Carried. So, in most cases, I’ll just partake in the take-a-book part. Sue me. 

With that being said, here’s a (growing!) list of books that I’ve stolen – sorry, I meant to say borrowed – from Little Free Libraries:

Paper Towns by John Green: I was absolutely obsessed with this book when I was in middle school, and I mean obsessed – I even kept a journal with cross-hatched writing just because Margo Roth Spiegelman did, even though my handwriting was already atrociously illegible even before the crossing over part. Whether it’s for better or for worse, I can’t wait to reread the book and be whisked back into the brain of my seventh-grade self. 

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner: Okay, I didn’t actually take this book because I knew that there would be little kids in my neighborhood who would genuinely enjoy it, but I did heavily consider it. This series had a firm grip on me as a child, and I – very insensitively – was immensely envious of these 4 orphaned children who lived in a raggedly little boxcar together.

Girl Talk by Jen Hatmaker: I picked this book up because I thought it’d be ironically funny, but I read the summary on the back and I- yeah okay, I don’t plan on reading it anytime soon. This one is going back into a local Library, so if you’re ever in my neighborhood, feel free to go on a witchhunt to find it. 

Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney: To date, this is my biggest steal in Little-Free-Library-book-hunting history. It’s one of the few 5-star books in my Goodreads ratings, which says a lot because I’m a critical hag. However, since I had already read the book just a few weeks before I found it in the Library, I ended up giving it to a friend, who also said they really enjoyed it.

These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder: In elementary school, I owned the complete set of the Little House on the Prairie books, the ones with the pastel-colored gingham spines. Though I probably won’t ever reread the entire 9-part series in full, I’m excited to read this book to live vicariously through Laura’s life for one last sense of closure.

Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond: Even though this book had been on my TBR for at least a couple of months before I coincidentally stumbled across it during one of my many Little Free Library visits, it’s still sitting untouched on my nightstand to this day. Oops. 

The Very Quiet Cricket by Eric Carle: I snagged this book as part of a scavenger hunt for badminton, and of the 17 things my group and I stole from the surrounding Naperville Downtown area (traffic cones, marking flags, you get the gist), this one was the least felon-like. Though this was a children’s book, I did in fact end up skimming it and even returned it back to its rightful home after the scavenger hunt was over. (Yes, my group and I did end up winning 🤑)

I hope you enjoyed this thieving recap of mine – this blog better not be used against me in court.

Hot take: AP Lunch is real, but not in the gross AP Bio / Chem way; it’s when your lunch period consists of a solid group of people that you can look forward to (and genuinely enjoy) having lunch with every single day, and fortunately for me, I’ve had the luck of having AP Lunch every single semester in my high school career. With that being said, here’s a review of all of the lunch tables I’ve had the pleasure of being a part of in the past four years.

*I genuinely think I have some form of undiagnosed memory loss, so most of these lunch table commentaries were painstakingly pieced together through old photos and suppressed memories. However, I refuse to take accountability for any misinformation I may be spreading through this blog.

**Yes, this photo could technically be depicting an activity that isn’t necessarily in accordance to the Illinois Rules of the Road. However, rest assured that the vehicle was completely, utterly, 100% stationary. I repeat, this photo was NOT taken in a moving car. Hahah…

Freshman Year, Semester 1:
I have absolutely no recollection of this lunch table, save for a few shaky videos that I had to unearth from the very depths of my Google Photos. In all honesty, I only faintly remember two other people that were part of this table, though I’m sure there’s more who just didn’t get any screen time. To be fair, this was a very sporadic semester since we were all gone on varying days to endure the glory of #LinkCrew; also, because I’ve completely repressed any and all notions of my time in the 10th Circle of Hell that is known as freshman year.

Freshman Year, Semester 2:
There is only one word (okay, technically two) I can use to describe this table: absolutely iconic. Although we were made up of a seemingly unpredictable combination of people, those 51 minutes we spent together in the Learning Commons every day somehow always consisted of the best times: filming crappy pixelated vlogs on our phones, enjoying potluck picnics out in the courtyard, fostering our early-onset addictions to TikTok (and learning the dances, of course). This table undoubtedly catalyzed an arc of character growth for me, and will always hold a special place in my heart. 

To those of you ex-lunch-mates who may be reading this right now, here is my (hundredth) formal apology for skimping on that hangout.

Sophomore Year, Semester 1:
To be honest, I have very depthless memories of this table. In general, sophomore year was just such a whirlwind of chaos in which lunch periods easily got lost, but I do remember that this was a super chill lunch table. Also, that one time someone brought an entire 9” blueberry pie from Jewel Osco and we all dug into it with just our forks <33 

Sophomore Year, Semester 2:
I also can’t remember a single detail of this table, but in my defense, it did only last for a solid 2 months before our lovely “two-week break” hit. I do vividly remember doing lots of online shopping during our lunch period, and duh, the unbridled excitement of Crew 2 that semester though! <33

Junior Year, Semester 1 & 2:
This was just my parents, so an obligatory 10/10. Or, in full transparency, I had 6th period lunch both semesters, which was scheduled for a quintessential 7:30am in the morning; so, in reality, I just spent my lunch periods being rudely awakened by the blaring alarm sounds just 2 minutes before my second-period class started. 

Senior Year, Semester 1:
I would 100% rank this in my Top 3 of my high school lunch tables. There were such exhilarating (but undoubtedly stressful) memories of speeding back to school after our off-campus lunches, when we would make the awful, last-minute decision to go someplace far away: debating on whether we should just leave the restaurant without our food, practically spoon-feeding our getaway driver as we sped back to school, and dashing up the stairs of the Athletic Entrance to make sure we wouldn’t be late for our *actually very important* tests the next period. Oh, and our steadfast efforts to convert every single person we knew into becoming school lunch fanatics. Love you Aramark!!

Senior Year, Semester 2:
As another unequivocal Top 3 moment, this table is one that I’ll genuinely miss lunch-ing with after we graduate: the 51-minute periods of brainstorming schemes for Senior Assassins, the trashed lids of 25 cent plastic cups from the Half Caf, and daily trips to the industrial-sized Ken’s ranch dispenser in the Large Cafe… also, when are we doing the lil Sonic Challenge??

As Lady Bird once famously declared, “I want to go where culture is”, and I’m sure that as high school seniors, a lot—if not all—of us have adopted a similar sentiment. Yet, regardless of where we end up after graduation, I’m a firm believer that culture can flourish anywhere; with that being said, I’ve decided to gift you all with a free 15-item preview to my very own Culture Starter Kit™, which consists of a complete list of media that you absolutely have to be versed in to be considered cultured, no matter where you are in the world. 

**Yes, many of these are basic but sometimes, that’s precisely what culture is. And yes, this is a pretty accurate depiction of the debris that is floating around in my brain at any given time. 

5 films—aka a sophisticated way of saying movies—to watch on Netflix or illegally stream from undisclosed websites:

• Mean Girls: Need I say more? If you haven’t yet watched it, I’m not sure if you even deserve a redemption arc in becoming cultured. 

• 10 Things I Hate About You: In all honesty, I kind of despise the enemies-to-lovers trope, but this movie makes for such a good comfort movie that I graciously let it slide for the 97 minutes worth of cinematic masterpiece.

• The Queen’s Gambit: SO GOOD. The plot, the cinematography, the 50’s and 60’s-inspired style … It’ll make you want to pick up chess as a hobby, I promise.

• The Half of It: I loved that this movie didn’t baby the viewers with the perfect happily-ever-after ending; instead, it disguises layers upon layers of complexity with a seemingly simple plot. Also the cinematography? 10/10.

• Lady Bird (duh): This is one of my favorite movies of all time, and it’s eerily relatable for us high school seniors: the eager anticipation of ceremonially turning your tassel to the left, the ever-growing looming threat of college, and inevitable growing tension in the relationship with your parents. Step away from my blog and watch it. Right now. 

4 pieces of literature to add to your TBR on Goodreads:

• Little Fires Everywhere: This book leaves you with so many subtle but nuanced lessons to consider, while still managing to be entertaining. Celeste Ng does a fantastic job of portraying her characters in a three-dimensional and realistic (though perhaps not likable) manner. Once you’ve finished reading this, check out its corresponding show on Hulu – it’s one of the most accurate book adaptations I’ve seen.

• Six of Crows: My pea-sized brain is too small to comprehend the elaborate world-building in most fantasy books—particularly when they start extending past trilogies into a capitalism-driven 10-part series—but this one is only a duology and I can make out at least some semblance of its universe. Kind of. 

• Any rom-com type book: You know the type—Canva-inspired graphic characters, bright colors, and cute font parading across the cover. Pick your poison, I won’t judge.

• Also, the non-boring classics: Gone With The Wind, The Book Thief, and dare I say, The Great Gatsby.

3 more mindless media to commit to memory:

• Keeping Up With The Kardashian: Just know the general gist of their dynamic – be able to name all 5 sisters & girlboss entrepreneur Kris Jenner.

• Mike’s Mic Pretty Little Liars recaps: Never in your life will there be another six hours better spent.

• This hyperlinked video: A treat for musical prodigies and washed-up band kids alike.

2 memes that were an absolute cultural reset:

• “Are you new here?” *stank face* (via TikTok!!)

• Jimmy Neutron, high-waisted jeans: I think it might actually have been my test post if you scroll back far enough on my blog.

1 item to add to (and cross off) your bucket list:

• Trying school lunch: I will die on this hill. The nachos are always a safe bet, but I’ve heard the pre-packaged burgers receive glowing reviews as well. 

You’ve reached the end of your free trial! If you’re looking for more tips on becoming cultured, I’m offering the full premium subscription for the low low price of your sanity – Venmo me <33

In the sea of desks
There is talk of bags and games
And long pipes that leak dreams with a strike of a match

And there’s a loudness to the whispers I hear
Whispers shouldn’t be that loud, should they?

There’s a girl over there who everyone knows
And men without ears who will stand by the door for a price

And long hallways; there are angry mobs of dwarves
and rats
and one single angel.

~ Anonymous

Josh Boone’s movie Stuck in Love follows three main characters of varying ages and backgrounds through their journeys with love, from adolescent affection to rekindled romance. Yet, perhaps one of the most dynamic plotlines features Rusty Borgens, a 16 year old teenager, and his experience with finding love at a young age. As the average high school student, Rusty feels as if he is stuck within the endlessly spinning hamster wheel of high school, effectively conveying his feelings when he recites a poem he wrote in front of his English class. Albeit short, Rusty’s poem clearly reflects his nuanced outlook on high school, specifically in highlighting the internalized emotions of being lonely, lost, and misunderstood. 

To begin, the opening line of “In the sea of desks” makes it evident that the poem is setting up the scene of a typical high school classroom (1). By comparing the alignment of the desks to that of a “sea”, the poem is drawing a connection between this classroom and the turbulent bodies of water. Seas often are perceived as undoubtedly beautiful expanses of nature that are simultaneously deceivingly dangerous. In alluding to this high school classroom being comparable to that of a sea, the narrator suggests that the students feel as if they are drowning within these four walls, immediately establishing the negative connotation associated with school. Just within this first line, the poem is shedding light upon the typical toxic environment of high school, where students often feel as if they are constantly being swallowed up by the billowing wave of high school, whether it be from academic stress, athletic pressure, or social conflicts. 

In the second line, the narrator continues to expand upon their perspective of high school. The description of “bags and games” (2) points out the convoluted nature of high school, where there is an unwritten but widely-accepted set of rules that must be followed in order to survive; in many ways, navigating high school is much like playing a game in trying to balance the last few years of carefree adolescence with the cautious preparation for the future. 

Next, the third line of “long pipes that leak dreams with a strike of a match” is an unmistakable reference to smoking, particularly the kind that is commonly attributed to high school students (3). The “long pipes” are depictions of bongs, through which the smoke—or leaking dreams—is incited by the “strike of a match”. The dreams can also serve as symbolism for the buzz of smoking, the sense of tranquility and relaxation during which people are more likely to reveal their hopes and desires. While smoking, the high school students in the poem are casually talking about their visions for the future, the palpable smoke and intangible dreams intertwining into a singular euphoric cloud within the air. On a more analytical level, the leaking of dreams could also serve as a commentary on the harmful effects of smoking, where damaged lungs and clogged arteries can prevent one from making their dreams come true. This line is a reminder that the tiniest action can snowball into something grand, similar to how a singular match can lead to a lifetime of health issues. Particularly in high school, every little decision that students face seems like an ultimatum, a potential catalyst for changing the entire trajectory of one’s life. 

In the second stanza, the narrator turns the focus of the poem back onto themself. The “loudness to the whispers [they] hear” refers to the voices inside their head, particularly the hisses of self-doubts (4). As high school students, everyone is trying their absolute best to figure their lives out, about what they want to do and who they want to be in the future. Although this type of uncertainty is prevalent throughout everyone’s lifetimes, the narrator is asserting that these voices in their head are amplified in high school, since there is so much pressure to find that one, unyieldingly correct answer. 

Then, the narrator goes on to question their personal thoughts from the previous line: “Whispers shouldn’t be that loud, should they” (5)? When the narrator takes a little too long to think about the voices in their head, the confusion they are dealing with is increasingly intensified. This stanza of the poem highlights the sense of loneliness that students feel in high school, where they feel as if they are the only ones experiencing these thoughts of unease and worry. While the rhetorical question posed in this second line indicates that the narrator knows deep down that they are not alone in these feelings, they still continue to feel isolated from others. Specifically, this stanza is also a reference to the Duck Syndrome: all ducks seem to be gliding smoothly from the surface, but in actuality, they are all paddling ruthlessly beneath the water. Similarly, high school students try their best to make it seem as if they are swimming along effortlessly, but are truly struggling and desperately trying not to drown. 

In the third stanza, the narrator highlights a specific situation typical to high schools when asserting “There’s a girl over there who everyone knows” (6). In not specifying precisely why everyone knows about this girl, the author allows for personal interpretation, whether it be due to her popularity status or for infamous rumors. Regardless, the usage of “over there” creates a sense of distance between the girl and the narrator, which serves to not only establish the hierarchical contrast between the two but also to create an emotional distance; though everyone in the school knows of the girl, no one seems to truly know who she is as a person since others only see what she portrays. The girl is an object of interest to many in the school for various reasons, but deep down is—like everyone else—fighting her own battles. 

In conjunction with the narrator’s discussion of the girl in the previous line, “men without ears who will stand by the door for a price” is another reference to the nature of high school students and the way they act (7). The “men without ears” establishes the idea that people tend to only listen to respond rather than listen to understand; similarly, in the case of the girl, the other students choose only to perceive her how they wish they to, rather than taking the time to get to know her on a personal level. Particularly, in standing by the door to hear more about the gossip revolving around the girl, the men are refusing to take a step inside her world but will do just about anything to hear about her life. 

In the final stanza, the poem does another callback to the initial scene of high school, where the poem once again zooms out to encapsulate the entire high school scene again. The mention of “long hallways” creates an image of walking down a seemingly endless hallway, the illusion that high school may seem as if it will drag on forever (8). Within these hallways, the reference to “angry mobs of dwarves” exemplifies the students as seemingly insignificant (8). Though these are real people with real problems in high school, in the grander scheme of things, and in the real world, the students are nothing more than just students. As an extension to the initial usage of dwarves, the author continues to shine a negative light on the students in this high school by comparing them to rats (9), which are often considered pesky and symbolic of bad luck. Much like rats, high school students can often be perceived as annoying, particularly due to their blase nature. 

Finally, the author caps off the list of negative descriptions with a complete reversal: a “single angel” (10). For one, this could serve as a reference to the girl from the earlier stanza, but regardless, it is evident that this poem is highlighting how this one specific character stands out from the rest of the crowd. Particularly in comparison to the other dwarves and rats, this one angel radiates a completely different aura than everyone else. Due to this ending line, it is now evident that this poem is a love poem, where this one person makes the rest of high school feel slightly more bearable. 

As a whole, this poem is one that highlights the high school experience: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Having been anonymously written, this poem conveys the idea that the high school experience is universal, not just specific to the narrator: everyone is struggling and just trying their best to make it through their high school years to gradually discover who they are.

A list of 22 things that I want my 2022 to feel like:

1. Feels Like by Gracie Abrams: This is probably the best song to ever exist— it so perfectly captures the whimsical beauty of friendship, going on spontaneous adventures, and the feeling of deja vu-type happiness where you know that you’ll look back at this very moment in time. 

2. Spring rain on a Sunday afternoon, the kind of which you can hear the drops pelting the window panes but not quite distractingly loud: A nearly tangible feeling of finality and closure, but also a slight hint towards new beginnings. 

3. The last day of school just before a break, especially back in middle school when finals didn’t exist: Knowing that it’ll be a chill school day of cheesy movies, family-sized snacks, and the underlying buzzing of anticipation of the break that’s about to ensue.

4. Feel So Close – Radio Edit by Calvin Harris: This song is just good vibes all around, need I say more?

5. Weekend brunch: Cute cafes & good company? Count me in.

6. The number 22: Call me a nerd, but 22 is such a pristine semiprime.

7. Succulents, or cactus in general: Low maintenance, but inarguably cute. I have a horrible track record with keeping plants alive—even when they’re ones as low maintenance as succulents—but the fake ones from the Dollar (25) Tree are a fantastic option for plant slaughterers like me.

8. Concerts of indie artists, the ones that aren’t too wildly popular but still have a solid fan base: Screaming the lyrics to their songs in a space in which every single person there loves them just as much as you do. Also, knowing that when they inevitably become famous 2 years from now, you’ll be able to flex that you knew them before they blew up.

9. The color green, particularly forest and sage: Green is such a tranquil color, with undertones of loyalty and trust. In general, green has never been representative of anything even remotely negative, except for maybe the neon hue commonly associated with the stripes on those iconic Under Armour joggers.

10. Pillsbury ready-to-bake sugar cookies, the ones w/ the cute printed designs: Simple, but so so good.

11. Finding out that one of your favorite books is getting a film adaptation: Manifesting that it’ll somehow turn out exactly how you pictured it to be in your mind.

12. The way the night sky seems lighter after a snowstorm: This might just be a placebo effect on my part, but I’ve always thought that in the wintertime, the sky turns a comforting gray-ish color rather than the typical dark blue/black. 

13. Hearing a really good song for the first time, and knowing that you’ll have it on repeat for the next 3 hours: Hitting that repeat-symbol-with-the-number-1 on Spotify.

14. That first sip of iced coffee: The exhilarating rush of caffeine coursing through your veins.

15. Gingko leaves: I haven’t come across one of these in ages, but I have such vivid memories of seeing them strewn across the dewy grounds as I was waiting for the #morningbus in third grade.

16. 10 minutes left on the timer for the homemade apple pie baking in the oven: The scent of apples and cinnamon wafting through your house.

17. Classrooms with dim light, especially at the end of the school day: There’s something so satisfying about the muted darkness, openly welcoming the onset feelings of drowsiness. 

18. A fresh jar of peanut butter, the kind without the oil on top: I’m not a huge fan of peanut butter but there is something undeniably satisfying about opening a new jar.

19. That arbitrary Target visit someday in November, right when the Christmas-themed items hit the shelves: You never know exactly when this will be, but there’s an unparalleled excitement of walking in and seeing the Christmas decor in the ~ holiday section ~.

20. Pomp & Circumstance: Self-explanatory.

21. School ranch: I feel like I’ll get severely judged for this take so I won’t elaborate. But I said what I said.

22. Nostalgia: All of it, of any kind.

     

    

Rig·or Mor·tis Bend (noun):
The last turn of the track during a 400-meter race where the finish line comes into view, the moment during which your body seizes up and your lungs begin to gasp for air. In other words, the homestretch.

Before we begin, here’s a delicious playlist to set the mood for this blog. I was going to hit y’all with the super tear-jerking, nostalgia-inducing music but I decided against it- this is a slightly happier one. Not to toot my own horn, but I would say that this mix of bittersweet nostalgia with stereotypical, carefree and upbeat teenage-esque songs is the perfect encapsulation of senior year.

Now, about senior year. I’ll admit, my primary takeaway from this first semester isn’t thought-provokingly profound nor elegantly introspective; rather, it’s this:

Carpe diem. C’est la vie. And, continuing with this trend I’ve set of spewing mottos in beautiful languages, YOLO.

As an almost-second-semester senior, I’ve come to the realization that nothing is as important as you initially anticipate it being. I mean, yeah, strive for good grades, cultivate your friendships, write and (feverishly) rewrite your college essays, do your best in whatever you put your mind to. But just know that no matter what happens, everything will work itself out in the end. I promise. 

B’s (or lower) on your transcript won’t ruin your life. College rejections are (truly!!) blessings in disguise. Breakups aren’t the end of the world (honestly, they’re probably for the better). High school will come and go, don’t overthink it; as with everything, there’ll simultaneously be both good and bad parts.  

First, the bad parts. Here’s a list of arguably not-super-fun things associated with these past four years that you’ll (thankfully) probably never have to experience again after you graduate: (Not to jinx it though!)

• Being unjustly dress-coded for wearing a not-even-that-cropped crop top (one of my friends once got dress-coded for not zipping her quarter-zip-pullover all the way up to her chin)

• Aggressively being jostled around while trying to make your way to class in the crowded hallways (PSA: you are to stay to the right of the hallways. This is absolutely nonnegotiable.)

• Frantically texting your parents to call you out of your fifth period Econ class because you didn’t prepare enough for the test (this isn’t throwing shade- I’m sure 99.97% of y’all have done this before)

• The infamous after-school parking lot traffic (if you have the patience to sit through that, hats off to you; I truly believe you have the power to do anything you put your mind to)

Now, the good parts. There’s also a whole bunch of objectively exciting parts of high school that you’ll probably think fondly back to after you leave the four walls of this building:

• Having an abundance of assigned-seating-chart friends (the ones that you’ll always talk to in school but will probably never reach the point of closeness of being able to carefreely communicate with each other beyond the times of 7:45am – 3:10pm)

• Collective hatred for gym class as a foolproof bonding moment with complete strangers <3 (except for Strength&Performance, which has somehow breeded a literal cult of weight-lifting fanatics??)

• Sprinting back into the school after leaving campus for lunch, with 40 seconds to spare before the final bell rings (50 minutes seems like a lot of time until you’re speeding down Ogden at 1:16pm in hopes of being on time for your seventh period class)

• The gossip, don’t lie! 

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that you’ll inevitably have at least some memories associated with high school. In this last year, why not try to make the most of it? Create memories- these are the ones you’ll remember 5 years from now, instead of spending late nights futilely cramming for your Calculus test the next morning.

Here’s my rule of thumb: do what you want to do, but also do what you don’t want to do. As the multinational-apparel-corporation Nike so eloquently states, just do it.

Things that you 100% have to do, and probably (hopefully!) already plan on doing in your senior year:

• Scream UCLA by RL Grimes at the top of your lungs in the Dawg Pound at the football games

• Dance in silly little costumes and lip-sync to the greatest memes of our generation with your best friends in Airband

• Obsessively stalk other members of the senior class and risk being reported to the Naperville Police Department for trespassing for Senior Assassins

• And this, this one is important: tell your crush that you like them (this mostly only applies if they also attend North)

  • Listen, this is your chance. In less than 6 months, you can make the choice to never have to see them again. Shoot your shot!!

But, even more than that, do the unexpected/little/random things too: (And do these all without fear of judgment! Senior year has taught me that – and I mean this in the nicest way possible – people genuinely don’t care about you as much as they think you do; everyone’s trying to live their own life, they don’t have time to judge how you live yours.)

• Participate in Spirit Days: Groutfits have always been socially acceptable, but they’ve been especially destigmatized for seniors. Reap the benefits of this privilege.

• Go to the LatinX Dance: Even if you can’t dance, it’ll be one of the best nights of your life.

• Get school lunch: Hear me out, it’s free (for the rest of this year, at least) and it (probably??) isn’t entirely lethal. Try it at least once, you (probably??) won’t regret it. Live, laugh, love Aramark.

• Pop your head into random classrooms after school: Join random clubs that you’ve never even heard of before (even if it’s just for a day).

• Sign up for the Couples dance in Orchesis: It’ll be fun, in a simultaneously ironic and unironic way; regardless Tuesday nights in the Dance Room will be a source of endless laughter, sweaty palms, and jerk dancing.

• Spend time with your family, and at home: These are the last few months before you’re confined to moldy dorm rooms, crappy dining hall food, and constant pangs of homesickness.

• ^But, hang out with your friend as well: There will come a moment when you’ll be surrounded by all of them, at once, for the very last time. The second our tassels are moved to the left, everyone will be set on different paths: envy-incuding vacations in Bora Bora, unpaid tedious internships (for the experience & resume-building!!), minimum-wage retail jobs… So, do Secret Santas, go on late-night Target runs, embrace the essence of impulsivity. 

Senior year may be a year of lasts, but it’s not too late to also make it one of many firsts. So, before that highly-anticipated date of May 22nd, do yourself a favor and seize every little chance that’s presented to you. There’s not much to lose, it’ll be over before you know it.

* Okay, I don’t actually know if the Rigor Mortis Bend is a real term (can any runners confirm or deny??), but I first learned about it from The Running Dream by Wendelin Van Draanen (would highly recommend if you’ve never read it before, but keep in mind that the target demographic is like, 12 year olds). Regardless, I thought the phrase would be fitting for the title of this blog.

Given that we are currently in the peak season of gratitude, I’ve decided to do a complete 180 from the spitefulness of my last blog and spotlight the type of people who I believe have a special place waiting for them in heaven (or whatever higher power you believe in, heaven is just an arbitrary umbrella term in this context). In light of being realistic, I’ve split up my list into two categories: people who I have never met in my life (and probably never will), and those who I do know in my own life (some of these could even be me, who knows 😙).

A list of people who I have absolutely zero connection to, but hope to have the opportunity to dearly thank sometime in the future (then again, six degrees of separation!!):

• New York City’s urban planner (or the entire committee, if it was more than one person)

• • New York City is gorgeous for many reasons, but in particular, I love its layout. Every street has been a) named so wonderfully conveniently (like c’mon, the avenues and streets system??) and b) placed perfectly perpendicularly to each other. If you go onto Google Maps and check out the aerial view of Manhattan specifically, you’ll see how beautifully the streets have been lined up. Whoever did the urban planning for this city, you deserve a raise. (Except if you’re also the same person who set up the NYC subway routes because those absolutely suck.)

• Spotify’s founder (I just looked it up and apparently there are co-founders, but whatever – let’s assume that there’s only 1 very comfortable armchair in heaven)

  • No explanation needed for this one: Spotify is amazing; she’s an icon, she’s a legend, and she is the moment. Except, maybe cut back on the ad breaks? I know this is all a marketing scheme to convert everyone into Premium users, but at this point, it’s a little unethical how many ads are being ruthlessly shoved in between each song that I’m listening to. 

• Steve Jobs, or whoever made Airpods

  • I’m not super caught up on the whole timeline of Apple’s business strategy so I have zero idea who actually created Airpods, but what I do know is that whoever it is deserves everything in the world, and more. Apple, if you’re reading this (I know you are), please stop producing new versions- they’re getting unforgivably ugly.

A list of super cool people could could potentially be reading this blog right this moment, complete with alliteration (not to say that Stevie isn’t lurking on my WordPress):

• College-Ruled-Paper Cherishers

  • College ruled paper is 109284082 times better than w*de ruled paper, and that statement is not up for debate. With the 4.3 total lines that w*de ruled paper offers, what can you even feasibly use it for? 20 bucks that a single haiku couldn’t even fit on there. 

• Dark-Green Defendants

  • As a society, we collectively despised the color green for a while in the mid 2010’s; if you were someone who still loved and adamantly stood by green during those times of unwarranted hatred, thank you. You are a trailblazer in allowing everyone to enjoy the gorgeous hues of forest green in today’s day and age. (I’ll also give you credit for the resurgence of sage green, because it’s like, a dark light hue, if that makes sense?)

• Rapid-But-Not-Too-Rapid Responders-Of-Text-Messages

  • Mind you, punctuality in responses is appreciated, but don’t go overboard with it. If you respond too quickly to my text, you’re now paving way for a full-blown, real-time text conversation that I didn’t sign up for. On the other hand, if you wait a solid 3-5 business days before responding to an urgent question of mine, that’s considered a federal crime in my book. Kidding, I’m one of those people that will accidentally forget to respond for weeks on end- I’m working on it, I promise!!

• Hair-Tie Hander-Outers

  • It’s an unspoken but widely accepted fact that once you lend someone a hair tie, you will never, ever, ever, get it back. If you’re someone who still offers hair ties to those who ask for one knowing that it’s gone for good, you are quite possibly one of the coolest people to exist. I truly wish you all the best in life. 

  • Side note: This also applies to the people who actively make an effort to return hair ties that they’ve borrowed from others.

• Geography Geniuses

  • The fact that you can name all 27 (26? Google gave me conflicting answers) countries in the EU off the top of your head and point to exactly where they’re located on an un-outlined map?? Incredible. Instead of counting sheep to fall asleep, you probably spend your nights memorizing every single geographical fact about Tanzania, and I fully support that. I can’t really tell you why I think geographic geniuses are genuinely so cool- maybe because I personally couldn’t even point out where the Atlantic Ocean is.

• Lyric Listeners

  • Okay, this one is rather broad. I don’t mean just anyone who listens to music: I’m talking about music enthusiasts who take the time to actually listen to the lyrics of songs, especially for the slower/sadder ones. If you’re one of those people who go above and beyond to annotate the lyrics of certain songs, I hope you are the recipient of good karma for the rest of your life. 

  • Tangentially, Genius contributors. I have zero comprehension skills, and your little notes on the Genius lyrics websites are absolute life-savers.

• Oxford-Comma Optimists

  • If you use the Oxford comma, you deserve all the rainbows, butterflies, and happiness in the world. That’s all I have to say on this matter.

To conclude this highly politically accurate blog article, this is just a reminder that there are special places in heaven waiting for everyone, not only for those who fall into the above categories outlined by yours truly. Unless, of course, you are an anti Oxford comma user – enjoy your time with Hades in the underworld.

TikTok is good for many things – life hacks, idiosyncratic dances, light-hearted pick-me-ups – but the one purpose that TikTok has attempted (and promptly failed) to serve as is a source of book recommendations. I myself have fallen into the trap of believing that those beautifully-worded quotes are an accurate representation of the books they were extracted from, but I’m here to tell you that they truly don’t. Today, I’ll be expressing my (highly controversial) opinions on four of the most popular TikTok-recommended books, and begging you to never read any of these, for both your sanity and mine. 

*This is just a note that I’m writing these reviews under the assumption that you’ve already heard of these books and know a general gist of their summary.
**I’ll try my absolute best to not include spoilers, but no promises – read at your own risk.

 

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart
My favorite part of this book was how scarily accurate the title is: all of these BookTokers are, in fact, liars for saying that this book was good. For a book that’s often marketed as having one of the best plot twists to ever exist, the plot twist fell short – after just a few chapters in, I could predict exactly what was going to happen at the end, nearly word for word. I’ll admit, the author’s prose wasn’t absolutely horrid. The writing flowed poetically at many parts, frequently creating detailed descriptions of the quaint vacations and envy-inducing friendships that the characters enjoyed. Well, enjoyed would be too generous of a verb. Blinded by their unrelenting surface-level materialistic mindsets, the characters endured, at best, the privileged lifestyles that they led; yet, even by the very last page of the book, exactly zero of them had undergone substantial character development in the entirety of the 256 miserable pages. The plot twist – being not even a real one – was not adequate compensation for the rest of the book.

 

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
Everyone promised me that this book was a tangible form of emotional turmoil, that my first readthrough would result in the last 33 pages of the book having been dampened from shedding uncontrollable tears. Alas, nothing about this book caused me to feel anything at all, except for boredom, an ongoing sense of dread with every flip of the page, and the overwhelming disappointment each time the book once again let me down from my (not-even-that-heightened) expectations. Now, I promise that this isn’t just because I’m an insensitive ***** – I cry at the end of (most) (good) books, which is a category that this specific book, decidedly, cannot be lumped into. The pacing of the novel was a whirlwind of confusion; the author’s writing only truly began to shine during the last half of the book, but even then, each droning page was spent describing a single piece of weaponry or a fleeting millisecond of a scene. By the time the novel ended, the only emotion of mine that I would identify was relief of finally being able to set this book aside and pretend that the past 4.5 hours spent reading weren’t an utter waste of time. 

 

They Both Die At The End by Adam Silvera
As a sharp contrast from We Were Liars, this book did not become TikTok famous for its wow-factor of a plot twist: hence, the title. Yet, even taking into consideration the intentional lack of excitement in the plot, I couldn’t find a single redeeming factor about this book. The characters were perhaps some of the blandest ones I had ever encountered in my entire sixteen years of reading, more one-dimensional than a brown paper bag and drier than Popeye’s buttermilk biscuits. None of them had any growth by the end of the book (though I guess that doesn’t really matter, given the title oops), but the pessimist remained ragingly negative about all things in their life and the optimist stayed staring death right in the face through their rose-colored glasses. The overall premise of the book definitely had a ton of potential, but the author completely obliterated any and all hopes and dreams of it being even remotely decent. 

 

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
“A life no one will remember. A story you will never forget.” This is the first sentence of the Goodreads summary for this book, and as expected, it’s incredibly misleading: the second I closed the cover, I promptly forgot about it. A couple days after finishing the novel, I saw a recommendation for this book and logged onto my Goodreads account to add it to my ‘To Be Read’ list; when I saw that I had already rated it a solid 2 out of 5 stars, I nearly spiraled into a slight existential crisis. Yes, that’s how remarkably forgettable this book was. Though the book does sometimes feature beautifully intricate writing, it is dulled by the plot (if it can even be considered a plot). About one-thirds of the way in, I felt myself subconsciously hoping that I would spontaneously develop some sort of temporary ailment that would allow my fingers to freeze together and take away my physical ability to turn pages, just so I would have a reasonable excuse to not have to finish the book (other than it just being plain boring). The main character has a shockingly monotonous personality for someone that’s been alive for 300+ years, and never once in those three centuries does she experience personal growth. In total, there were approximately 7 words that piqued my interest throughout the story, but the author never built off of it enough for me to stay intrigued. It is not as beautiful of a book that everyone says it is – save your time. 

 

If you’ve made it all the way to the end of this resentful blog, you’re a real one (and perhaps, just as much of a bitter ol’ hag as I am)!! I solemnly swear that I’m not as much of a spiteful person as my reviews just made me seem – I’ll probably write a (much more positive) blog on the TikTok books that I actually did enjoy sometime in the near future, but for now, please please stay away from these aforementioned books.