I know, along with every senior in my class, exactly how many days there are until our May 21 graduation, yet it feels as if senior year started only last week, and that it was only a handful of months ago that I was a terrified thirteen year old opening the door to my first year at Stevenson: a new dorm room, waiting to for me to string up my Christmas lights, scatter clothes all over, and a new roommate, who would tape a Twilight poster to the front of our door, lend me nail polish from her impressively expansive collection, and formulate plans for the zombie apocalypse at Stevenson, and watch horror movies late at night with me.

From so many firsts—first time failing room inspection (second day of school but I promise I haven't failed since junior year!), first Monday Night Dinner (I forged a friendship right there and then, comparing my schedule with hers and finding them to be almost identical!), first day of high school (I remember feeling daunted)—to beginning a lot of my lasts—last first day of high school (still felt daunted, but also felt like a veteran at tackling a heavy course load now!), last high school finals week (relieved about that one!), last Spring Carnival, and soon, one last Prom, one last Monday Night Dinner, and finally, one last look at a cleaned out dorm room before I depart for summer and beyond that, college. While we sprint towards graduation, meticulously counting down first the months, then the weeks, and now the meager handful of days, until we glide exuberantly across the stage of Rosen Amphitheater, clasping hands with the faculty, clutching, proudly, joyfully, finally, our high school diploma, complaining, "can it just be graduation already!", something that stopped me in my tracks, that probably is halting everyone in their headlong rush towards the end, is the slow rush of sentiment.

For me, it was walking back from dinner check-in with my friends, past the damp grass of Rosen amphitheater, up the gravel path past Silverado and Day dorms, underneath the Day Archway, as I always do. One of my friends turned to the rest of us, commenting, "I'll miss walking back like this; how will I ever get used to not seeing you guys everyday?". For all the personal adventures we hope to embark on in the future, beginning with that diploma with our name etched on it, with each individual first day of college, it's easy to forget the significance and comfort of the familiar crowd. In the softly glowing twilight of the ending day, head tilted up to stare at the wondrously beautiful sky framed by the dark trees, marveling at how scenic the buildings look against this colorful backdrop, with my feet instinctively following the path back to my room, all I can think about is how much I will dearly miss this place. I will also dearly miss being able to document these reflections on my time here at Stevenson, through these blog posts; I sincerely hope, though, that through my recollections, I have been able to depict the wonderful experience that my high school years have been, here at this home-away-from-home.


I'm An and I am a junior. I play field hockey, write for "Vailima," and participate in many clubs including the environmental club, the psychology club, and UNICEF — and on the weekends I help serve breakfast to the local homeless population. I've lived in four countries — Viet Nam, Hong Kong, England, and now the U.S. I've attended seven schools and lived in seven houses — and my favorite number is seven! I love traveling and I am secretly an enthusiastic fan of anything involving zombies and I'm always craving Sour Patch Kids.

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Fun Facts...

Favorite food at Café Louie Louie:Pot stickers
Favorite thing to do in my spare time:Borrow Mr. Clymo's dog Mouse and walk her to the beach
Top 5 favorite songs:1) "Venice" by The Lighthouse & the Whaler 2) "Skool" by San Cisco 3) "No Surprises" by Radiohead 4) "Move On" by Garden City Movement 5) "Harrison Ford" by Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
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