A day after my high school graduation, I still cannot seem to accept the notion that I have officially graduated. When I went to congratulate my friends and take pictures yesterday evening, as well as in collecting yearbook signatures during the last few days of school, it felt as if I would see them again next fall. It's not like I will not miss them, I will; I just subconsciously persuade myself to think that nothing is changing, perhaps because it will be too much for me to bear if I acknowledge that I will be away from most of my friends later on.
On the other hand, graduation was kind of fun. Ira Glass, whom I had never heard of, put a nice spin on a momentous occasion. He poked fun at Stuyvesant, told stories, related some interesting stories that occurred in our four years* and, of course, congratulated us. Although, he left right after the salutatorian spoke, in the middle of the ceremony, which I took as rude. Oh, and Lincoln Center was under some heavy renovations, which ruined many of the nice photo ops.
* He said that the one thing most students he interviewed remember the fondest was "Happy Birthday Tanisha," a message on the digital message board facing our courtyard which had been there since the end of freshmen through senior year because "no one could figure out how to change it." The entire student body erupted in laughter at this joke.