The summer between high school graduation and college is probably one of the most bittersweet you'll ever experience. While you're head-over-heels excited to be heading off to a whole new school in a few months, saying goodbye to the close-knit group of friends you've grown up with is tough.
College decision letters are rolling in for high school seniors, and the time to choose where you're headed for the next chapter of your life is fast approaching. If you're still on the fence about which school you'll be attending, you're not alone.
High school is a very interesting time in a person's life, even more so than college. I think what makes it so "interesting" is that we aren't really adults yet, but we try to act like it. Our changing bodies and emotional states of mind certainly don't add well to the mix, and only further contribute to our madness.
The white students painted themselves black (for historic accuracy), dressed in what they believed to be urban attire (for cultural relevance) and proceeded to beat one another with what appears to be an umbrella (-ella, -ella, ay).
At the time, I took high school way too seriously. If I could visit my 16-year-old self in a time machine, I would promptly slap her and tell her to calm down. Now I wish I could reverse the clock and have a million times more fun. Needless to say, I miss quite a few things from high school.
For many of us who are going back to our hometowns for Thanksgiving break, the possibility of seeing your ex boyfriend or girlfriend is very likely. This can be especially awkward if you broke it off just because you two were going to different schools.
Unless you live in an internet-less cave, or are one of those "I don't have a Facebook" weirdos, then you have to already know that Facebook is going to change A LOT in the next few weeks. The new Facebook Timeline profile is a stalkers dream. The Timeline highlights events in your life (because we all want to re-live that bad break-up), and Facebook is teaming up with other websites, like Hulu, so you can watch shows with your friends over Facebook.
She’s an aspiration. You know you’ll never have her closet or her men or her friends who always seem to always have time to grab lunch with her despite their real jobs. She’s pure fiction, but I still love her. And now she’s going to be ruined.
High school, that little local bubble of a world (unless you’re in an out of state school for one reason or another). A lot of couples are practically tied to the hip when graduation comes and then there’s the decision that has to be made: “Do I take the relationship to college with me?”
In high school, my sex ed was what you would call minimal. Since Texas firmly believes in abstinence only education (which so doesn't work - my high school had a day care program for crying out loud!), I consider myself very lucky that I had a very open-minded mother who taught me about sex. Here's what they should be teaching high schoolers in order to better prepare them.
High school photos are terrible. It didn’t matter how I parted my hair or which neutral color shirt I chose, I always ended up with an awkward—head pretty much twisted off body, toothy grin—photo. Far from my best glamour shots. But let's take a look at some our girl crushes in their high school days and let’s see who made the grades.
For us, the incoming freshman of the Class of 2015, we’ve got less than a season to primp ourselves, prep our minds, and broaden our horizons enough to give a great first impression on that first day of classes. (And if we plan on rushing a sorority fall semester, that pressure is basically quadrupled.)
There are a lot of inconsistencies between real high school and the way high school is portrayed on TV shows. For example, the fact that TV high schools let students chill aimlessly in the hall every 10 minutes or how they obviously never have any homework since their fictional lives are way too action-packed to have time for anything like that.
Dear Tuffy Luv, I moved for my senior year of high school and at the beginning had a little trouble making friends because it's a small town, everyone knows everyone, etc. Finally I did start making some, and one of the first ones was this girl, Peggy. Peggy is one of those people who is overly nice to everyone, so it really wasn't surprising she was one of the first people to approach me.
So I was flipping through some old Facebook albums the other day (you know the ones people label THROWBACKS! OLDSCHOOL! And OMG WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!! ) when in between fits of hysterical laughter, I started to catch sight of what I actually looked like. And all I can say is, seriously? I mean, seriously? I know I was young and naïve, but I don’t remember being that naïve.
There is a song called “sitting here in limbo” that goes, “sitting here in limbo, but I know it won’t be long… Sitting here in limbo, waiting for the dice to roll…”. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? You feel as if that letter. that magical acceptance letter, will end your misery. Yet, I'm here to remind you that you are within the eye of a storm and as soon as that letter comes, your life will change.
Dear Tuffy Luv, It's my freshman year of college and I started spending a lot of time with this boy on my floor. By a lot I mean we stay up until 3 a.m almost every night talking and he comes over to my room unannounced just to hangout, he texts me on weekends after I've gone out to hangout, and he flirts with me on the regular. Needless to say, I like him. The only issue is he has a girlfriend.
I’ve decided recently, while lying naked in my bed after a shower (try it—it might just be the greatest thing about being home) that this break is 5% nostalgia, 25% catching some Z’s, 20% eating and 50% flat out weird.
Our friends over at The Gloss recently did a post on all the things they don’t miss about being in their twenties. But as a twenty-something myself, I’ve gotta say - I’m pretty content. Sure, there are moments I wish I had a little more cash or that my job was a bit cushier. But some of their points were reminiscent of things I realized in my teens.
When I was twelve, all I wanted was to be a cheerleader. Okay, so this didn’t really set me apart from any of my peers; becoming cheerleader is right up there with “actress” and “ballerina” in terms of typical pipe dreams for young girls. But for me, the quest to become one the few, the proud, the peppy had very little to do with the cute uniforms or notions of sisterly bonding.
People can be monsters, and I don’t mean in the Lady Gaga sense. They can be downright vicious to others without even realizing the irreversible damage they cause in the process. Though I keep it hidden away in a corner of my mind, I have a lot of memories of this kind of often subtle ruthlessness. I spent most of my young life as “the fat girl.” This is what I remember.
The summer after I graduated from high school I was excited to finally be free from compulsory family vacays to celebrate the 4th of July. So to celebrate both America’s and my own newfound independence, I went big, I went all out – I went to a house party.
Those of you who recently graduated from high school might be familiar with the new trend in academic ranking: multiple valedictorians. Say what? It’s true, in another attempt to placate everyone and their parents spread the love, school systems are recognizing arbitrary numbers of honored graduates- 7, 10, 23, 94- as valedictorians.
Sixth grade was a rough year for me. I was sitting at the semi-popular table at lunch and was delusional enough to think I was the cat’s pajamas. Looking back, I simply was not. Maybe because I used phrases like "the cat's pajamas." And now, a Swedish study is telling me that my unpopularity will cause me to suffer from heart disease and diabetes later in life and I will most likely start doing drugs and try to kill myself.
I had the perfect relationship. We met in my junior year of high school, and continued to date for the next year. While I had already lost my virginity prior to meeting my high school sweetheart, he had not (as far as I knew). During the first couple weeks of our relationship, I avoided the topic of virginity like the plague, as I didn't want to rehash my embarrassing and somewhat regretted first time.