Senior Superlatives

Today, everyone in my class was handed the yearbook's survey to nominate for Senior Superlatives, which I realize does not need to be capitalized for English's sake, but the way these kids talk about them, you'd think they were the biggest thing in the world. (They're not, obviously. That would be my thighs.) I make fun, but I too spent nearly the whole day mulling over which of my peers has the Nicest Smile or Best Car. While attempting to complete the sheet, I was not filled with thousands of pleasant montagey moments of growing up with these people, but was more... overwhelmed... when I realized just how few of them I even know nowadays. I know the other honor students, the other drama kids, the other choir members, the other church-goers, the rest of the newspaper staff. But the wrestlers? The dance team? The people with real lives outside our high school? All of them are either faceless names or nameless faces, or frozen time capsules from middle school when we were all on equal playing ground, and you could lock braces with any zitty boy you wanted. I've found that in my class of a hundred people, I only really give a damn about thirty of them.

First, we're divided in half by black kids and white kids. This isn't a race thing-- or even really a class thing-- so much as a neighborhood thing. About 80% of the black kids live in the city and about 80% of the white kids live in the suburb or, like me, the small town. The division isn't a conscious thing, but the fact of it is, there's a good fifty or so people (give or take) that I don't have any real connection to.

Then there are the Honors kids and the Regular kids. My class has a freakish number of "gifted" students, and we've all been pretty tight-knit and full of ourselves since we were eight and standardized tests told us we were smart enough to never have to try. Because of the large number of us-- about twenty-- and maybe because there was something special in the water in the early nineties?, most of the Honors kids double as the Athletes and the Activity Participants. Therefore, we already have cliques built into our cliques. For example, I have a 3.8 GPA, but I'm nowhere near the top ten in my class. I've been leads in three of the musicals, but other Honors kids have competed in cross-country nationals. So basically we're all, like, doomed to hate each other.

Regardless, in the end I was nominated for Best Writer, Most into English, Most Technological and Most Likely to be Famous. The last one is a longshot, since we have a cute little singer/songwriter and a world-class gymnast. I'm definitely not that technological, but compared to the rest of them, I guess you could call me that. As for the first two, I'm going to be a jerk and... agree... but you're only allowed to win one. So we'll see.

It's just really weird, being a senior. All of a sudden I'm tempted to reflect on all the things I stopped caring about three years ago. I'm never going to be the type to moon over my yearbook, crying tears of nostalgia all over the pictures of the friends I once had. But it's something about knowing that in a month, everything that matters to everyone around me will end. It's just really weird.

Anyway, in youtubely news, today I went to Alan (fallofautumndistro)'s blogtv show, and he told me that if I blogged about him being hott and sexii he would put "SUBSCRIBE TO HAYLEYGHOOVER" in his email signature for 48 hours. I dunno, though. I asked him to sing me some Britney Spears and I was shot down. AND I now have to write him a song, thanks to some threatening and challenging from Alan and the peanut gallery. I guess it's not that big of an event for me to fangirl Alan, though. Hott and sexii he indeed is.

I also came across this a second ago and thought you might want to see it, as it's the most hilarious thing ever made.

Tonight I ran for the first time in a while. I put my iPod on shuffle and received, no joke, "Mrs. Nerimon," "Toy Food," "Maybe I Will" and "Nerdfighterlike," all one right after the other. You know you're addicted to youtube when.

Sexy: Overflowing with confidence, approaching arrogance but not quite crossing the line.

Unsexy: Being a toolbag and thinking you're just really hot and awesome when you're just really not.

Weight: 140

Chipotle burritos this year: 10

Subscribers: 14,838

Days left of high school: 32

Bye, guys! See you tomorrow. <3