I’m caught somewhere between feeling nostalgic for a summer that’s still got one day to go and excited for the routine of fall.  The  weather seems to be reflecting my own indecision- It’s getting ready to be fall yet still hanging on summer, with  those wonderfully warm days tempered by chill breezes that make September my favorite month.

 It feels weird… this is my first “official” summer break and next year will be my last. I know I’m only going into grade eleven, but a lot of my friends are going into their last year of high school, and all in all it’s just a reminder of  the fact that being a teenager is a very small and fleeting portion of your life which far too much emphasis is put on.

 (Somebody, quick, smack me before I turn into Holden Caulfield.)

Maybe I should just take Lupin’s advice.

 On a more amusing note: although only the grade nines start on Wednesday, my art teacher asked me to come in to talk about the IB art 11 course I’m going to be taking. I just have to come in for the last class of the day, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I quite want to dress in all black clothes, oversized glasses and a neck scarf, then walk around school the entire day, thumbing my noses at the grade nines and drawling things about how someday “You too may do IB”, and, “These are mature things you wouldn’t understand”…just generally being a pretentious know it all jerk.

I probably won’t actually go through with this.

Probably.

 

 

Dealing with the end of summer by messing with the fragile brains of niners in the name of being pretentious…so tempting.

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