2011 (Graduation)

Past 7am now. We're driving in the parking lot. The sun is hazily shining through the low and thick clouds, and the Civic Center stands tall on this day. I see Brittany Dressel leaving her car. She waved at me, do I know her? Anyway, I step out, gown and cap at-the-ready, and walk towards the entrance to the Civic Center.

I see people, and I see Jacob. The last person I preferably wanted to see in the morning. A director of some sort, maybe security, tells me and the rest to follow those going down the ramp to my right. We enter, and security, made up of just Mr. Reeve, stops to secure phones and stuff. "It's just a camera, Mr. Reeve... (just let me in, already...) Anyway, we're in... and it is ghastly cold! Jacob and I continue in. He apologized for the issue with the camping trip. I was okay with it, that was all I needed... but I really just wanted to know why he was mad at me in the first place. Eh, it doesn't matter. This is our time, like everyone was saying.

The crowd continued. Faces I knew, continued to come into this immense open place, under all the seats and bleachers upstairs in the stadium. And this camera... gah, I hate this camera. This was gonna be the last time I'll ever see most of these people, and I got a crappy camera to make of it all. And parents are coming in through here? Really? Hmm... maybe my parents can do the same, and find a better spot for themselves. Mrs. Young, who somehow got me through her Chemistry class; Mr. Meitin, who has such a Jerry Sienfeld-charisma; Mrs. Andrews, who saved my life with college; and so many others. By the end of much talk and hanging, we had an hour to go and I had nothing to do.

Eventually, we're called up by the signs from yesterday's practice graduation. Just like yesterday; no Veronica Garcia-whoever infront, so leave an empty seat. Ciera and Brian to my left, and small talk, sweet talk. Camera talk, too. God, I hate this camera... alright, it's about to begin.

The teachers and faculty lead the way, and now it's as if the graduates are all alone with no leader. Let's not screw this up. One after the other, orderly as yesterday, a pair at a time... then my row follows the procession. We make it to the small hallway between the room we were in, and the stadium. Slowly, we go. Slowly, I follow the procession out of the two curtains, Kieran Edmonds to my right. "You got this?", I ask. We stop, wait for those two to cross that blue tape, and then we go, and...

Oh, Jesus.

There are bodies, and eyes, eyes everywhere, just, just looking at us. Oh my God, this is really happening. I see a blue floor, I see teachers in black gowns, folding seats with the white coverings over the seats, and I hear whistles and name shouts, and the piano lady, playing that same tune I heard in last year's graduation... only I'm not a spectato-

Alright, no, focus... 4th row. Follow her. Left. Save spot for Veronica. Smile. Walk. Don't look around, eyes straight. Saved.

Oh, shit, all the people. All the people...

Keep your cool. Breath. Oh my God, my legs are shaking. Breath! Keep your neck straight, don't stretch! Oh, man, this procession goes on forever... ew, God, Mrs. Collins, right to my left... gah, this tassel is fucking with me. Stay straight! Turn it abit towards the edge. Alright, that work... alright, make sure the cap is straight... I just heard my name being called from my mother... behind me? I told them of spots right across from my row... probably the cheap bastards who reserved spots and refuse any leeway like a pack of ravening dogs.

One pair after the other, after the other, after the other... alright, it's over... now to stay standing, and take off our caps for the Pledge of Allegiance. I haven't done the Pledge in months. Why am I doing it now? Maybe because of a freedom to graduate. Maybe... hmm, not everybody took their caps off? Am I doing something wrong?

JROTC Color Guard. The entire stadium is silent. Not a sound, maybe a whisper. Do these guys graduate today, like us?

The Columbia County BOE looks real happy to be here. Especially District 3, oh, looked like he was having a ball being here.

Emily Bordon... HA! She freezes in the middle of her speech twice. I find it funny. It's like seeing a spoiled blonde who probably got honors cheaply screw up her introduction... oh, wait!

Mr. Barney...


"Yeah... Mr. Barney. He does AP, and regular World History. Oh, he's one of the best. And I mean, I never had him before. But I talk to him like he is one of my teachers, he's such a welcoming guy. It's one of those people, where you never had the person for a teacher, yet they can be such a good friend like that... that's special, dad, that's, he deserved to speak... and yeah, on holidays, he does wear a kilt."


Yeah, he really is getting old. He has seen alot, I guess. Maybe that explains why he's probably such a good teacher. Because he knows what he's talking about. Man, I'm gonna miss that guy. Good speech.

And a song... and a guitar... and the same ol' two-stringed tune, whatever... meh. I mean, the song's good, but... meh, traditions like that...

Alright, now it's onto Salutatorian and Valedictorian peopl-

WOW, man! You mentioned "caffine in the morning"... this morning, man? Shit. He looked like when I presented my practice presentation for my Senior Project. Not really a great feeling. And all I heard was the same thing from his speech, over and over. Gah, these traditions are really getting redundant...

Alright, Josh. Had you for British Lit. with Mrs. Collins. You're a Christian guy. Hardcore... eh, it was a nice speech. Caught on with it nicely. Liked it, man.

It's time.

Anxiety. Blood pressure, rising. Row #1... it's starting... Row #2... clap, man, these are your friends... Row #3... clap some more... thumbs up, good luck, Brian... Mrs. Hancock counting... 3, 2, 1... Row #4 rises, I'm standing. I turn my body to my right. There's a long line, a very long line. But it was going on so fast... Mrs. Simons... we're getting closer... she's conveniently right to my left... "Won't have to deal with me again, Mrs. Simons." "You're right... An-thony, is gone."... Oh, my God, we're close.

The stairs. They're black, metallic, clanking... a long piece of duct tape to stop us again... a small mat to allign our feet for the photographer to our right. One at a time... aligned, straight. Camera. -click-

'1812 Overture, Finale'. Remember, in your head, remember. It slowly comes. Clap for Haley. The strong trumpets, as I take heavy steps on these stairs... the violins, the trumpets... I'm itching closer. Closer...

I'm on the stage. Stop. Wait... wait...

"Anthony Joseph-Agnew...

I take the walk. The walk of 12 years, the handshakes of 12 years, the superintendent of 12 years, the diploma case of one lifetime, the Board of Education of Columbia County, 5 years. "Thank you" and "Thank you very much", over and over, handshake, handshake. And now the final picture. Hold it right, hold it proud... the trumpets, the bombardments, the climax... and, scene.

And now for all the rest... There were not so many celebrations and wooh-wahs' for many of the people I know deserve it. But interestingly, not for many of the others and prep stereotypes.

Lindsay. Gah, I love her.

"TOGO!" Love that guy...

And Nolan. He's been in my path since my first day at Evans Middle. He's got Honors, of course. Hope he does well.

And Jamie... Oh my God, the sonovabitch is graduating. Glad for that guy, actually. People will surprise you.


And Elijah. And Edmond. And Taylor Todd. I've seen him change these 5 years I've known him... Now Drew. And Alexis... Sports Spectrum memory. Oh, man...  and now the last graduate.

The crowd is estatic. Debani just stands there and lets the crowd suck us all up... the tassel. It's time.

Right hand.

Tassel, to my left.

12 years.

... oh, fine... the Alma Mater... that almost everybody mumbled and blah... and now, caps are everywhere. I think I flinged mine. It went somewhere around Row #1 to the right. I hope I get it back.

The world exploded around me. It was a Rapture, alright...

- Ant

May 2nd, 2011

- We're having a sub today for Java Programming. She's limited our work significantly so that it's nothing bug utter silence for the day. If the class can't program our LEGO bots, or listen to music/play games...

Then what in the hell are we suppose to do?!?...

40 minute left in school, what am I suppose to do in this class when I can't do anything right now? Blog, maybe? I'm not in the spirit completely (though, I could finish my entry on Bin Laden from last night...)... seriously, no talk, no music, no programming, nothing... eh, crap...


- Things to do tonight:
   1) Update to Firefox 4. (Used it in the Media Center for 4th just some minutes ago; it is fantastic)
   2) Finish blog entry on Bin Laden.
   3) Come up with idea for thisibelieve.org essay.
   4) Recycle poem papers in binder (the speech went out perfect, thank God)
   5) Study for Economics test (no point in it, though. If I fail, I know it won't be my fault. I can say so many things about Mr. Bailie... but above anything, he should not teach. He can't teach. Oh, he can teach us how to be creepy, disturbing, perverted kissasses... but he can't teach Economics for shit. I'm more than likely gonna get a below-average score on my EOCT, with all the studying I may do these days... and for all I know, I may be held back by his pissoff class and not graduate or go to college on-time... I just hope he loses his job someday. That sonovabitch can't teach, above anything in life...

God, I have so much time on my hands right now... I think I'll go to see if I can bring my Lit book to my locker...

- Ant