When I was growing up, I watched movies from the 1980s and thought I had high school figured out. My preconceived ideas of “the best four years of my life” couldn’t have been more incorrect. Movies like “The Breakfast Club” made me aspire to be Molly Ringwald. In my innocent eyes she was this strong, beautiful character and I vowed to be like her. I didn’t want to be a “princess” but I wanted to be as well loved and admired as she was in her movies.

I remember all my first days of each year at LHS, and unfortunately in my sophomore year no one forgot to remember my 16th birthday. But there was something different about my first day of senior year. My last, first day topped them all. I started my day by telling myself, “Just 36 more weeks and I would be out of here.”

I went all out for homecoming, something I didn’t do my first three years. I spent a ridiculous amount of cash at thrift shops and Party America and spent an ample amount of time piecing together the perfect outfits. I found myself getting in the Patriot spirit and from that point on my senior year has gotten better.

In the blink of an eye, I find myself writing my senior reflection for the Statesman the week after prom. I spent an entire Saturday doing my hair, makeup and nails, which if you know who I am, it is a pretty rare occasion that I dress up. I spent my night dancing on the stage and with my friends and I hoped that the night would never end.

I have my cap and gown hanging in my closet, waiting for me to wear it on June 4. I’m spending a ridiculous amount of time applying for scholarships and planning my open house while somehow meeting every excruciating deadline Kroeze throws my way. Okay, that’s a lie because I’m turning in my senior reflection a day late.

If I could go back in time, I would live my senior year all over again but I would make more of my first three years. I would have joined the Statesman earlier and made more friends like Ellie Lamberty. I would have attended more sporting events and I would have spent more time being as positive and as hopeful for the future as I have been this year.

While most of these 80s movies I spent day and night watching proved to have untrue ideas about high school, they gave me hopes and dreams of what someday might be. I wanted to be well loved like Molly Ringwald and be as funny as Ferris Bueller, which I think I was able to achieve with my almost unanimous class clown victory. One thing from all these movies seems to be extremely accurate at this point in my life, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you might miss it.”