Happy New Year!

Or, school year, that is.

The week I thought would never come has come at last (flashbacks to Mary Dupuis as Mae Peterson in Bye Bye Birdie: "It's come at last! At last it's come! The day I knew would come at least has finally come at last!"). I wouldn't say I was particularly looking forward to it, but I wasn't dreading it either--packing up all of my stuff, running last-minute errands, and final good-bye dinners with everyone has consumed my life the past few weeks.

So since I've been bogged down with dreams of 50% off Staples coupons, 2-for-1 binder deals, cheap apartment buys, and packing all of my possessions in portable containers, I've decided to devote my last blog post for the month (since I'll most definitely not have time to write one during FrOG week) to s-c-h-o-o-l because my graduation year is getting closer and closer, and--let's face it--I'm a little scared.

Dear Calendar Year, 2012:

It would be really wonderful if you could slow down just a tad.

I know you're just itching to ring yourself in Jan. 1st 2012, but me not so much.

I'm not sure if you noticed, but I've already turned the big 2-0, had my emotional breakdown for doing so, and moved on. I don't know if I can handle another major milestone just yet, so just cool it. I'm already too old to read Seventeen Magazine and I've come to accept the fact that soon my mailbox will be littered with AARP newsletters and my subscription to Better Homes and Gardens. Let's not get any grey hairs soon out of spite, okay?

And also, it would be wonderful if you could just hold off on making your grand appearance anytime soon. I'm a junior now, in case you hadn't heard.

I'm not too thrilled about being pummeled into the Real World, having to "make it on my own" and grow up.

So maybe you could take a vacation for awhile.

I hear Venezuela is nice this time of year.

Or Barbados.

Or a galaxy far, far away. That'd be my preference, but hey--your call.

Anyway, just kick back, take a few sedatives, maybe sleep it off a couple of years...whatever floats your boat.

Heck--there are already rumors that you're ending the world. You just don't have to rub it in all the time. Give the other years a chance.

They've even made movies out of you.

Horror movies.

Plus, to make matters worse, some pretty scary things have been happening to us the past couple of years (i.e. sinkholes, oil spills, locusts, and fashion disasters).

I don't even want to know what you have in store for us.

So maybe you shouldn't be showing your face around here just yet.

All I'm asking is that you just take your time getting here and let me enjoy my last few years of adolescence.

Okay, post-adolescence. Whatever.

Thanks.

Love, Erin