"The invention of the teenager was a mistake. Once you identify a period of life in which people get to stay out late but don’t have to pay taxes – naturally, no one wants to live any other way."


Ah, high school. I remember like it was yesterday.  Captain of the girls varsity soccer, tennis, and water polo team; studying ridiculous hours (until I went to college and realized what studying really was) for my A.P. exams; hanging out in Lowe’s parking lot on the weekend because it was the only place without security.  High school was a blast (and a drag, don’t get me wrong) and thank goodness it’s over.  But some of the things I remember best about my four years in purgatory were the dances.  I was on the events planning committee and created my ideal evenings, for the Anime Kids, the Jocks, the Nerds and Band Geeks, the Stair Kids (more commonly known as the ones who drank Nyquil for lunch), the Theater Folk, and the Mean Girls.  It was the one time a semester when we put our differences aside, got gussied up, spent a bunch of money, and two-stepped to The Pussycat Dolls.
This past weekend, I flashbacked to these golden moments as Pierpont Place hosted The Waterford School’s Winter Formal.  Excited to not be wearing the school uniform, students poured in wearing their most sparkly dresses and crooked bow ties.  On one side of the room stood the girls; the other, the boys.  It was that awkward moment when it’s only a matter of time before the DJ plays the right song, and inhibitions are tossed to the side, along with the four-inch heels. Cue “Gangnam Style.”
In between the fist pumping and imaginary horse riding (watch the video if you have no idea what I’m referring to), students lined up for group and couple photos, snacked on punch and cake pops, and stuck plastic tubes up their noses at the oxygen lounge.  This winter formal definitely gave my high school’s a run for it’s money.  

As students “dropped it like its hot” to one last song, I couldn’t help but smile and be grateful for my time at my alma mater, Kealakehe High School.  But then I remembered that I don’t have a curfew, or homework, or the pressure to fit in that all these young adults have…. and for that moment, I couldn’t be happier to say that I am an “adult.”

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