Comfortable.

There are a few things that I would like to address, and none of them are remotely related to one another.

Firstly, nothing irritates me more than people who cannot take a compliment. If I think you're witty or pretty or have a nice smile and tell you, thank me and move on. I'm sorry if you think that I'm inaccurate. It irritates me, but it also saddens me that you don't believe me. 

As I listened to Mr. Foster tell the story of his parents today, one that begun with, "Well, my parents were - how do I put this nicely - stoners. They were hardcore stoners," I thought about how he's probably one of the most entertaining teachers I've ever seen. And I began to think about all the teachers I've had in high school.

Freshman year, Mrs. Utley stands out the most. I cannot believe it was three years ago that she was my teacher. She earned my respect very fast in an intense, slightly fearful way. I still owe her for all that she taught me: aside from a strong foundation in Latin, Mrs. Utley taught me English grammar. That's what scared me the most about high school. I entered into Honors English without knowing what a direct object was, and, to this day, I have no idea how I passed the admissions test. Yet somehow, on the very first day, she gave us an English grammar review, and suddenly, English made complete sense to me. It was genuinely like magic.

Then we moved onto Sophomore year. I have one word: Thoma. That man is my hero. He should be everyone's hero. Never in my life have I met a teacher that I wanted to impress more than that man. I wanted him to be proud of me. I tried excessively hard in that class just for a, "Good job, Haley." Actually, I tried excessively hard in that class because I thought he deserved a good grade from me. When I was having problems with Cameron, he went out of his way to respect my decisions but advise me. Finally, when Cameron and I broke up, he talked to me about it all the time just to make sure I was okay. I wasn't okay, but he made me want to be okay. No paragraphs on this blog will ever do that man justice because Mr. Thoma is an incredible teacher and an incredible person.

And now, I look at my English class and think about Dr. Allen. I've never met anyone with a spirit quite like hers. She's got the humor of a teenager but the analytical skills of a scholar. Actually, she's a bit of both. She makes me unafraid to speak my opinions in class. She makes me feel like I understand the metaphors and symbolism she sees. She even shares my love of dogs. I've always felt the need to be on edge and overly-proper in English classes, but with her, it's nice to just be myself. That  class feels like a family, and Dr. Allen is a wonderfully quirky woman.

This year, I start my day with Mrs. Mann. Out of everyone on this list, I think that Mrs. Mann has impacted my life the most. When Mrs. Utley left, I was devastated. I almost wanted to drop Latin because I did not think anyone was going to replace her. Then comes Mrs. Mann, silly, philosophical, laid-back Mrs. Mann. I fell in love with Latin. Honestly, she's more than a teacher to me. I feel like I could talk to her about absolutely anything. Her lessons don't just stop at Latin: discussions with her have made me a better student and person. She's the most selfless, humble person I've ever met, and if her husband is half the teacher that she is, I can see why everyone looks up to him so much. If I could be anything when I get older, I hope I'm like her. She's just up there with Thoma on the list of the greatest people I've ever known.

Damn, I'm a senior now. How am I supposed to leave this place? It's so comfortable. I can't imagine my life anywhere else.

But maybe that's the exact reason why I have to leave, and that breaks my heart.