Our Time 1998

U l h e r e w i l l y o u r r o o m m a t e b e i n t w e n t y y e a r / ? I n P o l a n d , r u n n i n g h i s o w n c h a i n o f h o t e l s w i t h h i s w o r l d f a m o u s b r e w e r y . - B r i a n K i m a b o u t K n s p i n T u r c z y n s k i A s t a r v i n g a r t i s t o n t h e s t r e e t s o f P a r i s . - S a r a h M o s s a b o u t S o n y a K o o A k a s h i s g o i n g t o b e t h e K i n g o f E n g l a n d . - J o n D e l a C r u z a b o u t A k a s h S h a h I n a b i g l a b s o m e w h e r e a n d s h e ' l l n e v e r c o m e o u t . - L u a n d a L a w s o n a b o u t P J B a l i n B r i d g e t w i l l b e i n S t o c k h o l m w i n n i n g t h e N o b e l P r i z e f o r p h y s i c s . - J u l i e C o m e r f o r d a b o u t B r i d g e t W e s t O n h e r t h i r d m a r r i a g e . - S a r a h G u t h r i e a b o u t C o u r t n e y W i l l i a m s H a v i n g S u r v i v e d t h e R o c k C l i m b . . . L C I came here an inno– cent, naive little girl. I ended up being corrupted by my twisted quad mates. They turned me into ... nevermind," s a i dAbby Moy. Does this sound familiar, seniors? Maybe we didn't all succumb to the wily ways of our quad mates. Maybe not all of the introverts became extro– verts. Maybe we haven't all changed that much since sophomore year. But, we must admit that we no longer resemble those naive, innocent creatures we once were. I mean, just because we ' ve lived in a cornfield for the last three years doesn't mean we ' ve been living in a vacuum- sealed bag in an IMSA refrigerator. Face it, se– niors, we're so different after our three-year journey through the caverns and chasms of IMSA that even our underwear doesn't fit the same way. On that first bright, shining, extremely muggy day that we first set foot on the campus of the Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy, who would have thought that we would soon be calling it home not only out loud but also in our hearts (much to the dismay of our parents)? "Home is not just where you make it. Home is where it makes you," said Ad am Van Den Boom. "And IMSA has definitely made me. Sometimes when I wake up, I don't even know who I am. But, that could be from the extreme lack of sleep that I get at night." The Academy has definitely made each of us who we are today. If it weren't for IMSA's classes, would we all be so adept at getting so much work done in so little time? If it wasn't for Arbor's food, would we all be the masters of microwaveable dinners that we are today? If it wasn't for such fine art as Yare, Entelechy, and the Pillow Wall, would we be the fine, cultured critics of exquisite taste and high reason? I think not. It's amazing how far we've come in our three years at IMSA. It seems only yesterday that we were participating in our first Sex in a Fishbowl activity. And last week, I could have sworn that I felt slight pangs of regret tug at my heart when I saw sophomores experiencing the j oy of mandatory study hours. No, not really, but I can pretend. 70 Sienuviss