Pet Peeve About This Year

I don't much care about the rest of these 24 days or so of my highschool career. I feel a little sad, but mostly empty. Usually, I don't feel anything at all. These last four years haven't been awful, but they could've been better. I wish I had been graduating with the Class of 2009. For one, the students, in my opinion, were less uptight about everything, and the faculty (specifically the principals), were more easygoing. I mean, if you think about it, the principals took away everything this year.
For good reason, the Dawg Pound was taken away, but now we can't even eat breakfast the day of graduation, which has been tradition to eat breakfast before graduation at Dunbar since it opened. I wouldn't even have been angry about that if I hadn't known. But all I understand is that there is NO senior prank, NO breakfast, NO Dawg Pound, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. Why should I have the right to have fun my last year at Dunbar? Like I said, I wouldn't even have been upset had I not known about this, but it's all just so negative.
It irks me when people think they can control my life because they thinks that's what's best for me. I'm not a child. I know that a senior prank shouldn't be something like spreading shaving cream all over the hallways and having a massive slip-n-slide, and it won't be (if there is one). I know it's expensive to clean up and stupid and irresponsible. I know that. Seriously, I'm not seven. 
Also, if I wear a completely appropriate dress for my Senior Volleyball Day, don't make me change into jeans and a t-shirt because the lace part shows an inch of my knees. I know you probably thought my knees were just too sexy for that dress, but I cried for an hour when I got home. A friend who was my exact height got away with wearing that dress a week later.
Anyway, I'm not too sad about my highschool career ending, mostly because of all this authority being shoved down my throat. Of course, I'll miss my family and friends when I go off to college, but I will definitely not miss Dunbar.