Let me preface this column by saying I’m no good at writing columns, so please bear with me as I stumble through countless inside jokes and what will probably turn out to be really lame thank yous—though in theory, they will seem deeply poignant and very, very moving.

Clearly, the first people I have to talk about are Patty Vaughan and the one and only William J. Tucker. It still is weird to me now to think we were ever strangers, or in your case, Will, that I only met you a year ago. The first time we ever met we decided we were going to be real go-getters and get the budget/interview schedules down that night. We’ve come a long way in terms of getting closer and in terms of just how late we could wait to finish the budget.

I can honestly say when I think back to my senior year, the first thing I’ll remember is El Rincon after work (particularly infuriating nights when we had plenty to complain about) and going to City Café on Friday mornings. I’ve known people for the duration of my college time who aren’t at all as close to me as you guys are, from the first party we all went to together, to sending texts in Troy about eating napkins (and sending texts in the newsroom when we couldn’t talk about something out loud), to Will being consistent with “I’m reaaallyyy gonna miss you guys!” at certain “key points” in the nights and getting hyphy when need be or singing “Finally Moving” at the top of his cute little lungs. Patty, Mumford and Sons will always remind me of you, as well as anytime “I want a hamburger.”

I love you both a lot; I probably wouldn’t have made it without you.

Victor, I don’t know how you got me to work as hard as I did or find as much information as you insisted I find for graphics and other random things, but you did, and you should be proud of yourself for that; it’s not an easy feat. Some of the things I’ll remember most vividly about you are the times we spent during the summer doing multiple inserts and deliriously laughing about “SPAIN Y’ALL,” which really isn’t very funny at all. What’s funny is that the sign stayed up in the newsroom all year, and I’m pretty sure 90 percent of the staff had no idea why it was there. Of course, I’ll also remember Lil Jon talking to that cop who got down to Outkast and me driving you and Adam back to your cars after I turned left on red and kept trying to drive away as Adam had one foot on the pavement trying to extract himself from my car.

Though you infuriated me sometimes, I really do appreciate you giving me the chance to work with an absolutely amazing and unstoppable staff this year. It was an irreplaceable year—one of the best I’ve had.

Adam, you exposed me to some pretty great things that I’d previously hated, like Pita Pit and crossword puzzles. You’ve aptly described our relationship as “love-hate,” but we both know it was all done in jest. I know you’re going to miss sitting down at your computer and pulling out your keyboard to find a soy sauce packet, just as I’m going to miss dodging flying soy sauce packets as I was reading stories into the system. You’re definitely one of the few people I’ve ever met who tops me in sarcasm.

To everyone else I worked with in the newsroom, it wouldn’t have been the same without you (Jason, I just don’t know how I ever worked without you at the computer next to me mumbling to yourself and intermittently whistling). Tray, don’t mess with my man, and you will always owe me and Will for saving you from you know what. Tony, I wish you’d been in the newsroom before it became time for me to graduate within a matter of months, and even though I’ve frequented Grey Lady all year, when I think of it, you will now be associated with it.

I wish I could give everyone a shout out, but there’s a word count to consider here.

To Mark Mayfield, you’ve been awesome with always being available to us this year and working to get the paper the respect it deserves. We all really appreciate everything.

To our reporters—particularly Team Hannah—you guys were resilient to say the least, even when I sent you emails consisting of 72-point font and tons of highlighting. Some of you just started working a few months ago, and you’ve progressed so much. I know you’re going to be great this year. Thanks so much for the hard work and for putting up with my rants/when I snapped at you.

I will absolutely never forget this year, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

PEACE OUT, but not forever.

Hannah Mask was the assistant news editor for the 2010 – 2011 school year