Thursday, March 31, 2011
But then I started thinking about when you go over to other peoples house and you see a spray air freshener in the bathroom - especially when it is in plain site. It grosses me out. You wanna know why it grosses me out? Because it is a visual reminder that the person you are visiting poops. And poops on the toilet you are about to use. Call me crazy, but that is not a pleasant thought.
That is the second reason why you will never see air freshener in my bathroom. The first reason being that girl poop doesn't smell.
I wish I had purchased this product last week when I saw it in Seattle because it is brilliant!
It's a product made from essential oils that you spray in the toilet before... you know... you put 'stuff' in it and it will create a barrier for "embarrassing odors."
Spritz the bowl
before you go
and no one else
will ever know
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
He offered her the world. She already had her own.
The title of this post sounds so depressing doesn't it?
I want you to click on the link to the right that says 'The Guide to Urban Singledom.'
When this blog was sent to me to pre-read before it's official release date, I fell in love. I love that there is another strong, independent, educated, funny, beautiful, Christian woman out there who lives her life not for her parents, or for what society says 20 something young women have to do, but for herself.
Here is a sampling that I found encouraging. This woman is very like me.
One day in highschool there was a young man at the front of the classroom. He was talking about our hopes and dreams for the future. What we wanted to accomplish and what goals we want to have fulfilled in 10 years time. He went around the classroom asking everyone and all their answers were fairly similar. Graduate. Own a farm and have a family. Get a bachelors degree. Be in school to become a doctor. Get married. Buy a house. YAWN! To me, all of these things sounded very boring and mundane. I couldn't imagine all these people I was going to school with would just suddenly grow up and become the adults that we now tormented. It was at that moment in my life that I decided to do things differently. I would not follow the crowd. I would not run with the herd of lemmings off the edge of the cliff and plummet to a final resting place (into adulthood.) I wanted to create my own path, and find my own direction. I wanted to clear my own way, a way that nobody else has ever gone. I will do things different then my fellow classmates of life.
It's great to be an adult. To get a job, to get married. But Jacci has reinforced for me that it is just as great to NOT do that. She's an encouragement to me. A reminder that perfectly awesome, beautiful, funny, hilarious single women still exist in this world. Not a lot of women mind you, but for now there is Me, Jacci, Tiersa, SB, and Lillian.
P.S. Make sure you watch the video where she washes her dog that was posted on March 16.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Going back to school this week after two glorious weeks of spring break it has been not only difficult, but nearly impossible to get my carcass out of bed. Today I literally felt like I had been run over by a semi. And then backed over. And then a brick wall fell on me. It literally hurt to keep my eyes open until about 11:30 today.
In the morning it is very difficult to get me to listen to what you have to say. But today the people of 97.5 the River, a local radio station here in Kamloops did something that hasn't happened since I can remember. They made me laugh before 7:30 in the morning.
And I'm totally going to steal some of their material to make you laugh.
Today's topic: Dating Websites.
I've had a beef with dating websites for years. I don't know why, I just think they are weird. Deep down I know they are normal and people meet on them, and lah dee dah lovey mclovester they are great. But I just have a .... 'thing'.
Now that I'm pushing 30 and gloriously single people are constantly trying to get me to join one or more dating sites. I've refused up until this point. But with so many dating websites that cater to different groups of people, I've realized that there are many options that might be helpful to me. Help me choose which one you think I should sign up with.
1. Darwin Dating
"Online dating minus ugly people"
People can vote on your profile and if you don't make the cut, the site kicks you off.
I doubt I would last a day.
2. Sugar Daddie
"Where the classy, attractive, and affluent meet"
Check all that apply. Unfortunately for me, 'none-of-the-above' isn't an option.
3. Cougar Women
4. Meet an Inmate
"Can you imagine what it must be like for attractive men and women to be without companionship? These incarcerated female and male inmates are paying a price for crimes they have committed. These inmates are very real and are seeking you!"
5. Trek Passions
"Live long and prosper"
Really? That's your pick up line?
6. Diaper Mates
" A forum where people interested in wearing adult-sized diapers or makeshift diapers can search for, share photos with and meet people who have similar interests."
First of all, people do that? Secondly, people admit that they do it and proclaim it online? Thirdly, no thanks.
7. Vampire Passions
"A 100% free online dating & social networking site for vampires and vampire lovers."
Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't vampires fictional? Doesn't it seem like a waste of time to make a dating website for vampires - especially since they don't exist? Call me crazy...
8. STD Match
"Connect with other singles in your area who share your STD"
N/A. AND EW.
There are so many to choose from? How can one possibly decide what website is best for them? For now I think I'll stay away from online dating....
(P.S. I hope you all got a kick out of this post because it took me an hour to write then when I went to post it it hadn't saved so I had to re-do it all because it was such 'gold' I had to share it with you! And that was the worst sentence I have ever written...)
Monday, March 28, 2011
I'm not talking about putting salt in someone's drink,
or even: let's tell her that boy she likes is waiting to meet her in the back parking lot after school
or even the: let's draw on her face with eyeliner when she's sleeping.
I'm talking about GOOD pranks. Ones that take time, energy, planning and finances to do. Pranks that are not harmful or hurtful or stupid - the ones that whether they happen to someone you know, or even to yourself, you can smirk or even laugh at the cleverness of the pranksters.
Take for the time in college when someone stole my toilets.
THAT is a clever prank.
Or the time when someone thoroughly wrapped my car in police tape.
Or even the time when all the lables on the cans in my cuboard were not just cut off, but carefully switched onto different cans. I got so frustrated one day making chili when I kept opening cans of peaches and pears that I actually went to the grocery store to tell them to mention to their suppliers that their labels were wrong. I found out later that soemone had broken into my kitchen and switched the labels. They felt great that I was so stupid. I felt... well... really stupid.
I'm talking about the time when my entire fifth grade class disappeared in the middle of the day.
Pranks like that take time, effort and planning. They are harmless and funny. (Come on - they took my toilet! Brilliant!)
Last night as I was driving the KCS Guatemala team back from the airport in Seattle I was talking with one of the chaperones and a twelfth grade leader and the topic of pranks came up, becuase I played one on a friend last week that was clever, simple and amusing. To everyone. It wasn't my best prank by far, but it was geared to the person it was played on and it hit home in a real way. I've jokingly been disowned as a friend and am, and I quote 'dead to him'. (P.S. JB, I'm specifically writing this post for you because you were whining that I haven't mentiond you on my blog lately. Here's your shout out)
Anyways JB (who I just realized now has the same initials of my boy the Biebster) LOVES his truck. When I say 'loves' I don't mean he really likes it, or is obessed with it, I mean he actually, physically, with his whole entire being, heart, mind, body and soul, LOVES his truck. We are not even allowed to talk about or mention his truck without him getting protective. We've been clearly warned, many times, that to even touch his truck would result in a big brown coiler placed strategically on our pillows. And that's a quote.
I never touched his truck.
But I did put a for sale sign on it. $500 OBO and his phone numbers.
Simple. Clever. Funny.
It was also funny when I heard that my friend played a similar prank on his brother. Only he advertised his brothers truck in the classifides and left specific instructions to call between certain hours - the hours when his brother was sleeping.
When it comes to pranks though, my all time, best prank ever occurred years ago after the excellently planned 'steal dorm 8's toilets (and all their furniture)' episode of the fall of 2002. You know when you prank someone (especially a Gerrits - and FYI they were warned before the prank about me), that retaliation is going to come. Those boys expected retaliation. They were diligent about locking doors and windows and being nice to us. Little did they know, that we were playing it cool. Waiting for the night to come (four months later in the dead of a winter night), when we would strike back.
And strike back hard we did.
We hoarded supplies for months and the night of the dastardly deed we stayed awake till 4am. There were charts, and floor plans, face masks, costumes and if I'm remembering things properly, I'm pretty sure that one member of our dorm was sleeping and we practice-pranked/rehearsed on our own dorm, including the break in.
Here is a non-exhaustive list of what was done in under 4 minutes. (And may I add that they were all sleeping in their beds. When they stole our toilets we were all home for Easter break).
Tipped buckets of water against their bedroom doors
Syrup on all doorhandles and railings
Windows frozen open, thin layer of water on all linoleum floors aka ice rink)
Jello powder mixed into the toilet bowls
And the best, most hilarious thing we ever did do: Filled the cutlery drawer with salt water and a live lobster.
In retrospect we may have gone a little overboard. And they whined like mama's boys for weeks afterwards - it really put a sour note to our friendship that they couldn't handle getting back what they gave out, but you know what? Suck it up princess.
Morals of the story:
a - if you are going to prank someone, make it fun and not harmful.
b - if you are going to prank someone, you will get pranked back.
c - well planned out pranks can be hilarious if played on the right person at the right time.
d - I dominate at prank wars, so don't even cross that line unless you can take it.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Me and Jacci like 10 years ago playing tourist at the Sloman School on Wheels in my hometown of Clinton, Ontario.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
It's strange to think that I met them almost 10 years ago, and despite my trampsing around the globe, and my home in beautiful British Columbia, we are still good friends. Friends that laugh, and talk and visit, and pray for each other and send love out across the miles.
I'm so blessed to have these two women in my life, and their husbands too, even though they tend to conveniently disappear whenever I visit so that we can have girl time together. I love that they still think of me and send me funny video's and packages and call me and keep me informed of their life. I'm not gonna lie, I get jealous that they get to see each other all the time, but then I think about how much sweeter our reunions are when we do get to get together.
Here are my top 10 favourite times in our friendship history.
1. the Krispy Kreme Snow Day. When school was cancelled (despite the fact that everyone lived within 200 meters of the school) and yet somehow the school's mission team made the drive from Burlington to Hamilton to deliver all the Krispy Kreme fundraiser doughnuts they had sold. We ate a lot that day. Christy ate more. Ridiculous things ensued. I remember a guitar string being turned into a certain type of hat, our mattresses in the living room, some royal rumbling, some wigs and hats from the drama department, and a few not-so-thought out impersonations of Jacob Moon.
2. Karmyn's wedding.
3. Karmyn's batchelorette party.
4. Meeting up with SB and Jacci last May for the funnest 6 hours of my life. A special thank you to Karmyn's hoarding skills and the fact that she had four years worth of Bod Books.
5. The epic prank on Mark Sinke's dorm. Included in this: staying up all night, hoarding jello for months, the lobster.
6. All the Redeemer banquets.
7. Winning the Hobbies for Hilltop auction - our limo ride and the cornish game hen dinner.
8. Fhwquhwgads, Bannana Hands and Trogdor.
9. When Christy didn't tell me and SB that she was engaged, but conveniently sat in our living room using her left hand for everything for an HOUR until we noticed the ring. And then we had conniption fits.
So this is my suggestion - nay, my challenge to you. Do you have a friend or two that you love? Keep them. Even if it is hard. Even if it is expensive. Even if distance separates you. Even if sometimes your lives are so totally different that it seems you have nothing in common. Persevere in your friendships. I have a group of people who I don't talk to often, but yet still remain my good friends. People I can call whenever, for fun, for help, for advice. It means a lot to me that they are part of my life. It means so much to me that I'm going to share their names on my blog. Because everyone know that to get a shout out on my blog is the highest honour anyone can achieve. Nobel prize? Pffft. Nikki's Blog? Hells yeah!
Dear Karmyn, Christy, SB, Jacci, Steven, Rob J.
I love you.
Thanks for being my always-friends.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Just because the calendar says it's spring, doesn't mean you can do spring things.
Let's say for example.... crossing a river. Barefoot. In shorts.
In retrospect, the fact that I could SEE ice chunks floating down the river, probably should have tipped me off that the water was going to be cold.
I just get so excited about ideas and goals. I was determined this spring, to walk over to Rabbit Island - which is an island in the middle of the Thompson River in Kamloops. There is no bridge there, and really there is nothing on it except grass, trees and some wildlife. It's a totally unused and inaccessible island in the middle of the city and in the spring, before the river rises from runoff, the north side of the river recedes probably close to 100m from where it is at high water. The river is so narrow, that at one point it is nearly possible to jump across a little creek (or so I thought) to dry land and then walk to the island.
The 'little' creek, was still a 7m wide chunk of river with a surprisingly swift current. It was however shallow (just above my knees), and on a glorious Sunday afternoon Bethany, Vanessa, our friend Scarlett and I climbed down the embankment, rolled up our pants and waded across what was left of the river.
At first it was like, "oh this water is cold" and then by the time we were stuck in the middle of the current in the river and still had 4 more meters to go, we were screaming "What were we thinking?!?!? This water is stinking cold! My feet. I can't feel them. No I can feel them. They BURN. Should my legs be burning?!?!?!?"
Anyways, we made it over. Explored the island and walked across it to the other side, were slightly disappointed that it really is just a boring chunk of land, and took our time heading back to the north side to walk back through the bitterly cold, ice-chunk carrying, river.
The good news is that I'm pretty sure the hair folicles in my leg are frozen, so I won't have to shave all summer.
The river generally reaches the line of trees you can see in the distance.
See. It's not even a little bit interesting.
Friday, March 18, 2011
I give Americans a hard time. I really do. In my mind especially. I think that I'm a product of very proud Canadian upbringing and that has caused me to 'hate-on' Americans probably more than I should.
I've had really good interactions with Americans (holla to my American friends in Romania and Casablanca!). They were always nice to me and I like them.
Why is it then, that whenever I expect to come into contact with my buddies to the south that I automatically put my guard up and expect rudeness? Have I watched (and hysterically laughed at) “Talking To American's" one too many times?
When I was on my disasterous trip to the States earlier this week, and my plans got thrown to the wind, and I was stranded in a pretty crappy city, I was doing my best to hold it together. Trying not to imagine being beside a hot pool as I slogged through miserable weather in an unfamiliar city as I searched for the items required for me and Bethany's survival in a foreign land (calling card, apple juice, and soda crackers). I was overwhelmed with caring for my sister (who BTW had food poisoning), being in a country I don’t fully appreciate, in an unknown area, with no cell phone. I was frustrated, overwhelmed, tired and trying to be the strong independent woman that I am. As I searched for my items I anticipated rudeness and bad attitudes and no help.
As I searched all around the Bellingham WalMart I started to get dismayed because there were no international calling cards. At all. My cashier was super friendly, helped me look for one (which they didn’t have) and Dr. Phil’d me (that’s right, I verbed Dr. Phill) and I spilled my whole story about the sickenss and the cancelled plans and the being from Canada. He got a manager to try to track down a calling card for me and when there wasn’t one in the WalMart he suggested another store, gave me excellent directions, told me some good soup broths to feed my sister and as I was leaving he slipped me his phone number as a personal security guard in case I needed help with anything. That is the type of kindness I needed that day. All week I’ve been thinking of, praying for, and praising God for Big Mike Sheri.
So Americans, I apologize to you. Especially the girl at store number 3 that didn’t have a calling card and I almost bit your head off in a panic. I’m sorry I think so badly of you. I still believe we won the War of 1812, and I still hold that you are not as awesome as Canada, but you are decent even if you did give us Lady Gaga.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Being a Border Control Guard.
Let's think about it. First of all they are trained and paid to be suspicious. Secondly they work in a tiny little box. Thirdly they never get to have actual conversations with people, just question and answer periods.
I really dislike crossing the border. I avoid America whenever I can, partly because crossing the boarder is stressful and partly because the good ol' U S of A is not really that amazing. My country invented insulin, nuclear weapons, hocky AND Ryan Renolds, so I'm sorry, but it's pretty hard to beat that list.
I have to go to the USA twice in two weeks, one for my vacation that never happened, and again next weekend to pick up the Kamloops Christian School Guatemala Missions Team from the airport in Seattle.
Going through the border bugs me because I am the LEAST suspicious person on the face of the earth. I wear Jeans and hoodies, I work in a church and Christian school, I'm a small town girl that does'nt do anything remotely dangerous or questionable. And yet... every time.... somehow they just don't like me and I get asked way more questions than I think are necessary. Am I really so shifty that you have to ask me 36 more questions than you asked the guy in front of me? Or is it just that I am so fascinating that you want to get to know me better?
It also stresses me out that they ask the questions so fast so they can try to get you to make a mistake.
Usually the problem arrives going into the US. One time in college on the way to a wedding in Philedelphia, the guard was so suspicious that a group of 7 friends all knew the SAME person and were going to the SAME wedding, and that one of the boys played the cello, that we almost had to get the cello out and play it to prove that everything we were saying was true.
This time the stressor was coming back into Canada. I hand the guard our passports.
Where's home? Kamloops
How long were you in the US? About a day and a half
Purpose of visit? We were supposed to fly to Vegas but my sister got sick so we couldn't go.
Where were you going? Vegas
Where did you stay in the US? Bellingham
What hotel? Holiday Inn
How much did you spend? About $100 between the two of us.
What hotel did you stay in in Vegas? We DIDN'T go to Vegas. We couldn't get on the plane so we stayed overnight in Bellingham. Now we are going home because our trip is cancelled.
Did you have reservations in Vegas, at what hotel? The Tropicana (By this time I'm wishing we still had that bag of barf in the backseat and asking him to throw out to prove the sickness excuse)
Do you have your airplane tickets? I have our boarding passes, will those work?
Yes. Let me see them. (I pass them over and our story is proven)
Have a nice day.
If I were in charge here is what my standard question list would look like.
Can I look at your passports please?
Canadien EH? Welcome home!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
That was a first for me. I can honestly say that I have never, in my life, been kicked off an airplane. I've traveled a fair bit around this world, but never have I ever been close to getting kicked off a plane, let alone be the one that the stewardess comes over to and says, "you're going to have to get off this plane, grab your carry-on and follow me please."
So what did I do?
Let me tell you the whole story.
It all started about a year ago when Bethany and I got it into our heads that we really wanted to go to Las Vegas. It just looked like such a fun place. We don't gamble, but we like to see and try new things. We decided that after she graduated from university, we would find a cheap trip online and go. I found an *amazing* deal at Bing. com (great prices, great website, excellent telephone customer service minus the ridiculous wait times). $309 for four nights in a hotel and flight from Bellingham. How can you say no to a deal like that? We booked it.
We spent 3 weeks researching all the really cool things to see and do in Vegas, rented a car for one day so we could drive around, looked up free things, exchanged money, got music ready for the drive, picked out a trip theme song (Cha Ching by Hedley), we packed, bought new running shoes, cleaned out the car and talked about nothing except our trip.
Sunday afternoon we drove to Abbotsford through a wicked snowstorm - which made our vacation plans that much better. (Ohhhh those suckers in Canada, with the snow, this time tomorrow we will be hot and by a pool. YESSSSSS score one for vacation time!). We stopped at Swiss Chalet (Kamloops looses 900 cool points for not having one and making us drive to the coast to get a quarter-chicken-dinner-white-meat-and-fries), and then went over to my friend Robyn's for the night.
Had a great time with Robyn. Who is hilarious. We met in college and after a brief lapse in friendship (she disappeared and then I did), we randomly met again at the ACSI Teachers Convention in October. Anyways. I love Robyn. And I love that we got to stay at her place, and hang out and laugh and look at old pictures, and laugh. Did I mention that we laughed?
Bethany and I went to sleep in good time so that we would be up and ready to leave for Bellingham by 6am. (Which to my body was 5am because of the recent time change).
At 3:30am I heard Bethany throwing up in the Bathroom.
At 3:45am " "
at 4:00am " "
at 4:45 am " "
at 5:15am " "
at 5:50am " "
We drove to the airport in Bellingham (pulling over 6 times), and I waited in the ticket line while Bethany slept on the bench. As we went through security I made her fake being ok so that we would get through. We got all the way on to the plane and *just* before taxing down the runway (literally, within 1 minute - the seatbelt sign was on and the stewardess had the seatbelt demonstration ready in her hand) Beth threw up again. And they kicked us off the plane.
We had to make a decision - try to take a later flight, or one the next day, or postpone indefinitely. Bethany (who by the way hasn't been sick since infancy) was in no state to travel, so we postponed indefinitely. The thought of driving anywhere, let alone back to Kamloops just about made Beth have a meltdown, so I got us a hotel in Bellingham and while she spent the day barfing (literally 30 times), I kept myself occupied finding cup-of-soup, soda crackers, apple juice and an international calling card. I cancelled our plans, walked to Barns and Noble, went in the hot tub, watched tv quietly and felt bad for my sister whom I love a lot.
Bethany slept for 20 hours straight. STRAIGHT. No waking up except to puke. In the morning she was better (not 'better' but comparatively better than on Monday). We drove back to Kamloops. Where it was snow-raining. :(
I should be more disappointed than I am. It does suck that I'm in Kamloops, in March, in the rain. But really, travelling is not relaxing. Now I have an extra week of just kicking back and doing whatever (starting my garden seeds, painting a picture, practicing music, church work, sewing, hobbies, letters etc.). AND I have a fairly strong sense that God really didn't want us to go to Vegas this week. I had a nightmare about going earlier this week (and I really believe God speaks to me in my dreams), and I just really have felt peace about not going. Peace and 'ok-ness' about not going, when I should be really sad, disappointed and angry. As I was thinking about this when we were driving back into Kamloops there was a massive rainbow going over the hills and the valley. Rainbow are a sign of promise. God will never leave me, or forsake me. He has a plan. Which reminds me that while Beth was being sick, I was watching Criminal Minds and Dr. Spencer Reid quoted "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." Maybe these were all signs. Who am I to know what might have happend there? Good or bad? Or what might happen here that I need to be around for?
Anyways, that's the basic story. Look forward to the next few posts:
Why Bellingham Sucks
Why TARGET is not actually that great
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A Poem for Miss. Gerrits
Miss. Gerrits is my teacher,
As great as can be,
She is a hard worker,
As straight as a tree.
She teaches us things worth learning,
And gives us lots of “A’s”
She leaves us all yearning
To learn something cool today.
She is the smartest teacher,
And a Christian too.
She is a great teacher
She always pushes through.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
It was too late to do anything for reals, but just a little bit too early to go to bed. That means it was 8:30pm, because we are lame and go to bed at 9. But what to do from 8:30 till 9? We could not think of anything. And there was nothing on tv. Nothing except a documentary entitled something like 'How Our Earth Was Formed by Athiest's.' That's a lie. It did not say 'by athiest's' But they definitely were not Christians.
Was it an interesting watch? Not so much.
But it's great when you and your sisters can make ANYTHING funny, even boring things. Like lame documentaries that are most likely made up.
We've recently been introduced to a new 'tv game.' Basically, the goal of the game is to ask someone who is really into a show, the stupidest, most annoying questions. For example, if I'm watching Criminal Minds, the line of questioning will go something like this, in very rapid succession. No pausing between questions.
Is Derek Morgan a bad guy?
What's going on?
Why do they have guns?
When is Sue Thomas going to have a scene?
What kind of car is that?
Is this the show with Zoey Busak?
My favourite character is Horatio, who is yours?
Those of you who watch Criminal Minds or any other cop drama will realize that Grissom, Sue Thomas, Zoey Busak and Horatio are from different shows, that's why the line of questioning is so funny.
Here's our line of questioning for the documockery 'How The Earth was Made Over The Course Of 80 Bajillion Years And Dinosarus Survived All Natural Disasters and Plagues Including Cancer And Aids"
Wow! Is that true?
What kind of Dinosaur is that?
Where's George of the Jungle?
How did they get that live footage of the dinosaurs?
I wonder if the cameraman is scared...
How could they POSSIBLY know that?
It's amazing that the cameraman just happened to be there when that stumpgrasauras attacked that poor tollifigiopalentolosaurus! Talk about luck! Do you think he gets paid more for getting unique shots?
I'm worried, they just said "Dinosaurs are taking over the earth," do you think they are on their way to Kamloops too?
Play the game.
It's REALLY funny.
Especially if the person you are with loves their show and flips out at your non-stop questioning.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
This post is a shout-out to my little sister who graduated university yesterday!!!! Wahooo!
If you have ever been past the seventh grade, you have probably been to a graduation. If you have siblings or cousins or friends, you probably have been to more than one graduation.
Agree or disagree with me, but graduations are b.o.r.i.n.g. And I'm not going to lie. I only went to Bethany's because a) I love her, b) she begged me and c) I was promised free cake afterwards.
As far as graduations go, Bethany's was the same as all the other ones. The professors talked too long about boring things while the audience pitty laughed politely when they tried to make jokes. Bethany was the first one to get her diploma and in order to liven the run-of-the-mill ceremony, me, Vanessa, Jane and Louise shouted, hooted, and hollard for an obscenly embarrassing long time. It kept us entertained, embarrassed Bethany to no end, and made all the other cheering sections for the other graduates look weak.
Because Bethany was first, there was really nothing else to look forward to (except the cake obviously). Listening to the names of the other graduates and watching them take their sweet time going across the stage (was it really necessary for each graduate to hug each professor before the next name was called?), was ... well.... boring. Vanessa and I had some hilariously hushed discussions about thongs (and yes, you CAN tell if someone is wearing one graduate number 7), and about how it was gravitationally impossible for graduate number 47s boobs to be that perky! I'm not saying it to be a jerk, or to be judgemental, or to be mean. I'm just saying: How do you get them that high?????? I'm baffled. And perplexed. I'm bafflexed.
Anyways, I sat there, I got my free cake, and was proud that Bethany completed her program.