Category Archives: small town living

Catch Up.

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I know I’ve been doing a lot of these but I’m busy, leave me alone. I’m going to do a catch up on my life post again. So here’s the run down on what’s going on.

My chest got stared at and my butt touched, by different men, a week and a half apart and one should not have done what he did. One of my residents told me we were sisters and was disappointed when I told her my brother was married with 2 kids. I got a new computer, which I can’t get on the internet with yet because my parents don’t have wireless. I guess I’m going to Budapest now instead of the Czech Republic. My nephew graduated kindergarten, niece turns 5 next Tuesday. Today is my last shift at the nursing home for a month. I fly to training on Sunday. I’ve helped move equipment from field to field, emptied a pickup of seed bags and been under the drill helping to free it from twine.

Let’s explain some of those things now.

The company I’m working for sent me an email, that I saw yesterday because I’m busy and can’t check my email every day, and told me there’s not enough teaching spots in the Czech Republic. I’m pretty disappointed. I’ve been preparing myself, my heart for this and falling more in love with the country for 8 months and now I have to switch my thinking around in less than half that time. I mean, I’ll deal with it and the company can’t help what the schools want. But there’s been tears about this. But I’ll get over it.

I went shopping yesterday. If you’re Facebook friends with me you know I’ve started to pack for my training. I also said that I felt like I had no clothes for this. So as much as I hate it, I went shopping yesterday and spent way more than I like. You also know that MJ and I had a conversation on a post I had about going shopping. I hate shopping. I’m not a girly girl so going shopping is like pulling teeth. MJ and I have also have discussed me getting into a dress or skirt. She wants to get me in a skirt so bad. She’s trying to get me to be a girly girl. Trust me, if MJ had her way, I would be in dresses and skirts and heels all the time. I’ll take my jeans, tee shirts and boots, thank you very much. So yesterday, to torment MJ, I sent her a selfie of me in a skirt. She still doesn’t know if I bought it or not. If I knew that MJ wouldn’t be reading this post, I would give a definite answer if I bought it or not. But I’ll never tell. Is trying on a gateway drug for me being a girly girl? Hope not. I also got a computer yesterday, but like I said, can’t use the internet on it yet.

So the last post (I think the last post) I talked about the guy that said “Sooooo, you’re a woman”. I mean, I’m not a girly girl but it is kind of obvious that I am of the female gender. Caught him staring at my chest the other day. Awkward. Then he was disappointed to hear that I was leaving. I may be misreading this guy, but is he into me? I hope not. I’d most likely break his heart. No, not most likely, I would break his heart. Poor guy. Fall out of love with me. We’re not made for each other. I promise. We’re too different. I’m to aggressive for you. (It’s weird to think I’m too aggressive for someone) You can find someone better than me. No one saw that coming from me right? Me saying that a guy should find someone else. Mark that down as a significant day in history. And this guy isn’t a bad guy. There’s just enough room for one awkward person and I have that semi-down. He’s not bad looking either. I’m just not interested. Let that be known. I’m not going to talk about the other incident because I don’t want to be pissed off again because that’s what happens when you touch my but and I don’t want you to. I get pissed. And the story could get people in trouble. I’ll must be quiet about it. I know only one person that knows what this reference means but I almost pulled a Brad on him when touched me. (I almost got violent.)

So along with working at the nursing home (last shift for over a month. YAY!) I’ve been helping at home. That means I get to drive a pickup around on country roads. I don’t think people realize how happy this makes me. If I could get a job from late April to about October driving a pickup around on country roads, I would take that in a heart beat. Especially if it’s an old pickup. Makes me even happier. See. Not a girly girl. I’d rather be in an old pickup with my hair up in a messy bun or in a pony tail driving around. Further proof that I need to marry a farmer. I’d totally move back to the farm full time if I could.

The kids are growing up. The nephew is now a kindergarten grad and the niece will be starting kindergarten in the fall and turning 5. The nephew continues to break my heart every time he’s excited to hang out with me and then asks me how many days he has left with me. I’m continuing to the love the niece even though, personality wise, we’re completely different and she drives me a little crazy every once in a while.

MJ and I have still been writing. It’s our drug. I joke that I’m the puppet master of this story because I plant ideas in her head and she goes all dramatic on her sections with these ideas and it’s making our story 1,000% better because my sections are lame sauce. There’s amnesia involved now and a super lame guy. I’ve used lame to describe this guy like a thousand times. He’s so lame. This story is turning into a soap opera. I’m convinced. Now MJ is taking a vacation down south and I’ll probably have to wait for an entry…… 😦 sad face.

So that’s the main things going on in my life. It sounds like a lot and it is but it’s all non-exciting things.

So there’s this car place in the area. It’s Kupper Chevrolet. Do you pronounce it Kupper like cup-her or coop-her? I’ve been pronouncing it cup-her. I’m wrong. It’s coop-her. What the eff? I’m pronouncing it right, everyone else is wrong. Sorry that was a random tangent. It’ll happen again.

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Mothers Day

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Today was mother’s day. I love my mommy. But I failed. I didn’t get my mom anything. Yesterday we went to go see one grandma and we went with my sister-in-law and the kids. I was sitting in between the kids and mom was going into the store. I yell at mom to get herself a card on me. Mom and the sister-in-law roll there eyes. I woke up this morning and told mom that I was going to make her a card but obviously nothing was going to be as nice as what she would have picked out for herself. She laughed. Does that mean I was right? I can be crafty but I’m sure that my card would have been lame. Being 26 and thinking about making your mother a mother’s day card can be lame. Pretty sure. But it is her fault for not following directions.

We went to go see the other grandma today. We stopped and went to church with my aunt and uncle and then we took grandma out to eat. When I got my first pair of boots in college, she saw them and told me that since I had boots, I was going to attract all the cowboys and now every time she sees me in boots she comments about how I don’t have a cowboy. I am aware of this. So we go back to grandma’s apartment and I’m looking around because the med that I’m on for my thyroid gives me this extra burst of energy and so I wasn’t sitting still. Behind me there was a newer looking card that said something to the extent of “Happy Birthday to my wife”. My grandfather, the one married to this grandmother, has been gone for about 33 1/2 years. He died of a rare blood disease a month and a half before his first grandchild. So I was confused. It’s not grandma’s birthday for another month or so and I know she kind of has a boyfriend in this complex. I say kind of because pretty sure it’s not official and grandma gets all huffy about it. So I was like “what if it’s from this guy? Did they secretly get married? Grandma getting married right before she turns 80? No. I need to be there for that wedding.” So I ask mom and dad if they know about a secret wedding. This card looked way to knew to be from 30 plus years ago. They didn’t know. We went to my aunt and uncles place for a while and so I asked my aunt. No, it’s a card still from my grandpa. It’s an incredibly sweet thing to have. This is almost a gross cute thing. This must have been the last birthday card grandma got. But a part of me was a little upset that grandma didn’t have a secret wedding. I don’t think that would set well with grandma’s children though.

After we left we stopped at this little restaurant we used to stop at when I was little. This place hasn’t changed since I was little. Same carpets, same restrooms that say ‘cowgirls’ and ‘cowboys’ on them, same red glasses. The same red glasses. These glasses epitomized eating at this restaurant when I was little. I had a rant about how amazing these red glasses were tonight. They were amazing. I still love them. I then told mom and dad what section we used to sit at all the time and the pictures haven’t changed a bit. Still looks like 1996 in these pictures. You have to love small town diners that never change owners or workers. Lots of memories there.

Tonight my brother and his family came over to give mom her a mothers day gift. The nephew looks at me and says “you’re going to be here for 10 more days.” I was a little confused so I had him repeat it and his parents and I kind of looked at each other like “What the hell is this child talking about?” Then it dawned on me. I had explained to him a few months ago that I was going to be living at grandma and grandpa’s for awhile, or at least until he was a first grader. He graduates kindergarten in 10 days. That’s where he got that. Geesh. That kid.

So I’ve been doing some editing to the story MJ and I are telling. Do you hear that MJ? I’m editing and adding. I’m trying to pull my weight in this story. Trying is the key word there. We decided that we aren’t ready to leak this story to public yet so no one gets to read it. But it’s amazing. Because we are amazing.

Yup

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Everyone has that couple friends that are gross cute. They’re that couple that are so cute they’re gross. They don’t mean it or get handsy or anything, they just are so in love that it’s gross. They do cute little things for each other and stuff. It makes you want to puke. Gross cute. MJ and I have been talking about this a lot lately. We’re writing and telling this story and one day I was worried about the one couple being gross cute. I also told her that I never want to be gross cute. Not that I have anything against being gross cute but it’s not who I am. I’m the somewhat sarcastic girl who’s a little direct. Gross cute is not what I do. But we’ll see what happens, if that happens.

So I got hit on the other night at work by a man in his upper 80’s. Awkward. So you have to know this guy is one of the most appreciative men ever. Never a bad word to be said, even when he’s sick he’s really positive and will give you a compliment. He’s the one that called me pretty one. So tonight, I’m getting him from his recliner to his wheel chair. He was pivoting, meaning that he stands and turns instead of getting hooked up to a machine to help him turn. So I’m standing in front of him and he’s turning and when he turns he’s a little hunched and you can’t be me and a CNA and not get in people’s faces when you pivot. You can’t do that and not feel comfortable that they’re not going to fall. So he’s turning and he goes well at least I have soft breasts to lay my head on. I was so concentrated on what I was doing that it didn’t hit me what was going on. And being who he is, I know he was being nice and being positive but it was so creepy. Then later I was helping him get ready for bed and I heard the lady next door ring her bell and I was a little unnerved by what had happened so I go out and the other CNA was about to go into the neighbor’s room. So I was like “S, let’s switch” and he’s like okay the original guy was his to get ready anyway. So later S the CNA goes, “Hey, thanks for getting him started.” and I go. “No problem, he said something that made me a little uncomfortable before so I was glad to get out of there.” The man that commented to me is so sweet that S the CNA corners me going into a store room to ask me what he said. So I tell him and I was like “I know he didn’t mean it as like weird, but it unnerved me.” Thank God for S the CNA. I was at the home unofficially yesterday and walked by his room and kind of shuttered. I’ll get over it.

So yesterday, Saturday, was family day at the home. I didn’t have to work but I was there because my grandma is in the home. First, I had CNA’s telling me I need to get my scrubs on, get my name tag and start working. NO! Then we ran to the store after the festivities were done. We went in with my sister-in-law and the kids (I was sitting in between the kids in the back seat of the pickup) and my mom was going to run in. I yell, “When you’re in there, pick up a mother’s day card for yourself from me.” Mom and sister-in-law just look at each other and shake their heads. It’s not an unusual reply is it? No….Yes, I should have thought about mother’s day before the day before. I fail as a child. So, my brother and sister-in-law built a house on the home place and my nephew and I planned for me to come over and play. We get home and he says. I’ll call you when to come over. So I take my contacts out, throw my hair up and put on a sweatshirt and I’m messing around then he calls. So I go over. You expect the kid to play with me right? Yeah, for like a half an hour. The rest of the time, I help him with his subtraction homework and hang out with my sister-in-law. Lamest play date ever. We need to work on that.

MJ and I are still utterly addicted to our story. We may need an intervention. Someone want to stage that for us? So tonight I go, I’m going to go to bed. So I take a quick shower, do my toe nails, start shaving my legs with my electric shaver and it dies so I go back on the internet. This all happens in like an hour an MJ has been working on her section for like 2 hours. This is us, more so her than me because I know I can edit she edits as she goes, we spend hours on our story. Makes us epic.

Panicky, Judgemental Kid.

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I was recently reading a blog and the guy said in high school he was the “nice, boring, judgmental Christian kid” and his wife was the exact opposite. I realize that was me without me realizing that was me. I was the “nice, boring, judgmental Christian kid”. I knew I was the nice Christian kid that was boring. But I didn’t realize until later I was judgmental. I’ve grown out of being judgmental to a point. I still have my moments. I think everyone has those moments. Others cannot always live up to our expectations. Weather it’s the way someone looks, does their job, treats their spouse. It’s kind of a judgmental world. We just have to have a thick skin. There’s that rant.

Now is when I’m going to start going on a random tangent. If some of this doesn’t make sense, I’m sorry. You’ll understand that I’m not making sense today.

I’m obsessed with checking my email these days. There’s so much coming to me. I have training starting in a month. It’s super scary. As much as I don’t enjoy working at a nursing home, I’m unsure of myself leaving now. When I moved home in January, I wasn’t scared. It was home. I was going to be starting work at the nursing home I’d hung out at all my life. (my mom’s worked at the home for years.) Life was good. Now I’m a month away from starting the scariest chapter of my life. (living halfway across the world in a city is a scary thing for a farm kid) It also doesn’t help that I have a sore throat and I’m being super womanly. (sorry, did that come out?) So I’m a little whiny.

In the story that MJ are writing, there’s this guy named Brad. Brad always tells Jane, his counterpoint, to keep treading water and she never understood why. Jane just assumes that it’s this little encouraging thing he tells her when he bought her this cheap souvenir. One night, he takes Jane to a beach and they’re overlooking the ocean. He points out a lighthouse he used to play at with his siblings and Brad tells Jane this tragic story about how his little sister died over there when they were kids and he felt guilty about not being able to save her. Brad then explains to Jane that’s why he tells her to keep treading water. He couldn’t save his sister, but if Jane keeps treading water and her head’s above the water, he can always save her. It’s a nice sentiment. MJ has used that line on me a few times in the recent past. I almost hate when the words I write come to haunt me.

Anyway. Point being is that there is light at the end of the tunnel and there is no need for me to panic. This will all work out. I will be fine. I’ve been telling myself that all afternoon. I really wish I had some wise advice about when one panics or is having a hard time. But the problem with that is, I have problems with that myself. I panic all the time and usually it’s over nothing. I don’t even have great coping methods to it. And I’m young. I know that I’m getting older but I still feel like a kid and haven’t figured out this whole wise thing. That’s probably a reason I panic as well, youth and inexperience.

But you know, looking at this leaving thing, it can be the most rewarding thing of my life. It’s all ready been rewarding because it makes me reflect on my home and the way I’ve been raised. My whole life, I have lived within 120 miles of home. I haven’t lived out of the state of North Dakota. Yes, I love my prairie and my Badlands and the farm. It is who I am. Those things are interwoven with who I am and they will help me when I leave. If you’ve ever been to southwestern North Dakota you look for the beauty of it. It’s not always obvious. But think of it. There’s gentle, rolling hills and rough buttes. Things that are rough but gentle. Things that I think I need as a person. I have been raised by a North Dakota farmer/rancher and nurse. That means I believe in the value of tough, hard work and the value of compassion. The love I have for my home and state will bring me back here but it also has taught me that I have nothing to be worried or panicked about. It has prepared me to leave and rejoice in my victories and provided people that will cry with me in my failures. This doesn’t mean that every other state isn’t beautiful or doesn’t give lessons to people that live there. These are just things I have realized that I’ve learned while I’ve been here. I’m saying I have nothing to be worried about. As long as I don’t forget who I am, I’ll be fine. I’m treading water just fine and might be able to save myself from the panic. Or trust God to do that.

Sarcastic. I’m Not.

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Yesterday was Easter. The day us Christians celebrate the day that our Lord and Savior rose from the day. It’s a good day. It’s also a day my family gets together and hangs out. The family was hanging out at our house. So Saturday, my mom and I are cleaning. Mom was cleaning the bathroom and I walk by, she hands me a Reader’s Digest and says, read the article that’s marked, you’ll appreciate. It’s written like you. I instantly roll my eyes but I sit down and start to read this article. It’s a story about this guy with a really hot wife. He’s kind of sarcastic. So I finish up and I hand the Reader’s Digest to my mom and I say. “I don’t have a wife and I never will and I’m not that sarcastic.” Mom looks at me from scrubbing the tub. “Yes you are.”

Yesterday, at supper, I was telling the story about the last time I got pulled over with the headlight after work to my aunt. So I’m telling this story and I bring up this article and I still insist I am not sarcastic. Everyone looks at me and says mmmmmhmmm. I am not sarcastic. I’m not. Well, maybe I have a line or two. But I’m not fluent in it.

Also this weekend, before church yesterday, my friend-ish acquaintance, J came up behind me and gave me a hug. Now J is the other brother to 2 of my guy friends from high school. We also had some college classes together. It’s not that I don’t like J, it’s just I have a different relationship than I did with his brothers. So he gives me a hug and we start talking and my high school Sunday school teacher came up and we started talking about marriage and divorce. None of us have ever been married, so entertaining conversation, to be sure. The Sunday school teacher has a solution for divorce. You invite everyone that you did to your wedding to your divorce, you stand where you said your vows and you both state your cases on why you want a divorce. At the end, everyone gets a vote and the person that gets the least amount of votes, gets killed because in most vows, it’s until death do us part. So if you didn’t get the hint before, J and I will never be together. It doesn’t make sense, it would never work. So after this explanation of the divorce proceedings, J looks at me and says, “this is why we’d never be together. People like you more than me.” and he walks away. I call after him: “Good for me, bad for you”. On paper that sounds bad, but it really wasn’t. It was clever banter.

I also got a call this weekend from the museum’s security company. I’m still on the call list for the museum’s security stuff. I don’t want to be. So I called the museum this morning and the new manager picks up and I was all like “Hey, it’s Megan, I got a call from the security company this weekend, can I get off that list?” “Yeah, we’ll take care of that. Bye.” and she hangs up. It was totally awkward. I wish the part-timer picked up, she likes me. I don’t want this to be awkward, I want this to be okay. With the way this conversation went, she either doesn’t like me or things are awkward or she was in the middle of something. I want it to be the last thing there.

MJ and I are still writing, we had a writing session last night. It was epic. I did have an awkward moment last night where something came out super dirty and I couldn’t fix it. So I stopped. It was actually about sex and one of our characters. If this character were real and we were married, I would have sex with this character. And as awkward as that last statement was, the comment last night was even more awkward. It was bad and then I try to fix it and I was like, let’s forget that happened. MJ said, Kind of hard, that was kind of a big deal. Well, at least I can be awkward with her and it’s somewhat okay.

Mildly Independent.

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I like to consider myself mildly independent. I can handle things on my own and know when to call for help. I can check my oil, can take the car in when it needs oil, I can fill a mildly low tire with air. I can do things for myself. It’s what being an adult is right? That’s what I’ve heard at least. Isn’t being an adult completely overrated? Like one day, I’m just enjoying some Disney VHSs and a juice box and the next day I’m deciding how much to pay back on my student loan and planning to travel half way across the world by myself. And let’s be honest, that has been my life. I do watch Disney VHSs and drink juice boxes and I am paying back my student loans and traveling by myself. And a person is never to old to enjoy a nice refreshing juice box. If there hasn’t been one invented, someone should invent little boxed alcohol. I know there’s boxed wine but seriously, other alcohol in travel size. I’m not an alcoholic. It’s just a thought. And talking about adult things, being married came up again the other night at work. Now, I’m single. I’m okay with that at this point because I have a lot going on. Ask me again in like 2 months, my opinion might change. But honestly, this is like the fourth time this, and by “this” I mean marriage, has come up at work in the past 2 months. Yeah, overkill on the subject? Yes. That averages a marriage bring up every 2 weeks. Who says I’m adult enough for marriage? Not me, most the time I’m kind of like a 5-year-old at home. Didn’t you just read about my juice box and Disney binges? My sarcasm sometimes suggests other ages. So in all honesty, my age is up for debate.

Anyway, last night, I get off of work at like 9:30 and I’m pumped to be leaving work that early and so I walk out to my car, turn it on, make sure my music isn’t to loud to wake the dead and I pull away. Almost immediately I know I have a flat tire. And not just a flat tire that can be fixed with a little air, a majorly flat tire that would demand me to put a lot of air in it. I know that I live in a small town, with not so many options, I call my parents. There’s a reason for me not just filling the tire. I know it needs to fixed and because I don’t know how to change a tire. This is the second time that this has happened since I moved home so I called mom and dad and told them what was going on and where I was parked. So okay, they’re on their way to help me. Now I was expecting my mom to pop in with the car to help me. Nope, it was my daddy with the pickum-up-truck. Or the pickup, which ever you want to call it. And he changes my tire. Not only do my father and I share a sense of humor, he comes and saves the day by changing my tire. And to top it all off, it started to rain, making life that more dramatic. Because let’s face it, rain makes things dramatic. Even if it is just a sprinkle.

I know that there is nothing wrong with asking for help and not everyone knows how to change a tire, but in a weird way it feels like my mild independence is gone. I have survived out of my parents’ house for almost 8 years and then I need help with getting a tire off and replace it. Even though, I live in a very small town, I should have figured out a different solution or figured out how to change it myself….but my mommy and daddy like me…..

So this morning I dyed Easter eggs. Pretty excited about that. For no reason because most of those eggs are going into a potato salad my mother has all ready made. So there was no joy other than spending time with the niece and nephew this morning in this. No cracking the shell or anything. Disappointing. The other day my nephew was here and was going to leave. I asked for a hug. “Yeah, first Grandpa, then Grandma and then you. Save the best for last.” If only I could love that child a little more. I also came to the conclusion that even though I love the niece to bits, she is a loud child. Like you can’t hear yourself think when she’s in the vicinity. Did not get that from my side of the family. Those kids do keep me young. Maybe that’s why there’s such a debate on my age in my head.

Future Thank You Speech to Me.

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So I went on a walk today with my mother. We were walking in silence and a lot went through my head. Like how much I love my prairie, how nervous I am that I’m going to have to leave it one day. Then I started thinking about my niece and nephew, my nephew in particular because we’re a little bit closer. I was thinking about when he gets to be 18 and is graduating high school. At this school, same one that all three of us kids graduated from, the graduation ceremony is run by the class. Students do the welcome, the class memories speech, the ending, the poem that the English teacher wrote are all done by the students. The Valedictorian and the Salutatorian also do a speech. I started planning out my nephew’s speech when he’s thanking me for all that good advice when he’s Valedictorian or Salutatorian because I’m a little weird like that and I needed some thing to think about. So here’s what I had in my head/hope that I pass on to both kids and my kids and any future nieces and nephews.

Thank you to Aunt Megan for not necessarily telling me, but showing me about what passion, love and helping people really is. Thank you for showing that love for people doesn’t start or end with blood relation, it starts with a seed and extends beyond our back yard. It also extends color, religion and ethnicity. Love knows no bounds. Thank you for showing me that sarcasm and wit are good things that can help you make friends but are dangerous things when used at inappropriate times. I have to admit that I had to learn that lesson the hard way. Thank you for being not just my aunt but my friend, my confidant and my “don’t tell mom and dad” go to. Thank you to you and that sister of yours ratting me out when I was 6 and making me telling mom that I cut my hair on Christmas Day. I still haven’t lived that one down. Probably never will but it lets me know that you are invested in my life. You wouldn’t tell me random things if you didn’t. I’m also counting on that $100 when I get married. Make sure the check’s good.

I remember going to the hospital the day my nephew was born and falling in love with him the second I saw him and watching my brother be a new dad and seeing the excitement and nervousness in my brother (and my sister-in-law) and being excited for him and being nervous myself. I was nervous because I know that being an aunt can be a great responsibility. It still makes me a little nervous because I know those kids look at to me and I don’t want to disappoint or slip up. Six and a half years later I’m nervous still. Can we just see me being a parent? I would be in fear a lot. I also remember thinking when I saw him that I was the aunt that the kids would get into trouble with. I’m still holding true to that. Little unknown fact that when my sister-in-law was pregnant, Bucky Covington was just starting to be played on country radio and he was being played to the point I couldn’t stand him because the western tourist trap I was working at was playing him all the time. It was sickening. I remember being in the pickup with my brother and telling him that if they had a boy and they named him Bucky, I was coming up with a cooler name but if they didn’t I would could him Bucky. They didn’t, I didn’t. I do call him Munchkin though. He likes it. He actually just requested that I call him that instead of being grouped in with his sister and being called a kiddo. The point being that I want to make a difference in these kids’ lives and it scares me that I’ll just be the aunt. I’m working on that.

Let’s just say that if I had to write speeches for high school seniors, I would rock at it. Maybe. It would be entertaining at least.

Have I ever told the story about my graduation and the bet? I think I have. Here it is for good measure. The valedictorian and the girl that read the class poem sat next to each other and made a $2 bet that the other would cry during their speech. The guy valedictorian gets up (with a real flower boutonniere) and starts crying and blames the allergies that he doesn’t have. The girl gets up tells everyone about the bet and he just lost and starts reading and then starts crying. Guy stands up and starts clapping because they both lost. Great story though.

On a different subject I watched “The Great Gatsby” last night. I haven’t read that book. Why haven’t I read that book? I maybe a little obsessed with it now. I have to get this book. I think I’ve looked at it and thought it wasn’t my kind of book, now I’m thinking that I was wrong. I may love it. I must read this. Then. Then I went on GoodReads to add it to my list and saw that most everyone that I have as friends there has it added and read. We didn’t read this book in high school. Isn’t this book supposed to be on high school reading lists everywhere? I had to read stupid Animal Farm. Stupid book about communism.