Mike’s Graduation


Today was Mike’s graduation and I had intended the theme of my orientation towards this momentous occasion to be a hybrid between nurturing, sophisticated older sibling and proud best friend. That being said, you cannot equip me with kiddy-crayons, drawing paper, and unlimited wine refills during a formal luncheon and expect my behavior to in any way reflect my age. I began polite enough, quietly sketching a lovely blue mountain scene on my corner of the paper table cloth (compliments of Macaroni Grill). One sangria and two pino grigios later, things had taken a turn for the worse… I had covered my end of the paper in all kinds of obscene profanities that would make even the most laid back waiter blush and couldn’t stop giggling at my inscription of the words, ‘Cary is a twat’ in big blue letters on one whole corner of the table (which I repeatedly poked Cary to show her, since that was funny as shit to drunk Mary)….Poor Care-Bear even had to deal with my trying to establish a game of footsies with her (sadly, when I’m drunk, there is only a very fine line between a hot peice of ass and next of kin)…After lunch, I said the word ‘twat’ a few more times in the van, giggled uncontrollably, apologized profusely for not being able to stop giggling, and then passed out. Regardless, my lack of poise and class shouldn’t cloud the facts: I’m so incredibly proud of Michael and I’m all about days like these where I get to feel myself swell up with such an overwhelming sense of unconditional love.


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