So I Graduated…
One of these things is not like the other.
…with a BFA and a boyfriend. If only my bra size were a B I could think of some witty boob joke about how they are all related. My dad informed me that BFA actually stands for “big fucking asshole.” So I guess there could be some correlation between the first two items on my B list that I actually have; as for the last I will continue to fit the girls’ size butterfly print bras from Kohls. Just kidding, no on shops at Kohls anymore.
I have been a grad for just a few days now and its pretty much the same as any other day, just more hungover. Graduating college feels like waking up on a Sunday morning, only everyday is Sunday- and you have to work on the weekend.
Everyone hopped on the band wagon for the last week of undergrad classes, being all sentimental and shit. Yeah, I am sure you will all miss two hour blocks of sitting on Facebook pretending to listen to a middle aged man lecture. Sounds like a weekend at home visiting my family.
The best part of graduation is all the random assholes I shared magical DFMOs (dance floor make outs, you newbs) , who I also believed to be my soulmates at some point, are getting the hell out of Michigan. Not just the school, but the whole damn state. An added perk for attending a University in a state ranked in the 10 least happy in the United States. Chances are that mean’s my main
bitch’s man’s exs are leaving too! That right there prevents like, five fights.
In other news I had stopped binge drinking since I have to work. If I went to the bar every time a friend texted me saying tonight was their last night, and I had to be there to help them use their thong as a hair tie while they puke… I still wouldn’t get any texts.
Worry not, for I am going to start drinking again because:
- Apparently, much like the transformation to womanhood that comes out of fucking no where in 8th grade at a cheerleading meet, I am supposed to use gchat now- not Facebook, and NO ONE TOLD ME THAT.
- Diet coke tastes like carbonated piss without rum.
- I will never have another summer again, and the next time I do get a chunk of time off like that will be for maternity leave.
- I just threw up some crazy in my mouth.
- The Walk of Shame Shuttle is real people, stop calling me from out of state unless you want an actual ride home in Ann Arbor. Boxes of wine can’t buy themselves.
- I will continue to do nothing right in a relationship. Now you know where I got the ‘shit’ from.