Act One: My Triumphant Return to Showbiz!
To keep everyone aprised of stuff, I was banned from the internet for almost a month. Only recently have I returned in a blaze of glory to this important medium. I was elected into Student Council. My full title is: The Honourable Jordan Aulden XXXXX, First Minister of Communication, Supreme Lord of the Galactic Empire, Omnipotent Being of the Fringe World, All-Around Cool Guy.
For short, you can just call me Jordan.
Act Two: Grad
The Graduation Ceremony was relatively painless.
There was a bit of confusion regarding when to stand and when to sit, but otherwise the whole event went off without a hitch. It was enjoyable. I was awarded a bursary from the Royal Canadian Legion worth $500 dollars to be redeemed three months after my enrollment in a post-secondary institution. I also received two $100 checks for having the highest mark in Discrete Mathematics and Geometry, as well as the highest mark in English. These awards left me literally brimming with pride. Unfortunately for me, I missed out on the Writer’s Craft award by one percent. Brett Kelly (the girl who beat me) offered to split her winnings with me, and after chuckling at the idea, I declined. She made the suggestion with six beers in her. I’m not the type to take advantage of a drunken person, in any shape or form. Besides, she’s a good writer. She earned that award, fair and square.
I felt proud when I was handed my diploma. Although, it also left me a little crestfallen. On the one hand, it provided a deep satisfaction in the sense that all the work of the past four years has finally paid off in a few pieces of paper that opens a great many doors. On the other hand, it generates a deep sorrow concerning the loss of some of my classmates. No doubt, Binkle will respond to this with the undeniable fact that 75% of the people are returning. This is flawwed.
First, 75% are not returning. 75% are just not going to university or college. Some of that 75% are going into apprenticeships, some are travelling, some are just taking a year off to work. Second, the people staying aren’t my friends. The people leaving are my friends. It would be nice to leave with them. As things stand, I am socially inept. What chance do I have of establishing new friendships at St. Mikes? It isn’t likely to happen. I’ll probably just hang out with Josh and Brian. They’re cool.
But, back to the ceremony. I found it funny when Dianne won her award. Although she didn’t know which award she won, as the description of the award was read out, she kept grinning bigger and bigger. I chuckled to myself at the sight. It was certainly better than when a few of the other awards had been announced and she had looked broken-hearted. Curse suspense! Curse you!
The highlight of receiving diplomas was when I was told (after the fact) that Monica van Schaik let out a friendly “whoop” when I went up to receive my diploma. That’s reassuring to know that some people in the student body care. Thanks Monica.
The afterparty was pretty good. I drove up with Binkle. On the way there, we pulled over to help some girls who were stranded by the side of the road. Some girls from Ohio, or Idaho or something. I don’t know. They mentionned where they were from, and I made some joke after. We laughed. Then they said they had someone coming to help them, so we went back to the car.
We got lost on the way to the party. First, we drove to far. We were told it was between a gas station and Wildwood. As we drove past Wildwood, we realized something was wrong with our current travel plan. So, we turned back and pulled into the wrong house. Turned out we had stumbled into a twelve-year-olds birthday party. After getting directions from the pedophile fearing mother of these kids, we found the party. Hurray!
Everyone was trying to get Binkle drunk. It was pretty funny. Dave MacLennan was intoxicated before we got there (the laymen’s terms used are ‘sloshed’, ‘pissed’, or ‘wasted’). Jenny Joye (apparently an alcoholic since the third grade) pushed Binkle into drinking, and insisted on apologizing for not knowing me. I wasn’t overly concerned.
I talked with our valedictorian, commending her on her speech. I have to admit, for something she wrote the morning before graduation, the speech was pretty damn good. Monica van Schaik took a picture of me (only God knows why she would want one). As she tried to take a picture of someone else, she kept leaning back into me. It felt really awkward.
Luke told us about his experience with a police officer. It was an interesting story, and had something to do with a body in the trunk. I don’t remember. The smoke from the fire kept bothering me. Dave Horst got extremely drunk, and was stumbling around all over the place.
I talked with Nikki Grobbecker about her university selections, and had a discussion with Brett Kelly about how she was very drunk, and how her boyfriend is, apparently, a stupid jock. This was when she offered me half of her Writer’s Craft winnings. The wierdest part of the conversation was when she put her arms around Binkle and I and said “This is where I belong.” Kind of bizarre, but hey, that’s alcohol for you.
After a while of being forced to drink, Binkle felt it necessary to leave. He kept saying that I looked bored, but that was actually the most I’ve socialized with anyone all year. I had a blast. But, if he wanted to leave, I had no objections. He was worried about the fireworks (which I think were fountain-type fireworks (no bang)) and the fact that someone was juggling and breaking beer bottles. This juggler was David Horst, and we gave him a ride home. In that sense, Binkle couldn’t be assured of his safety from the drunkard filled with glass shards. At least David and Travis sat in the back, while the sober thespian Binkle sat up front (he pretended to be drunk the whole night, and everyone believed him).
All in all, it was a great experience.
That’s all for now. I’m going to post this, and get cracking on another one about the summer, the two movies I’ve seen recently, and the majesty of Sin City.