An update is in order I believe. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU GRADUATE WINNERS!  I have a small tale to tell of Howard High's graduation. The joyous occasion happened on Wednesday, btw. Of course, I should be doing something useful such as filling out financial aid but... my friend, Xanga, and other close friend, Paint, cannot be denied any longer. Now begins my tale: The Graduation and My Shoe Ahem. Once upon a time, I graduated from high school. The graduation went smoothly for the most part. Well, except for one little thing. I didn't go that smoothly. A few days before graduation, I had a minor spastic incident about my shoes. For practical purposes, I did not have any white shoes. The administration kept on warning us about not wearing white sandaled heels because we would trip and fall, embarrass ourselves, and die. Who cares what the administration says, right? REBEL! REBEL!!!!! So why was I still concerned? Because I am Godzilla on heels. Fear me. Back to the graduation, us girls were marching up the ramp next to the stage. The ramp led to the backstage where we would wait to go onstage to recieve our diplomas. On the ramp was an awful, awful metal grate.
Have you guys seen The Wedding Planner with J.Lo? Remember the part where she gets her stiletto stuck in a sewer and she almost gets run over by a car? Yeah. Welcome to The Wedding Planner: Graduation Style
I kept on walking until I finally noticed that the landscape was bobbing up and down, which, I take, doesn't happen on a normal basis. So I ran back to the grate, and raised hell, looking quite attractive, like this:
Yes, yes, cross-eyed and crab-legged and everything. I chose that moment to go temporarily insane and instead of politely asking for help with "Can you guys please help me get my shoe out of this grate?", I chose to squat and yell like a mental case, "Shit! My shoe! Shit! My shoe! Shit! My shoe!", over and over again. Of course, the "shits my shoes" were punctuated by guttural grunts since the damn shoe refused to come out of the grate.  And there was a backup in the procession because of yours truly. =___=" Then the mothers next to the backstage door started laughing at me. Ha. I believe I don't really have to mention that I caught the attention of a few people in the audience. So the moral of the story, kids, is to avoid metal grates when you're in heels and graduating. Or just duct tape your shoe to your foot. | 
