I feel like I'm cheating on EBEW, linking up an outfit I wore last week. However, I have a 24 hour delay on my posts, which means Monday's outfit gets posted Tuesday, and I didn't read about the EBEW challenge for the month until Monday morning, after I'd already snapped pictures. Rather than waking up at the crack of dawn to put on bright tights, specifically the ones I'd worn last week, I cheated. And then told all of you about it. Can you tell I was rarely the type to do anything bad in high school? I can remember in Grade 11 History, we had map tests, where we had to label various countries in the world and place their capital cities. I believe we were on Africa one day when I forgot about the quiz, and we had a substitute. When she said: "Put your books on the floor," I "accidentally" dropped my agenda open to the map of the world. Unfortunately, the print was too small for me to see, ruining my first and only chance at cheating on anything important*. Fortunately, the majority of the class was caught cheating, and so we had a re-test a few days later, for which I was most prepared!
the last interview which was, of course, a giant failure. Plus, the office is beside a really great toy store, and just down the street from a fabulous vintage clothing store, so I may have peeked into both before getting myself horridly lost looking for the bus to go home.
*I'm not saying I was immune to the occasional borrowing of one's grammar answers minutes before class and scribbling them down, having forgot the assignment and knowing it wasn't for marks. The teacher did do daily homework checks, and she noted how messily written my answers were on one particular day. She even brought it up with my parents at teacher-interview day, being very confused as to why it would look like I had done my homework on a bus when I lived just a block from the school. I can't really tell if she was being glib, or whether she actually had no clue what had gone on in the hall just minutes before that class. I dated her son for almost three years after high school and never once got up the nerve to ask her. She was scary as an English teacher, but she was even scarier as the mother of a boyfriend. Hmm, remembering her makes me want to go find my mother-in-law and give her a giant hug.