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September 3, 2015

It takes a long time to grow up with a good chance that it will never happen for some.

Morning Story and Dilbert

Morning Story and Dilbert Vintage Dilbert
August 24, 1994

In my high school, one of the most popular cliques was a group of ten or so preppy, sporty, attractive girls who splatter-painted white Juicy Couture jumpsuits that said “Seniors ’08” in their senior year and wore them around school every other Friday.

They were dubbed The Jumps at graduation. When I heard this I almost died with laughter and then practically dissolved into tears.

“Oh no,” I thought, “I had witnessed a stereotypical high school experience; With clique names and everything. Oh the shame.”

I was under the impression that traditions like this would be replaced in college by “real” groups of friends who enjoyed each other’s company and bonded in healthy friendship and happiness forever and ever.

My first week at College was a whirlwind of sleepless “New Student Week” excitement. I made good friends with my peer advisor, a girl named Michelle.

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