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She then proceeds to badger the sister who's preffing her, repeatedly asking exactly what number she is on our bid list and wanting to know whether or not she's getting a bid. During the Pref ceremony, she sits slumped in her chair, picking petals off the rose we gave her. Then after the ceremony, she starts up again with the "What number am I on the bid list?" thing.
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And that's about all I have to say about that.
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History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes.
Mark Twain
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