I am a strong eighteen year old woman. I attend the number two party school in the nation. And my school is the place to be during the week of Halloween. People flock from all around Ohio to just stay one night in the city, and celebrate a holiday based on candy companies and being someone you can never be. Girls take hours getting ready to display their creative costumes, and guys cant wait to actually drink the beer that came out of the box they have spray painted black. The school also makes an unbelievable amount of money charging guests who want to stay for the weekend twenty five dollars. These guests will not take a shower or even turn on the lights. Instead, they will pass out on the cold tiled floor of their friend's cubicle... I mean room.
I am a mixture of samhainophobic and maskaphobic.
I am terrified of Halloween, which is rather ironic because I attend a school that lives, breathes, eats, and shits Halloween. More specifically, I am terrified of masks. I cannot stand next to anyone in a mask. I cannot watch someone put on a mask. I cannot be near someone in a mask. It freaks me out. I begin to shake uncontrollably, and feel as if I am going to completely regurgitate the lack of food in my stomach. It could be because I want to know who is talking to me, or because I like to watch people's mouths when they talk. It could be because mask's mouths do not move, or even because masks deform people's identities.
The last reason could be because of my past. When I was younger, My grandfather decided it would be a great idea to walk through our dark wooded backyard wearing a skeleton mask. It was alright, until I saw him peer in through the corner of my eye. I turned around to the large bay window that looked into the darkness of our backyard, and I saw a tall, stout man with a bloody skeleton mask. His hair was silver and down to his shoulders. He disappeared into the darkness. At this point I was screaming for my parents. The man jumped up in front of where I was standing near the window and I screamed.
We still have that mask. Every year, one of my family members thinks that it is hilarious to wear that mask around the house. Every year I get more and more afraid of masks, and more and more sure about staying indoors during Halloween.
This is my irony. This is my life.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wasted Washington - Emily
Wasted Washington. Thats what they call us. I am not the one to go out every night and party. In fact, I'd rather stay in the dorms with some of my crazy friends.
I believe the night started at about 11:30 when a girl, who recently drank herself into a coma, was carried home by a few very nice men. This girl was like a human doll. She was dead weight. If you were to completely scrape out someone's insides, but leave the bones and skin, fill the body with the same amount of weight as before, and use this new creation as a doll, you would have this girl. I'm not going to say how dumb this girl is because she now knows never to go out alone and drink same amount as the large man besides her. I would just like to take the time to appreciate the wonderful people I live with. Our RA's and RC are the most fantastic people I've ever met. They function in the worst situations on less than two hours of sleep. They must deal with at least twenty teenage girls or boys, talk to us about things that would embarrass our parents, and keep a straight face in times of severe emergency. These people are the strongest and most dedicated college students I've ever met.
Now back to the point, Wasted Washington.
That same night, our hall council decided to sell grilled cheese and hot dogs to unsuspecting drunks at two in the morning. This went from midnight to three in the morning. It began as a great activity, we were running around, getting orders ready, smiling, laughing, dancing, and glad we caught the waves of students high on our local drug of choice. Then we had a lull. People were either too drunk, or too broke to afford our one dollar hot dogs or grilled cheese.
This all changed when Walker came downstairs. Walker is a very attractive, and now very drunk, resident of our hall. Walker decided that because the food was very delicious and he was very hungry (partially due to the fact that he had nothing in his stomach because five minutes earlier, he vomited up all of his delicious cafeteria food). Walker proceeds from the staircase to the tables and asks for a grilled cheese, we respond, and begin to make his order. In the mean time, he is talking up a storm.
He praises us on the condition of our grilled cheese. And we all giggle. Next, he figures out that we were playing the questions game.
*Side Note* The questions game is defined as such : Everyone who is playing will make up several questions to put in a bowl. The questions can be awkward, sexual, disgusting, random, or emotional. Every person makes up as many questions as possible. After all of the questions are submitted, the bowl is placed in the middle of a circle, and one person draws a question. Everyone in the circle answers this question, and then the next person picks the question. This is repeated until no more questions are left in the bowl. *End of Side Note*
Walker then draws a few bad questions, and begs us to make up a good one for him. So of course, someone yells out "sexual fantasy".
"Ok. Now. My sexual fantasy is to have a girl on me, and I'm laying down, and she's sitting up. And she has this box of Cheese Its. So she is sitting there, throwing Cheese Its into my mouth. And I'd be like, "Thank you Cheese It girl! Thank you!"
Yes. Someone actually said that. But it gets better.
As he is thanking us for providing him with his grilled cheese, he shakes everyone's hands, but then as he says goodbye, he decides that our hall is a hugging hall not a handshake hall. He hugs everyone around the lobby, and then gives us the following speech:
"While I have to go now, I'd love to be a part of this great club you all have. If your meetings are on Sundays at nine, just like you said, I can be there. Just give me a call. Just call Walker Anderson, and I'll be there. No. Call me once, No, call me twice. Because I'll be on my way. Good night. And good luck."
Before he returned back to his room, we all gave him a round of applause and he donated a dollar to our hall council so he did not have "itchy toilet paper on his tush".
I love college.
I believe the night started at about 11:30 when a girl, who recently drank herself into a coma, was carried home by a few very nice men. This girl was like a human doll. She was dead weight. If you were to completely scrape out someone's insides, but leave the bones and skin, fill the body with the same amount of weight as before, and use this new creation as a doll, you would have this girl. I'm not going to say how dumb this girl is because she now knows never to go out alone and drink same amount as the large man besides her. I would just like to take the time to appreciate the wonderful people I live with. Our RA's and RC are the most fantastic people I've ever met. They function in the worst situations on less than two hours of sleep. They must deal with at least twenty teenage girls or boys, talk to us about things that would embarrass our parents, and keep a straight face in times of severe emergency. These people are the strongest and most dedicated college students I've ever met.
Now back to the point, Wasted Washington.
That same night, our hall council decided to sell grilled cheese and hot dogs to unsuspecting drunks at two in the morning. This went from midnight to three in the morning. It began as a great activity, we were running around, getting orders ready, smiling, laughing, dancing, and glad we caught the waves of students high on our local drug of choice. Then we had a lull. People were either too drunk, or too broke to afford our one dollar hot dogs or grilled cheese.
This all changed when Walker came downstairs. Walker is a very attractive, and now very drunk, resident of our hall. Walker decided that because the food was very delicious and he was very hungry (partially due to the fact that he had nothing in his stomach because five minutes earlier, he vomited up all of his delicious cafeteria food). Walker proceeds from the staircase to the tables and asks for a grilled cheese, we respond, and begin to make his order. In the mean time, he is talking up a storm.
He praises us on the condition of our grilled cheese. And we all giggle. Next, he figures out that we were playing the questions game.
*Side Note* The questions game is defined as such : Everyone who is playing will make up several questions to put in a bowl. The questions can be awkward, sexual, disgusting, random, or emotional. Every person makes up as many questions as possible. After all of the questions are submitted, the bowl is placed in the middle of a circle, and one person draws a question. Everyone in the circle answers this question, and then the next person picks the question. This is repeated until no more questions are left in the bowl. *End of Side Note*
Walker then draws a few bad questions, and begs us to make up a good one for him. So of course, someone yells out "sexual fantasy".
"Ok. Now. My sexual fantasy is to have a girl on me, and I'm laying down, and she's sitting up. And she has this box of Cheese Its. So she is sitting there, throwing Cheese Its into my mouth. And I'd be like, "Thank you Cheese It girl! Thank you!"
Yes. Someone actually said that. But it gets better.
As he is thanking us for providing him with his grilled cheese, he shakes everyone's hands, but then as he says goodbye, he decides that our hall is a hugging hall not a handshake hall. He hugs everyone around the lobby, and then gives us the following speech:
"While I have to go now, I'd love to be a part of this great club you all have. If your meetings are on Sundays at nine, just like you said, I can be there. Just give me a call. Just call Walker Anderson, and I'll be there. No. Call me once, No, call me twice. Because I'll be on my way. Good night. And good luck."
Before he returned back to his room, we all gave him a round of applause and he donated a dollar to our hall council so he did not have "itchy toilet paper on his tush".
I love college.
Friday, October 22, 2010
I'm So Bad Ass - Emily
I guess now is the time to discuss why I think I'm a complete idiot. While I may or may not be terrified of needles, I may or may not have just signed up to give blood, which I may or may not be disgusted by. Oops. I guess this college thing has gone to my head. I mean, I just got absolute control over my life, and now I'm running wild. I'm wearing flip-flops in the rain, eating Triscuts for breakfast, sleeping over people's houses on a monday evening, and painting my nails dark colors.
I know these things to not seem completely badass to you, but they are to me.
Here is a play by play of my day before I give blood:
10:26 - I now have four hours until I conquer one of my largest fears ever. I am hydrating myself. I have finished my glass of V8, about to drink the left over "Fruitables" juice box from last night, and maybe have another juice box before I leave for math class. During math, I plan on guzzling down two bottles filled with water. I am not really nervous right now. I think I am just concerned about having a developing cold when I give blood. I have decided not to take any medication in fear that I may not be able to give blood.
1:10 - I now have about one hour before I run back to the dorm with just enough time to calm myself down enough to sit in a chair and give blood. Again I do not feel terrified, I only feel like I really need to pee about every five minutes. So far I have had, V8, two juice boxes, one water bottle, one glass of lemonade, and one smoothie. I am working on my second bottle of water and my third trip to the bathroom. I honestly have never urinated this much in my life. I have no idea why one urinates four times in an hour after drinking a bottle filled with water, I don't want to know, but I do really want to surgically remove my bladder with a dirty spoon right now.
2:15 - I have t minus 30 minutes until I give blood. I have officially changed my pants, taken off my sweater, and attempted to calm myself down. I have checked online to make sure that I can still give blood. I have my iPod and license in hand, and I am ready to conquer the world.
I walked downstairs awaiting my future. First, my neighbor went up, was tested, passed, and started giving blood. I was up next. After shakily walking up to the chair, slowly sitting down, and answering many questions about my health, I was deemed a non viable blood donor. Before you make assumptions about my health, I do not have an STD. I am not Anemic. My Iron is high. I have not lived out of this country. I have not slept with anyone out of the country.
I cannot give blood because I do not weigh enough.
So much for my new found bad ass attitude.
I know these things to not seem completely badass to you, but they are to me.
Here is a play by play of my day before I give blood:
10:26 - I now have four hours until I conquer one of my largest fears ever. I am hydrating myself. I have finished my glass of V8, about to drink the left over "Fruitables" juice box from last night, and maybe have another juice box before I leave for math class. During math, I plan on guzzling down two bottles filled with water. I am not really nervous right now. I think I am just concerned about having a developing cold when I give blood. I have decided not to take any medication in fear that I may not be able to give blood.
1:10 - I now have about one hour before I run back to the dorm with just enough time to calm myself down enough to sit in a chair and give blood. Again I do not feel terrified, I only feel like I really need to pee about every five minutes. So far I have had, V8, two juice boxes, one water bottle, one glass of lemonade, and one smoothie. I am working on my second bottle of water and my third trip to the bathroom. I honestly have never urinated this much in my life. I have no idea why one urinates four times in an hour after drinking a bottle filled with water, I don't want to know, but I do really want to surgically remove my bladder with a dirty spoon right now.
2:15 - I have t minus 30 minutes until I give blood. I have officially changed my pants, taken off my sweater, and attempted to calm myself down. I have checked online to make sure that I can still give blood. I have my iPod and license in hand, and I am ready to conquer the world.
I walked downstairs awaiting my future. First, my neighbor went up, was tested, passed, and started giving blood. I was up next. After shakily walking up to the chair, slowly sitting down, and answering many questions about my health, I was deemed a non viable blood donor. Before you make assumptions about my health, I do not have an STD. I am not Anemic. My Iron is high. I have not lived out of this country. I have not slept with anyone out of the country.
I cannot give blood because I do not weigh enough.
So much for my new found bad ass attitude.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
My Night Out - Emily
At this moment I know why I absolutely love the girls in my hall. They are wonderful. They are fabulous. They are beautiful and they are patient. After my wild weekend, they still love me enough to calm me down as I scream like a wild banshee up and down the hallways, stomp-dance my anxiety away, roll around on the floor like a young child, and talk like I've never said a word before.
I was acting like a complete invalid because instead of receiving about five days to prepare myself for a coed sleepover, I had about three hours. Now, coed sleepovers are very different than single sex sleepovers. When a girl prepares herself for a slumber party (All girls sleepover), she thinks about what she needs to get the best night's sleep in the least amount of time. She thinks about what hair supplies she will need tomorrow, she packs approximately ten shirts, 4 different pairs of pants, two pairs of shoes and one sock. Girls plan on what juicy gossip they can share with each other, what games to play, and what guys they want to marry.
A coed sleepover is SO different. WHAT DO YOU BRING TO A COED SLEEP OVER?
After running from room to room debating and listing what to bring over to Al's on a monday evening for a sleepover, I had a full list of things to pack to take over. This is the first draft of the list, with various comments from my lovely floor mates.
-Clothes for tomorrow
-Pillow - "why the FUCK would you need to bring a pillow for? Its a sleep over. USE HIS!"
-Flashlight - "You are not going to summer camp"
-Underwear
-Books for class
-PJ pants - "Are you just going to wear pants to bed?"
-Shirt
-Contacts - "Aren't you wearing glasses right now?"
More comments about my list:
-"With the amount of stuff you are bringing, you might as well move in!"
-"Are you sure you don't want to bring a sleeping bag?"
-"You know you have to sleep in your bra, right?"
-"Wear your polka spotted underwear!"
-Even though I only have one color bra... "Don't wear any of your nude bras!"
This is what I actually brought:
A purse.
This is what I actually wore:
The same clothes I was wearing all day. A nude bra. And my Polka spotted undies.
I had a lovely night. Honestly it was the best night I've ever had. I slept like a baby.
I think the best part of the night was when I found out what was happening while I was asleep. I guess one of my neighbors called my silent cell phone this morning at 7:00. While I was fast asleep next to Al, Bri was locked out of the room. HAHA. Now. This is the second time. The first time was fine because I was in the room sleeping. When Bri decided to lock herself out of the room this time, I was in another dorm, completely unable to help her as she banged on the door in her robe. This is hilarious. This is the funniest thing I've ever experienced vicariously through my hall mates.
So right now, Al and I are friends, with benefits. I don't know what I expect from this. I don't know what I want from this relationship. Part of me wishes this relationship will bloom into something more than what it is now, but part of me wants to hold on to what I have now. I am extremely attracted to Al, and I don't think this relationship will end in the near future.
I was acting like a complete invalid because instead of receiving about five days to prepare myself for a coed sleepover, I had about three hours. Now, coed sleepovers are very different than single sex sleepovers. When a girl prepares herself for a slumber party (All girls sleepover), she thinks about what she needs to get the best night's sleep in the least amount of time. She thinks about what hair supplies she will need tomorrow, she packs approximately ten shirts, 4 different pairs of pants, two pairs of shoes and one sock. Girls plan on what juicy gossip they can share with each other, what games to play, and what guys they want to marry.
A coed sleepover is SO different. WHAT DO YOU BRING TO A COED SLEEP OVER?
After running from room to room debating and listing what to bring over to Al's on a monday evening for a sleepover, I had a full list of things to pack to take over. This is the first draft of the list, with various comments from my lovely floor mates.
-Clothes for tomorrow
-Pillow - "why the FUCK would you need to bring a pillow for? Its a sleep over. USE HIS!"
-Flashlight - "You are not going to summer camp"
-Underwear
-Books for class
-PJ pants - "Are you just going to wear pants to bed?"
-Shirt
-Contacts - "Aren't you wearing glasses right now?"
More comments about my list:
-"With the amount of stuff you are bringing, you might as well move in!"
-"Are you sure you don't want to bring a sleeping bag?"
-"You know you have to sleep in your bra, right?"
-"Wear your polka spotted underwear!"
-Even though I only have one color bra... "Don't wear any of your nude bras!"
This is what I actually brought:
A purse.
This is what I actually wore:
The same clothes I was wearing all day. A nude bra. And my Polka spotted undies.
I had a lovely night. Honestly it was the best night I've ever had. I slept like a baby.
So right now, Al and I are friends, with benefits. I don't know what I expect from this. I don't know what I want from this relationship. Part of me wishes this relationship will bloom into something more than what it is now, but part of me wants to hold on to what I have now. I am extremely attracted to Al, and I don't think this relationship will end in the near future.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Part III: Snake Bites - Emily
For those of you who are very confused about my use of a way to insert venom from a potentially deadly snake into a victim for a title might want to read the next paragraph. Those of you who understand when I use "snake bites" I do not mean the puncture wounds snakes leave when they bite a victim, you may skip the following paragraph, and continue reading.
According to the urban dictionary website, snake bites are "two piercings just under the bottom lip: one on the left side and one on the right. They can be studs or rings, or even a combination of both. They are called snake bites as a snakes fangs puncture two holes next to each other, ie. the two holes through the skin under the lip next to each other. Snake bites used to mean two piercings next to each other anywhere on the body, but are now more recognized as the lip type as these seem to be the most popular."
Before you ask; Yes, I just used urban dictionary as a credible source, and yes, I realize the passage is extremely grammatically incorrect. Yes, I am dying to change it. No, I won't, no matter how many phone calls/posts/texts/messages I get.
So, back to the point. I am talking about snake bites because Aidan has snake bites. Aidan, now one of my friends, was sitting next door one day when I walked in freaking out about needing to look rather promiscuous for a social. And there he was. (You need a visual here)
This man is about 6 feet and 2 inches of a punk rocker's dream. He has muscles on his muscles, several piercings, and several tattoos in places which make me drool. He wears tight shirts, tight pants, and a motorcycle. He has dirty blonde hair always hidden below a hat. He also has snake bites. It was so difficult to watch him click the hoops against his own teeth, when I knew his lips were a beautiful sensory experience waiting to happen.
And they were.
A week later, Aidan texted me. We had a light conversation about how life was and how midterms went. I enjoyed the conversation. (I jumped about fifty feet in the air when I received the message...) We continued to talk throughout the day and he came over to hang out. When we "hung out" we just really laid on my bed and hit each other for about a half an hour. We decided we would see each other soon.
Little did I know soon was about five hours later.
Five hours after we laid on my bed and hit each other for a half an hour, I received yet another text message from Aidan. In this text message, he basically invited himself over to watch How to Train a Dragon. I guess I could say it was a good movie. But then I'd be lying. I could also say it was the worst movie ever made. And I'd still be lying. So I'll just say The first five minutes of the movie were very good.
The night was very fun. I guess the irony of the night was the fact that Aidan regretted bringing our friendship to the next level, when he initiated the expansion of our relationship. I guess the irony is that he's in love with another girl, a girl with a boyfriend, an abusive boyfriend. I guess the irony of the next morning was the fact that he just wanted to be friends after we expanded our relationship above friendship.
I guess the irony is that there is no irony.
According to the urban dictionary website, snake bites are "two piercings just under the bottom lip: one on the left side and one on the right. They can be studs or rings, or even a combination of both. They are called snake bites as a snakes fangs puncture two holes next to each other, ie. the two holes through the skin under the lip next to each other. Snake bites used to mean two piercings next to each other anywhere on the body, but are now more recognized as the lip type as these seem to be the most popular."
Before you ask; Yes, I just used urban dictionary as a credible source, and yes, I realize the passage is extremely grammatically incorrect. Yes, I am dying to change it. No, I won't, no matter how many phone calls/posts/texts/messages I get.
So, back to the point. I am talking about snake bites because Aidan has snake bites. Aidan, now one of my friends, was sitting next door one day when I walked in freaking out about needing to look rather promiscuous for a social. And there he was. (You need a visual here)
This man is about 6 feet and 2 inches of a punk rocker's dream. He has muscles on his muscles, several piercings, and several tattoos in places which make me drool. He wears tight shirts, tight pants, and a motorcycle. He has dirty blonde hair always hidden below a hat. He also has snake bites. It was so difficult to watch him click the hoops against his own teeth, when I knew his lips were a beautiful sensory experience waiting to happen.
And they were.
A week later, Aidan texted me. We had a light conversation about how life was and how midterms went. I enjoyed the conversation. (I jumped about fifty feet in the air when I received the message...) We continued to talk throughout the day and he came over to hang out. When we "hung out" we just really laid on my bed and hit each other for about a half an hour. We decided we would see each other soon.
Little did I know soon was about five hours later.
Five hours after we laid on my bed and hit each other for a half an hour, I received yet another text message from Aidan. In this text message, he basically invited himself over to watch How to Train a Dragon. I guess I could say it was a good movie. But then I'd be lying. I could also say it was the worst movie ever made. And I'd still be lying. So I'll just say The first five minutes of the movie were very good.
The night was very fun. I guess the irony of the night was the fact that Aidan regretted bringing our friendship to the next level, when he initiated the expansion of our relationship. I guess the irony is that he's in love with another girl, a girl with a boyfriend, an abusive boyfriend. I guess the irony of the next morning was the fact that he just wanted to be friends after we expanded our relationship above friendship.
I guess the irony is that there is no irony.
The Break Up
If I have there is any advice I would give now that I'm in college it's this...DO NOT EXPECT ANYTHING TO GO AS PLANNED.
For the last two years I've pictured the rest of my life being spent with Raymond, well that picture was shattered when I realized I couldn't stay in a relationship that wasn't fair to me.
As much as I am going to miss him, and mostly miss having someone always there for me, but I'm going to use this opportunity to find out what I'm really looking for and most of all to live my life to the fullest!
So here on out I'm writing this blog as a single girl who hasn't been one in about four years! So first of all, I haven't made out with anyone in at least a month now so I would really like to find someone to do that with! Boy or girl I'm not sure, but I will defiantly keep you posted. There are a few girls on my radar, but I'm not really sure what their feelings are towards me. There is really only one guy I have any interest in, however, he has a girlfriend at the moment. SAWDY! haha
Alright thats it for now.
BTW- Emily left me last night for her coed sleepover...I stayed up till 3:30 eating Pringles and breakfast sandwiches and watching Wizards of Waverley Place.
For the last two years I've pictured the rest of my life being spent with Raymond, well that picture was shattered when I realized I couldn't stay in a relationship that wasn't fair to me.
As much as I am going to miss him, and mostly miss having someone always there for me, but I'm going to use this opportunity to find out what I'm really looking for and most of all to live my life to the fullest!
So here on out I'm writing this blog as a single girl who hasn't been one in about four years! So first of all, I haven't made out with anyone in at least a month now so I would really like to find someone to do that with! Boy or girl I'm not sure, but I will defiantly keep you posted. There are a few girls on my radar, but I'm not really sure what their feelings are towards me. There is really only one guy I have any interest in, however, he has a girlfriend at the moment. SAWDY! haha
Alright thats it for now.
BTW- Emily left me last night for her coed sleepover...I stayed up till 3:30 eating Pringles and breakfast sandwiches and watching Wizards of Waverley Place.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Part II: The Juggler - Emily
One day during lunch I saw this man. I was trying to place him in my mind. He looked so familiar, I had to know him. I was thinking back to high school, extracurriculars, work, orientation, or anyone who asked me for directions and could still not place this man. I eventually decided that I would probably not see this man again and gave up on trying to place him. A few days later I saw him again, and a few days after that I saw him. After I stared at him for a while, he came over and knelt down beside me. He asked if I had ever gone to a certain school district. I immediately placed him. This man kneeling beside me was in my third grade elementary class. He sat across from me, and we even played cards together at lunch.
"You're Al! I'm Emily by the way."
We ended the conversation with a promise that we would see each other again and use that time to catch up and become friends again. I agreed and he left. After he left, I realized that I should have gotten his phone number.
About a week went by and I did not see Al.
Again I decided that I did not really care whether I saw Al again, though I know it would be an amazing conversation. As soon as I decided to let go of looking around for him in the dining halls, he showed up once again. I turned around and saw Al eating at the table behind me. I finally got his number.
I received a text message later that night asking if I wanted to go out sometime. I agreed. It was really supposed to be a movie night. It was supposed to be a night between friends, It was supposed to be a night to catch up, and it was supposed to be a night of bonding.
Supposed to be.
I met him outside his hall, which happened to be the hall connected to mine through a staff office. I found this extremely ironic because we once lived in the same suburb, and now we live in essentially the same building. But anyway, we planned on watching a nice comedy on a chilly saturday night.
(Before I go on, I'd like to go over a couple of things. First off, I did not plan any of what was going to happen this night. I believed we were actually going to watch a movie and bond. I believed that I wouldn't ever enjoy a man's presence again because of Tyler. Second, I'm a prude. And I know you don't believe I would call myself such a belittling name, but I really don't touch men. I do not go around kissing, hugging, poking, prodding, or batting an eyelash at men. Before college, I rarely spent time alone with men, other than my boyfriend at the time. I did not even think about "hooking up" with someone.)
I walked into his room, which had colored lights around the bottom of one lofted bed, a couch under the second lofted bed, and many blood infused posters. His room was a very plain and organized place. He did not have very many possessions, compared to his roommate, but his room looked lived in. It was a homey place. Despite the fact that there was a COUCH, we sat on the floor and talked for about a half an hour. The conversation was a little choppy, but what do you expect? We haven't seen each other for over 10 years, we have no idea what we have in common, and, to top it all off, we never had any real memories together.
Al then had what I thought was a brilliant ice breaker; tell me the story of your first kiss. Innocent little me thought nothing of this strategic move on his part. I told the lame story about my first kiss and how my ex ex boyfriend (the farther away they get the more exes they get...) LOVED the number 22 and kissed my hands 21 times, and then kissed me to make 22. I finished my story, and Al began his.
Al's story was honestly the most romantic first kiss I've ever heard of. Honestly, damn. I wish my ex ex boyfriend did something romantic like take me out on a romantic evening, or cook a dinner for me, or bought me flowers, or something beautiful before kissing my lips till they were raw. At the end of his story, he seemed to get closer, but I thought nothing of it. When he completed his story, he kissed me full on the mouth. *Please excuse my french here:*
HOLY FUCKING FUCKER, FUCKING BEST FUCKING KISS EVER.
After our nights of enjoyment, I shared with the girls back at the dorm some of what happened, I guess he was the first to get caught in my web. Definitely my favorite as of today.
"You're Al! I'm Emily by the way."
We ended the conversation with a promise that we would see each other again and use that time to catch up and become friends again. I agreed and he left. After he left, I realized that I should have gotten his phone number.
About a week went by and I did not see Al.
Again I decided that I did not really care whether I saw Al again, though I know it would be an amazing conversation. As soon as I decided to let go of looking around for him in the dining halls, he showed up once again. I turned around and saw Al eating at the table behind me. I finally got his number.
I received a text message later that night asking if I wanted to go out sometime. I agreed. It was really supposed to be a movie night. It was supposed to be a night between friends, It was supposed to be a night to catch up, and it was supposed to be a night of bonding.
Supposed to be.
I met him outside his hall, which happened to be the hall connected to mine through a staff office. I found this extremely ironic because we once lived in the same suburb, and now we live in essentially the same building. But anyway, we planned on watching a nice comedy on a chilly saturday night.
(Before I go on, I'd like to go over a couple of things. First off, I did not plan any of what was going to happen this night. I believed we were actually going to watch a movie and bond. I believed that I wouldn't ever enjoy a man's presence again because of Tyler. Second, I'm a prude. And I know you don't believe I would call myself such a belittling name, but I really don't touch men. I do not go around kissing, hugging, poking, prodding, or batting an eyelash at men. Before college, I rarely spent time alone with men, other than my boyfriend at the time. I did not even think about "hooking up" with someone.)
I walked into his room, which had colored lights around the bottom of one lofted bed, a couch under the second lofted bed, and many blood infused posters. His room was a very plain and organized place. He did not have very many possessions, compared to his roommate, but his room looked lived in. It was a homey place. Despite the fact that there was a COUCH, we sat on the floor and talked for about a half an hour. The conversation was a little choppy, but what do you expect? We haven't seen each other for over 10 years, we have no idea what we have in common, and, to top it all off, we never had any real memories together.
Al then had what I thought was a brilliant ice breaker; tell me the story of your first kiss. Innocent little me thought nothing of this strategic move on his part. I told the lame story about my first kiss and how my ex ex boyfriend (the farther away they get the more exes they get...) LOVED the number 22 and kissed my hands 21 times, and then kissed me to make 22. I finished my story, and Al began his.
Al's story was honestly the most romantic first kiss I've ever heard of. Honestly, damn. I wish my ex ex boyfriend did something romantic like take me out on a romantic evening, or cook a dinner for me, or bought me flowers, or something beautiful before kissing my lips till they were raw. At the end of his story, he seemed to get closer, but I thought nothing of it. When he completed his story, he kissed me full on the mouth. *Please excuse my french here:*
HOLY FUCKING FUCKER, FUCKING BEST FUCKING KISS EVER.
After our nights of enjoyment, I shared with the girls back at the dorm some of what happened, I guess he was the first to get caught in my web. Definitely my favorite as of today.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Too Late To Apologize
Up till now most of my posts have been humorous and playful, but unfortunately not all of college can be so fun.
I came to college determined to be myself no matter who that may be.
I've known for pretty much my whole life that I'm bisexual, as in I like both men and women. I'm still not positive how much I really like girls, I find some attractive but I've never been in a relationship with one. I've tried to discard my feelings for girls and I've had many boyfriends. I actually have a boyfriend now as I mentioned in my first ever post. He knows this about me and he's very excepting, so excepting that he said he would be fine if I wanted to experiment with girls during college. I thought about it a bit when I left for school but once I got here I sort of forgot I was on the look out for a potential female mate. One day when Emily and I were scouring the hall for friends, I spotted a girl who was different from any girl I've ever known. She looked so beautiful without any effort, it was as if she was mother nature herself. We talked to her for a bit and I felt so drawn to her I just want to hug her and be her best friend. The more we hung out the more I realized I was really falling for this girl. Lets call her Pam. Pam had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy and there was no evidence to say she had any interest in girls, I began to become discouraged. How could there be absolutely no chance that someone I wanted to be with so bad, would never want me back. I began to feel really depressed every time Pam would say "Ew thats so gay haha!" even if it wasn't to me. The crush was obviously hopeless, I began to spend less and less time with her. The other weekend I went out with Pam, she was drunk (a regular occurence) and I wondered if she would possibly share thoughts that would give me hope that we could be together. Unfortunatly, She immediately found her current hook up and made out with him while texting her ex boyfriend all night. Her life was too full of boys, there was obviously no place for me.
The other night I went to her room while she was drinking again. She was so flirtatious, I couldn't remember the last time I felt so happy, or wanted to kiss anyone more. I held back and eventually she left me to go find her new boyfriend.
Later while talking to Emily I found out what she really thinks about me and my lifestyle, a fact I foolishly shared with her one night.
"How could you sleep in the same room as her? Aren't you afraid she's going to hook up with you?" Pam told Emily.
I WAS OUTRAGED! How could you even be so ignorant?! Heterosexual people don't like EVERYONE of the opposite sex, so why would I like EVERY girl? I don't.
I never realized that people could be so ignorant, and especially when it came to a person I really cared about.
I'm not sure if I'll ever try and be Pam's friend again, I don't think it's worth it.
Sorry if that was too depressing, but I had to get that out.
I came to college determined to be myself no matter who that may be.
I've known for pretty much my whole life that I'm bisexual, as in I like both men and women. I'm still not positive how much I really like girls, I find some attractive but I've never been in a relationship with one. I've tried to discard my feelings for girls and I've had many boyfriends. I actually have a boyfriend now as I mentioned in my first ever post. He knows this about me and he's very excepting, so excepting that he said he would be fine if I wanted to experiment with girls during college. I thought about it a bit when I left for school but once I got here I sort of forgot I was on the look out for a potential female mate. One day when Emily and I were scouring the hall for friends, I spotted a girl who was different from any girl I've ever known. She looked so beautiful without any effort, it was as if she was mother nature herself. We talked to her for a bit and I felt so drawn to her I just want to hug her and be her best friend. The more we hung out the more I realized I was really falling for this girl. Lets call her Pam. Pam had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy and there was no evidence to say she had any interest in girls, I began to become discouraged. How could there be absolutely no chance that someone I wanted to be with so bad, would never want me back. I began to feel really depressed every time Pam would say "Ew thats so gay haha!" even if it wasn't to me. The crush was obviously hopeless, I began to spend less and less time with her. The other weekend I went out with Pam, she was drunk (a regular occurence) and I wondered if she would possibly share thoughts that would give me hope that we could be together. Unfortunatly, She immediately found her current hook up and made out with him while texting her ex boyfriend all night. Her life was too full of boys, there was obviously no place for me.
The other night I went to her room while she was drinking again. She was so flirtatious, I couldn't remember the last time I felt so happy, or wanted to kiss anyone more. I held back and eventually she left me to go find her new boyfriend.
Later while talking to Emily I found out what she really thinks about me and my lifestyle, a fact I foolishly shared with her one night.
"How could you sleep in the same room as her? Aren't you afraid she's going to hook up with you?" Pam told Emily.
I WAS OUTRAGED! How could you even be so ignorant?! Heterosexual people don't like EVERYONE of the opposite sex, so why would I like EVERY girl? I don't.
I never realized that people could be so ignorant, and especially when it came to a person I really cared about.
I'm not sure if I'll ever try and be Pam's friend again, I don't think it's worth it.
Sorry if that was too depressing, but I had to get that out.
Nightlife-Bri
I hate the snooze button.
I mean really? It had to be invented by a procrastinator who said "My alarm went off but I'm a lazy ass so if I want to sleep longer than I should!" I think I've had a record of 3 hours of pressing snooze every ten minutes. For those of you who hate math...thats 18 times I jump up to press the damn button that lets me lie back down for ten minutes.
However, My record amount of snoozing isn't even the biggest problem with this button. I happen to convince myself that an extra ten minutes of bliss is perfectly acceptable when it's not. For instance I once convinced myself that I didn't need to shower before class, and you know I could just stay in my pjs too. Needless to say I ran to class in the five minutes allotted to myself in pjs with make-up smeared over my face from the night before. Good work Bri.
Now to my next issue involving sleep. Every night when I go to bed I take a mental evaluation of my piercings (three in my ears, one in my nose, and one in my lip) care for them accordingly and fall asleep. In the morning without fail, when I preform the same evaluation my nose ring is always missing. I've wondered so many times how the little bugger could escape the tiny hole it's shoved into, some include sleep-picking (the act of picking one's nose in ones sleep...google it) my pillow acting as a net for the tiny gem, and other such nonsense. The particular stud I have in now always seems to turn up whether in my bed or right one the ground, we simply play a game of hide-and-seek. If you have any ideas, or have happened to see my nose stud wondering down Mill Street at three a.m., please comment on this post!
So there you have it. I have strange sleep issues, I'm in college, who doesn't?
Take Emily for example...
Emily is a lovely person and I love her (So remember that Em while you read this post), but she is the nosiest sleeper I've ever heard. Our dorm room has bunk beds, due to my sensitivity towards gravity we put Emily in the top bunk. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT there are strange nosies just above my head. Now supposedly our dorm is haunted, but I'm not sure this is the work of ghosts. Sometimes I'm sure Emily just has a little trouble breathing, enough for a very loud passage clearing snort occasionally followed by light snoring. This I could deal with, however what really gets me is the moaning. I'm not sure whats going on in that little head of hers (I'm not sure I want to by the sounds of it), but she moans CONSTANTLY! When her little sister spent the night, all night they would moan in response to each other, around three a.m I physically had to leave the room. If you see her, please ask her about her dreams if you dare.
NOTE: I am planning to record this one night to post it for you! It's indescribable.
I mean really? It had to be invented by a procrastinator who said "My alarm went off but I'm a lazy ass so if I want to sleep longer than I should!" I think I've had a record of 3 hours of pressing snooze every ten minutes. For those of you who hate math...thats 18 times I jump up to press the damn button that lets me lie back down for ten minutes.
However, My record amount of snoozing isn't even the biggest problem with this button. I happen to convince myself that an extra ten minutes of bliss is perfectly acceptable when it's not. For instance I once convinced myself that I didn't need to shower before class, and you know I could just stay in my pjs too. Needless to say I ran to class in the five minutes allotted to myself in pjs with make-up smeared over my face from the night before. Good work Bri.
Now to my next issue involving sleep. Every night when I go to bed I take a mental evaluation of my piercings (three in my ears, one in my nose, and one in my lip) care for them accordingly and fall asleep. In the morning without fail, when I preform the same evaluation my nose ring is always missing. I've wondered so many times how the little bugger could escape the tiny hole it's shoved into, some include sleep-picking (the act of picking one's nose in ones sleep...google it) my pillow acting as a net for the tiny gem, and other such nonsense. The particular stud I have in now always seems to turn up whether in my bed or right one the ground, we simply play a game of hide-and-seek. If you have any ideas, or have happened to see my nose stud wondering down Mill Street at three a.m., please comment on this post!
So there you have it. I have strange sleep issues, I'm in college, who doesn't?
Take Emily for example...
 |
| The Evil Moaner |
NOTE: I am planning to record this one night to post it for you! It's indescribable.
Part I: The Boy Next Door - Emily
This is probably when someone starts a story with "once upon a time". I don't even think this deserves a good introduction because it is easier just to begin the story.
There are three characters (besides myself and Bri) that need introduction.
1. Tyler - my neighbor, my best friend, the only guy I have consistently trusted throughout my life.
2. Eliza - my best friend.
3. Ellen - my other best friend, currently has a boyfriend.
One night, Tyler and I were talking about life. He was calling me lately about college because he is a senior in high school looking at schools. I thought nothing of his phone calls, but obviously they meant something. Tyler asked me several of the normal questions; Did I have a boyfriend? No. Was I seeing anyone? No. Did I like anyone? Not really. After these questions went on for a while, Tyler asked me what my type was. I described my dream man as such: Man in uniform, who has the same political beliefs as I do, and likes football. Tyler then proceeded to suggest himself.
This is when I knew something was happening.
Tyler and I continued talking until all hours in the morning, and we declared that we would discuss our relationship when I returned for winter break. It was a wonderful plan. Our conversations bloomed into basic poems about how we could not wait the 40-something days until I returned home. He called me baby, sweetie, and honey. I returned his names with handsome, hon, and love. It really was supposed to be perfect.
Supposed to be.
About a week later I get a phone call from Eliza. The only part I remember hearing before I blew a fuse was "Ellen and Tyler" "You telling her, or am I." At this point I attempted to Skype Tyler. (Skype: Video chat) And then I called Ellen. I told Ellen about Tyler and I. I told her everything I promised to Tyler I wouldn't tell. We discovered that our conversations were cookie cutter conversations. He copied and pasted conversations from one girl to another. We decided something had to be done.
With Ellen on speaker phone with Bri, Beth on Skype, and Tyler on speaker phone with me, I began to tear Tyler apart. I began the conversation very pleasantly. I stated how I couldn't wait to see him. And made him confirm everything I said so Ellen knew I couldn't be lying. I believe he eventually knew I found out. But I wanted to rub it in. I asked one simple question:
"Would you ever like to have a threesome?"
"Uhhh... No. I don't think so."
"Really? Because it seemed like you were very interested in Ellen too."
He apologized until I felt like I never wanted to hear his voice ever again. I let Ellen reveal herself, and he apologized some more. At this point I have no idea how Ellen felt or feels about Tyler. All I know is that I was sick to my stomach. I was disgusted. I cannot believe how someone you can trust so much, can hurt you even more than you trusted them. I cannot talk to him anymore without feeling horrid.
After this, I promised myself I'd never fall for anyone again. I guess I became more like a venomous spider, rather than the common house spider I used to be. I caught everyone who landed in my web. Part II and III are for them.
There are three characters (besides myself and Bri) that need introduction.
1. Tyler - my neighbor, my best friend, the only guy I have consistently trusted throughout my life.
2. Eliza - my best friend.
3. Ellen - my other best friend, currently has a boyfriend.
One night, Tyler and I were talking about life. He was calling me lately about college because he is a senior in high school looking at schools. I thought nothing of his phone calls, but obviously they meant something. Tyler asked me several of the normal questions; Did I have a boyfriend? No. Was I seeing anyone? No. Did I like anyone? Not really. After these questions went on for a while, Tyler asked me what my type was. I described my dream man as such: Man in uniform, who has the same political beliefs as I do, and likes football. Tyler then proceeded to suggest himself.
This is when I knew something was happening.
Tyler and I continued talking until all hours in the morning, and we declared that we would discuss our relationship when I returned for winter break. It was a wonderful plan. Our conversations bloomed into basic poems about how we could not wait the 40-something days until I returned home. He called me baby, sweetie, and honey. I returned his names with handsome, hon, and love. It really was supposed to be perfect.
Supposed to be.
About a week later I get a phone call from Eliza. The only part I remember hearing before I blew a fuse was "Ellen and Tyler" "You telling her, or am I." At this point I attempted to Skype Tyler. (Skype: Video chat) And then I called Ellen. I told Ellen about Tyler and I. I told her everything I promised to Tyler I wouldn't tell. We discovered that our conversations were cookie cutter conversations. He copied and pasted conversations from one girl to another. We decided something had to be done.
With Ellen on speaker phone with Bri, Beth on Skype, and Tyler on speaker phone with me, I began to tear Tyler apart. I began the conversation very pleasantly. I stated how I couldn't wait to see him. And made him confirm everything I said so Ellen knew I couldn't be lying. I believe he eventually knew I found out. But I wanted to rub it in. I asked one simple question:
"Would you ever like to have a threesome?"
"Uhhh... No. I don't think so."
"Really? Because it seemed like you were very interested in Ellen too."
He apologized until I felt like I never wanted to hear his voice ever again. I let Ellen reveal herself, and he apologized some more. At this point I have no idea how Ellen felt or feels about Tyler. All I know is that I was sick to my stomach. I was disgusted. I cannot believe how someone you can trust so much, can hurt you even more than you trusted them. I cannot talk to him anymore without feeling horrid.
After this, I promised myself I'd never fall for anyone again. I guess I became more like a venomous spider, rather than the common house spider I used to be. I caught everyone who landed in my web. Part II and III are for them.
Wow... Its been a long time - Emily
I guess I could start off with a couple of excuses about how long its been since we've (I've) written. But I won't. I've been busy rushing and then pledging for a sorority and Bri has been writing another blog for a class. We've been going out, staying in, and having too much fun. I guess I should highlight the past three (?) weeks for you all.
I attempted to write about how formal rush was. Not successful.... I found myself becoming exhausted as I wrote about the long, boring, and tedious process of being ripped apart by real life Barbie dolls. I deleted that draft.
Then I tried to write about how much our alcohol education program stinks:
I am now sitting in my dorm room after four hours of sleep, and two hours of a nap. After the long weekend of rushing for the nine sororities on campus I am exhausted. (By the way.... about a week later I am in AOPI!!!!)
Today, the learning communities went to a special live version of Alcohol Education. While we all suffered through countless hours of "alcohol edu" over the summer, we still have to deal with this live alcohol education program . ("Alcohol edu" is a mandatory program on the internet that focuses on educating freshmen about the evils of under age alcohol consumption.) Even after the two million hours it took to complete the LONGEST survey about drinking, the administrators still believe we must have a program condemning underage alcohol consumption.
Honestly, this "workshop" is a complete waste of precious time. I only have 24 hours in a day. I only sleep for four of those 24 hours. Which means I only have 20 hours for what I need to do. To put five of your brightest future educators in a room with people who only want to go to college to get drunk is a disaster.
So there we are. Five brilliant educators. Sitting in a room full of future drop-outs, learning about the alcohol we will never see in our lives, while the girls and guys who stagger home every night at three, or scream O-H for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT AT ANY PASSING ANIMAL, CAR, OR PERSON, play Majong..
Side bar : We go to the number two party school in America. Not only are we mad crazy about getting a little sloppy, but we are probably not going to listen to a computer program and what it has to say about drinking.
After completing this little blurb about the alcohol education program... my life got a little more interesting. I will not go into it now, because they are three very long stories. But I will post them very soon.
I attempted to write about how formal rush was. Not successful.... I found myself becoming exhausted as I wrote about the long, boring, and tedious process of being ripped apart by real life Barbie dolls. I deleted that draft.
Then I tried to write about how much our alcohol education program stinks:
I am now sitting in my dorm room after four hours of sleep, and two hours of a nap. After the long weekend of rushing for the nine sororities on campus I am exhausted. (By the way.... about a week later I am in AOPI!!!!)
Today, the learning communities went to a special live version of Alcohol Education. While we all suffered through countless hours of "alcohol edu" over the summer, we still have to deal with this live alcohol education program . ("Alcohol edu" is a mandatory program on the internet that focuses on educating freshmen about the evils of under age alcohol consumption.) Even after the two million hours it took to complete the LONGEST survey about drinking, the administrators still believe we must have a program condemning underage alcohol consumption.
Honestly, this "workshop" is a complete waste of precious time. I only have 24 hours in a day. I only sleep for four of those 24 hours. Which means I only have 20 hours for what I need to do. To put five of your brightest future educators in a room with people who only want to go to college to get drunk is a disaster.
So there we are. Five brilliant educators. Sitting in a room full of future drop-outs, learning about the alcohol we will never see in our lives, while the girls and guys who stagger home every night at three, or scream O-H for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT AT ANY PASSING ANIMAL, CAR, OR PERSON, play Majong..
Side bar : We go to the number two party school in America. Not only are we mad crazy about getting a little sloppy, but we are probably not going to listen to a computer program and what it has to say about drinking.
After completing this little blurb about the alcohol education program... my life got a little more interesting. I will not go into it now, because they are three very long stories. But I will post them very soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)