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.

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...

The Evil Moaner

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.

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. 

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. 

While Doing My Laundry - Emily

Yes, I am randomly sitting in the laundry room in the basement of a dorm 500 feet away from where I’ve started to call home. In this room there are a million washers and driers, there are enough abandoned socks to make a quilt for a family of nineteen, and fans  that are supposed to keep this room fairly manageable.  The fans only keep the room cool enough for us not to fry like an egg on the blacktop. The best part of the laundry room is the people watching.  My favorite people to watch are men because most of the men cannot work these machines. And it is absolutely hilarious to watch them try to figure out where the soap goes. (Hint! Its in the drawer, the one that has a sticker of soap on it).  Today I think I will share some stories about the laundry room.

You can tell when people are, what I like to call, “laundry virgins”.  First off, they have the deer in the headlights look when they walk in the door to meet the 400 washers and driers in this building.  You can see the thoughts shooting through their heads; ‘wait, which one did my mom say to use first?’, ‘how much soap do I use’, ‘I need soap?’, ‘thats a lot of socks’, ‘who do I ask for help?’, and my favorite, ‘she’s a girl, I wonder how much I have to pay her to do my laundry’.  

Then, after they see how much clothing they have, and how much space is in the washer, these thoughts come up; ‘I think these machines are too small’, ‘are these the girl’s machines?’ ‘I think my mom said something about separating’, ‘Maybe I should split this up somehow’, and ‘I wonder how much I can pay her to do this.’ At this time they make one of two choices, cram as much as they can into one washing machine, or separate their laundry.  

What separating laundry is for women, and what separating laundry is for men, are two totally different things. Women usually separate each load by colors, and whether they are delicate or regular. I’ve seen men separate their laundry by sports teams, by tops and bottoms, by first three colors of the rainbow and last three colors, by winter clothes and summer clothes, by clothes they wear under everything and clothes they wear over everything, and favorites and non favorites. There are more thoughts; ‘did I actually wear this?’, ‘god that smells like crap’, ‘that’s not my sock’, ‘thats not my women’s underwear’, and ‘She’d probably do all my laundry for five bucks.’ 

After separating laundry, comes finding where the soap goes. Lets review this.  The soap, the most important part of washing your laundry, goes in the drawer with the sticker of the soap cup on it. The “laundry virgins” look everywhere.  This is very hilarious because if you sit on the bench provided for students who sit and wait for their clothes, the sticker is at eye level. Once these “laundry virgins” open the drawer, their smile quickly fades into a look of sudden terror.  There are three words. Bleach. Detergent. Softener. Fortunately, this information is written on the bottle of soap their mothers secretly packed. Unfortunately, no one actually reads the bottle.  

At this point, the soap is poured in, and there is a stare-down between the washing machine and the man.  While the washing machine is just beginning the spin cycle, the man is afraid he just paid for the wrong machine.  As the man turns around to check that he paid, the washing machine takes its chance to sneakily put soap in and spin a couple of times before the man turns around. The man checks the washer, then the number sticker on his machine, and then checks to see that he paid.  The machine suddenly takes its chance to dramatically spin uncontrollably as the man turns around just in time to freak out because he just managed to do the impossible. He mastered the washing machine. 

The look upon the face of each “laundry virgin” is maybe the funniest look anyone will witness in his or her life. This look of pure self accomplishment is like the look one gets after they are potty trained for the first time, the first time they rode a bike, or like they just bear wrestled a 600 pound bear with one hand tied behind their back. The last few thoughts before the “laundry virgin” pulls his clean clothes out of the conquered washing machine are as follows; ‘Maybe I should wash everything in here, its so easy’, ‘I need a long nap’, ‘next time I’m mailing my clothes home’, ‘pretty sure I just shrunk this shirt’, and ‘I wonder how much I could pay her to do my laundry.”

Emily Again!

I guess I should go into what college life is like. We live in a twelve by twelve cubicle with slanted walls. Most of the room is taken up by our beds and desks, several precious inches are taken by our fridge (with Bri's stale muffin from Tuesday on top), the other space is filled with our lime green beanbag, and our half filled drying rack.  We have a five foot square area where we can sit and attempt to lean and watch our seventeen inch television.  We have one window, which doesn't open, and an air conditioner that is constantly acorn bombed by squirrels. Our walls are thinner than paper, so we can hear EVERYTHING that goes on on the whole floor.

We share a bathroom with at least 25 other girls. This is disgusting. I have seen girls forget their underwear in the shower.  I have seen so many homeless bars of soap skewed around our shower. I have seen so much food,  not ingested, digested, and partially unidentifiable. I have seen a bra so large, you could carry around triplets in it. 

The worst part about our room is that it is in an arch. Our room is above where the drunk students walk under to get back to their dorm room.  We can not only hear everything that goes on, but we can hear every conversation that happens below us. We've had girls cry for their jackets, several people express their love for the Jewish people, and one person racing invisible people back to the building.  Our drunks come in shifts. We have the 12:00 drunks, who are not very loud, we have the 1:00 drunks, who are loud enough to still be considered slightly sober, we have the 2:00 drunks, who are loud enough to wake a hibernating bear, and last but not least, we have our 6:00 AM drunks.  These are my favorite. I  love the 6 AM drunks.

My favorite part of college so far was the lovely tornado drill experience. Not only was I scared shitless, but I was laughing hysterically the whole time. There were a couple 'I don't want to die a virgin' and one 'dude, i just saw a squirrel get fucked up'. It was particularly enjoyable because I am terrified of the dark and thunder storms.  Bri, on the other hand, is terrified of tornadoes. It was an adventure. 

Thats all for now! 

Bri's Side of the Story

So since Emily has now gotten to have her say, I suppose it's my turn. 

I am the Journalism Major of the two of us and I guess thats why we started this blog! I have a boyfriend although I always do. I love him very much, so we have decided that we will try and get through this eight and a half hour divide known as college. He decided I couldn't see other guys, I decided he could see other guys if he wanted...

As Emily mentioned before we are like day and night. I thought she would be the neat one, turns out I was wrong about that one (I can say this because I am currently staring at her plate of five day old mac and cheese remains on the ground by my bed) as I was wrong about a lot of things. Regardless, we are now sisters bonded for life whether we like it or not. She wakes up at 6:30 Mondays and Wednesdays usually scaring the shit out of me, or unsuccessfully trying to wake me up when I ask her too, because well I don't have class till ten or eleven on those days. She sometimes has a sudden bought of uncontrollable gas, and I will often forget to warn her when I walk around our room butt naked. However, we have cried together, laughed together, and even taken care of each other when it was necessary.  I guess I'll let this lead into a story.

Emily and I are both very open people...let me rephrase this...I am a very open person and I am beginning to rub off on Emily.  This is especially true when it comes to our two guy friends who followed us here from high school. One of those boys is our friend Zack. I'm pretty sure our whole hall thinks Zack and Em are dating (their not guys!) because he is over so damn often. He seems to always wonder into our room, even if we haven't gone down to let him into our building, and makes his way to the nice green bean bag we had to have. His activities range from trying to calm Emily down and failing miserably to writing down all 80 of our television stations. I'm not sure if it's because we've both known him for practically our whole lives, or if it's because we've accidentally called him our gay best friend so many times it's starting to stick, but we are very comfortable around Zack. We are in fact so comfortable with him we tend to walk around half naked in his presence. By now he's learned the drill, if one of us is heading towards our drawers or closet he probably needs to hide his face to avoid the tremendous boobage. OOHOOHOOH! Quick tangent, Emily and I both seem to have ginormous tatas and it is both a blessing and a curse. However back to my story. Zack is not the only man who we disregard clothing around, there is also of course our friend Kris. Kris is known around our hall as the gorgeous chocolate man who is friends with Bri. Well one night Kris was chilling with us, and Emily began her nightly routine of pants-less-ness. Which she does every night, usually before running with hands covering her bum to the bathroom. Kris being the gorgeous chocolate man he is, I decided I'd just fling off my shirt too. Well looking back at these stories make me realize that Emily and I really don't like clothes. 

So there you have it, the moral of that story is Emily and I would rather be naked.