Category: And

Neck Pains & Blackouts

8/17/2016

It was an eventful span of three days for me.

I hurt my neck. I woke up and I was in so much pain. I'm guessing it was a result of all my headbanging to Avril Lavigne, but no one knows for sure. Still, my mother's car was broken, so she wanted to hang out and who better to drive her around then her favorite live in child?

We went to this coffee shop downtown. It was very good and I even parallel parked on a busy street. I'm amazing. My neck was not feeling my usual exorcist mentality, but still I persevered and took that parking spot like the blonde bitch I am.

Three (four? six?) days later I ran my car battery down at work. Now I know how to jump a car, I have run my battery down many times before. I even had the assistance of Sacajawea. You know your best friends when someone willingly get's their extensions wet to help you jumpstart your car. It was thundering and dark outside, so we may have required the assistance of everyone's favorite country boy, but besides that we are strong independent individuals. Basically.

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Penis Necklaces & Meeting Bonnie McKee

7/20/2016

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I'm glad they decided give gays the month of June to celebrate. It's really fucking hot and it gives me a reason to lather my body in 12 ounces of sunblock. Miss Sara Bellum and I took a day trip out to a gay pride in a city far, far away. We were on the hunt for gays and lesbians. We found both.

We both looked cute as hell. Of course you know you've fucked up when your the only one wearing heels and the drag queens are in flats. Still, I survived with only one blister by the day.

We stopped by the Planned Parenthood booth and stocked up on my condom lollipops. If you ever go to a Pride there's always a million booths. You've got churches telling you it's okay to be gay, but my mother has cited Timothy 1:9 and 1:10 enough for me to know that's not how they really feel. Then, you always have the overpriced street vendors, because it's really fucking hot.

Mind you I felt gorgeous and whimsical. I got hit on by two men in their fifties. I was flattered and pleased to know that I'm desirable to the sugar daddy crowd. I did manage to get hit on by someone who was age appropriate.

I was in line to buy a slushie. I had a twenty dollar bill in my hand when a boy tells me that “I look better then that $20 bill in my hand.” I'm going to compliment him on his glued on rhinestones, when he adds, “But not by much.” I guess to make sure I wasn't too sure of myself. He goes on to specify $21.

The cute flirting is less cute. He goes on to correct himself to say that I look like a “$1,000”. I tell him, “I'm worth more then that.” I'm imaging that's the moment he decided not to ask for my number.

He put in quite a lot of effort not to ask for it. He even saw me later and called my twenty dollars. It's true I wouldn't have given him my number, but I would have given him my e-mail address.

One thing you should know about Pride is that it's full of shirtless white gays who don't understanding the concept of form fitting shorts and jeans. There's also penis necklaces, some of which feature a rape whistle.

The true highlight of my day was not when I spilled my blue raspberry slush on my black and white striped shorts (the stain came out) or when I ran into my teacher and he refused to acknowledge, or even when I saw a drag queen cosplaying as Reba. It's when I saw Bonnie McKee.

I was up at the front. My pink hat blocking out the sun. I felt it all. The throbbing bass. Miss Sara Bellum almost collapsing because of the hit. Bonnie McKee is the hit songwriter behind 5 of the 7 Katy Perry number ones and she has her own fantastic solo career. She's an American girl through and through. Also the ass is real.

The vocals were live vocal and raw. She hit that high falsetto note on her ballad right in front of me. She gave us choreographed dance numbers in leg warmers. There was an ass clap. I knew the choruses and some of the bridges. It was wild. I almost got to touch her hand when she ran her hand down along the front row. It was amazing. She's one of my idols and I saw it all.

When she said that she was doing a meet and greet, this bitch had to be apart of it. I bought a physical copy of her EP Bombastic (a Friday Favorites on the EP is coming in two days). I stood in line. I was shaking. I had time to make a great first impression.

Then, I got lost in the six inch heels. She's a tiny girl and I'm a tall gay and our heels canceled each other out. I gave her a church hug. She signed my CD “Love Bonnie”. I told her that I loved her career. That she was amazing live. That she recreated her music videos on stage. I was the standard fan having my first celebrity encounter. I also used the word “obsessed” at one point, which I regret.

She told me that “she saw me in the crowd trying to sing the words”. It's true the chorus's I know, but unless it's “Fergalicious” I don't know anything else. She told me she liked my hat. It was pink. It would have looked fantastic with her retro leotard.

I made a pleasant if unmemorable impression on her. Which, I regret. Did I ask her the hard hitting questions. When is the album coming it? Have you heard Katy Perry's new record? No, I didn't. I have a feeling that Bonnie and Katy hang out at Katy's mansion and drink martinis and talk shit about boys when their both not on tour. But, what do I say. “I've been obsessed with you, since you released that song “American Girl”. Why am I like this God.

#NeverTrump

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Summer on a Dime

6/8/2016

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As a poor college student, summer is the time to put on sun block, get out of the house, and try to spend the least amount of money as possible. Of course the problem with having friends is that “free” is not in their vocabulary. And, you can only Netflix and chill so many times before someone has a baby.

I've been reconnecting with old flames, trying to rekindle all those bonds I dropped during the school year in search for that elusive “A”.

Honestly, I've been spending a lot of time with my mother. The madre. The woman who pushed me out of her vagina. We had a great Mother's Day. I took her to a nice hole in the wall for breakfast. I got sausage gravy and biscuits like a good country boy.

We had a great time on her birthday. We went out, bought a few hats. Went to a coffee shop, and played a game of chess. I lost and not on purpose. We split a bagel, laughed, my mother got something called a “funky monkey”, a banana inspired coffee, you know the usual.

We both had our wide brimmed hats on and we went out to our local botanical gardens. I'm obsessed with gardens. It was a balmy seventy degrees out and we just spent a few hours walking among the flora, talking, living life. I strongly encourage everyone to go to their gardens. It's worth it and their the hallmark of any good city.

The night of debauchery ended with us seeing a screening of Mothers and Daughters. It was dull and contrite, but ended warm and predictable. We meant to see Susan Sarandon's film The Meddler, but that's another story. Spending time with your mother is the best, especially if you don't hate each other. We're going to see Carrie Underwood together. My country white girl heart is bleeding.

Miss Sara Bellum and I had a beautiful day out. We almost won Harry Potter trivia together. We saw the Drag Race finale. Although, I'm not sure why. We all knew Bob was going to win. We've become particularly self reliant on one another ever since the Mayor went away for the summer for an internship in Pennsylvania.

I said to the Mayor before she leaves that if she doesn't have a summer fling I will be entirely disappointed in her. Whenever you leave for the summer you find love. That's how it works in all the Mary Kate and Ashley movies.

Rosencrantz and I have been reconnecting as well. We spent the better part of last year not talking, mostly my fault. I need to make more time for people. We've been three muskeetering it with Sacajawea, the true love of our lives.

We've gone on cupcake runs as one does. Not that I have $2.50 to spare. We've just had a great time. I told Rosencrantz that her baby niece was ugly.

You know all the usual things. We went to a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant together, Sacajawea swears by the waiter's ass. We also went to a local coffee shop together where the barista was amused to hear that one of our boyfriend's had a penis as thick as a steering wheel.

On one of our cupcake runs I hit my head on a glass counter in order to hide from a slut I know. It was very inconspicuous of me, but I got a free cookie out of it. And, that's the true way to save money on a dime. Do something stupid and people will feel sorry for you.

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Happy Belated Birthday

5/25/2016

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Needless to say Marilyn Monroe didn't pop out of a cake and sing “happy birthday Mr. President” to me, although that's mainly because I'm the secretary of the GSA instead of the President.

This year my birthday came and pass with little announcement of it on my blog. It was a Saturday. Last year I started my YouTube channel, which will be returning this summer. I'm still not sure if I'm excited about that. I was school and blogged out. I just didn't have it in me to write an extra article celebrating my birthday.

It was my 20th birthday. I came to the gripping realization that I hadn't accomplished anything with my life other then beating teen pregnancy. It was a beautiful rainy day. I woke up and had a reheated cup of coffee and enjoyed life. I was less then a week away from finals. I was drained, but elated, exhausted, yet ecstatic, looking beautiful as usual.

My father forgot it was my birthday. At first I thought he didn't know the exact day. Then, I told him. He still wasn't sure. To be fair there are a lot of family birthdays in this month. My mother, two of my nephews, one niece. For some reason everyone felt this was the time of year to push a living life form out of their vagina.

Of course we recovered. My mother brought out my birthday present. It was wrapped and when I opened it I found a shaving apparatus within the loins of the ribbon and paper. I've honestly never been happier in my life.

That night I had plans with two of my favorite people in college. They both canceled on me. One was sick, and the other one has restrictive parents who didn't want her to go out in the rain, which I personally think is very reasonable.

I made the decision to stay home for the day. Luxuriate in me time. Maybe spend a little time with the dog. The parents both went out grocery shopping. They asked if I wanted to go. Clearly I didn't.

And, it was somewhere during this time and a brief phone call with my father regarding what kind of toppings I would like on my pizza, that I was dragged out of the house. I was informed that I couldn't “sulk feeling sorry for myself on birthday” and I said to her, “but that's what I normally do on the weekends.”

I'm glad she forced me out of my Friends marathon. Honestly, what else would I have to do during the summer if I'd watched it all on my birthday?

The day was quite lovely. I put on sun block, got lost in another state as one does, and really had such a lovely time. We heard a little live music. People always say that music has the ability to transport you to a different place and that Meghan Trainor would make them leave the cafe. I just want you to know that isn't true. I would stand in the rain and the mud for my favorite heteronormative icon. And, if you throw a little Yo Gotti in there, what can top it?

My 20th may have been a messy day, but a picture of me was posted on instagram. I got a few likes on a pictures and I'm this much closer to death and being able to legally buy a 2 liter bottle of vodka.

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How To Be A Heartbreaker

4/13/2016

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There's a song by Marina and the Diamonds called “How To Be A Heartbreaker”. The goal of this post is not as ambitious as that song, nor does it feature a slew of shirtless men (although it should). Instead it's a bitter diatribe of a college student writing after midnight.

Buy "How To Be A Heartbreaker"

I was just trying to sleep, unable to focus on anything appropriate and I was just thinking about how you should be treated.

You need to value yourself and expect people not to treat you poorly. I think that might be surprising way to be a heartbreaker, but not letting someone walk over you is important. Standing up for yourself.

I think “love” makes us do stupid things. We don't value ourselves the way we should. I think it's so important to always put yourself first. You need to do what's best for you. And, if that makes you a bitch. That's fine.

This does not mean you won't lose people. You always have to value and respect other people if you want to keep them in your life, but taking care of yourself always comes above someone else. That might be selfish and a self centered way to approach life. I'm a millennial and a credit to my generation.

2. Never date someone who is significantly older then you when your older. I think it's one of the worst ways to set yourself up for emotional manipulation.

Once you get older this becomes less of a problem. But, a 22 year old dating an 18 year old. That's problematic. A high schooler versus a college graduate. The older individual will take advantage of the younger person no matter if they intend to do it or not. Their only 22. They are not “mature”. They're still figuring their life out. It's literally the plot of Friends.

A young person does not have the emotional or mental capabilities or the experience to fight someone on this ground.

Do NOT listen to an older individual who says “your so mature for your age”. It's the oldest trick in the book. Age gaps become significantly less important as you get older. But, teenagers, young twenty somethings. You are not “ageist” for being uncomfortable in not wanting to date someone older. You might want to, but I beg of you not to. Your only going to get hurt and I don't know you personally, but I care. And, you don't deserve that kind of emotional burden at this age.

3. Lastly do not spend time with people who do not make time for you or/and invalidate how you feel.

These are so important. If you bring up a problem and someone consistently invalidates how you feel or rejects how you feel drop them. And, do not chase people who don't want to be with you and make no effort to see you. Friendship, love, it's all a two way street, and it should be reciprocated to some extent. Whatever that is.

I think what I'm trying to say, is value yourself, and who you are, and realize that you deserve someone who treats you correctly. And, it's time to drop anyone who doesn't show you their capable of doing this.

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Liebster Award

2/3/2016

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The most exciting thing to happen to me in recent times was being nominated for a Liebster Award by the one and only queen Cherie Cheezcake. I have such a girl crush on her. You can read my blog article on her here and read her Naked and Nerdy blog here.

The Liebster Award is a way for bloggers to discover other bloggers and blog readers to find new blogs.

Liebster Award Guidelines:

Thank the person who nominated you and a post a link to their blog in your post.
Show the aware on your blog or in the post
Answer the 11 questions asked by the person who nominated you
Write 11 random facts about yourself
Nominated 5-11 bloggers that you feel deserve the award
Create a list of new questions for your nominees to answer.
Once your blog post is published let your nominees know they have been nominated and link them to your post for more details.

11 Questions:
1.What's a movie or television show that you love but everyone else hates?
Definitely The Simple Life. It's not that everyone hates it, but there's still that strong backlash against it since it was Paris and Nicole's jumping off board. It's trashy TV and I have no problem admitting I have every season on DVD. It's everyone's favorite guilty pleasure.

2. Do you have any piercings or tattoos?
No, I do not. There aren't any plans for me to get any in the future, but I did price check what it costs to get your hips pierced once.

3. Who is/are your style icon(s)?
Princess Diana. She was always very sophisticated and put together. I even liked it when she dressed matronly. It might not reflect in how I present myself, but she always there. I'm more hopelessly devoted to that Shannen Doherty/Alicia Silverstone look. I love tweed and shoulder pads.

4. Which decade is your favorite? If possible, would you go back in time and live through it as you are now?
My favorite decade is the seventies. I've always loved the chill vibes of the music and of course disco. I could have lived through Olivia Newton John's heyday and seen Charlies Angels live on TV, but no part of me would actually want to go back and grow up through it.

5. When was the last time you met someone new? Who was it?
I'm still in college, so I meet new people all the time, but the last time I met someone new that I've actually built a relationship with would be Prince Harry. He's one of my two Princes and I was the awkward third wheel to their two wheels on New Year's Eve.

6. What is the single best thing that happened to you in the last year?
Hilary Duff, the true royalty of Disney Channel finally returned to us in the biggest possible way. She murdered us as the sexy and vivacious Kelsey Peters in Younger and her new album Breathe In. Breathe Out is the soundtrack to my life.

7. What was your last birthday like? Did you get presents? Did you do anything to celebrate?
This is going to sound horrible, but my last birthday I spent the day at home, alone. My grandmother passed away a few days before, so my parents went to her funeral. I didn't get any presents and I didn't go out and celebrate, but it was honestly one of my favorite birthdays. It was very relaxed and peaceful

8. What is the nerdiest thing you have ever done?
Senior year, I went out with a dear friend of mine and bought ARTPOP the day it came out. We were there in the stores, 8:00 in the morning, the minute they opened, dressed up, cash in hand, ready to experience the religion of Lady Gaga.

9. Are there any television shows you're looking forward to in the next few months?
The return of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. We're finally going to see Luke and Lorelai get married. Yeah!!!!!!!!

10. Have you ever been fired from a job? If so, why?
I haven't been fired from a job... yet.

11. What was the last blog post that made you smile and why?
It would have to be one of Nick Tredrea's. He hasn't been posting for a while, but he's always wild. His blog is so much fun, I can't wait for him to return.

11 Facts about Me:
1. I'm allergic to peanuts. That's not really interesting, but people I've known forever always seem so shocked when I tell them.

2. The first album I ever bought was Dignity, Hilary Duff's third studio album. I was a shy middle schooler and I couldn't find the CD and I remember asking one of the staff if they had Hilary Duff's Dignity. So embarrassed.

3. I read Vogue cover to cover every month.

3. Despite being a total cynic, I grew up on romantic comedies as a child and I'm actually a complete hopeless romantic. I'm just waiting for Richard Gere to save me from my life of prostitution.

4. My dream date is going to the bank. My lover deposits a million dollars into my account. I go home.

5. I'm waiting for Ashley Tisdale to come back and save pop music.

6. One of my managers told me that he would be in love with me “if I wasn't such a bitch.” It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

7. I'm a really sentimental person and I have a shoe box of things that remind me of people that I care about.

8. The first concert I ever went to was Sheryl Crow. I went with my mother and that was when she was promoting her 100 Miles From Memphis album. It's still one of my favorites.

9. I share my birthday with the day that George Washington was inaugurated. April 30th.

10. I am a nineteen year old middle class American and I still don't have a cellphone and my family didn't get internet until a month before I started college.

11. I have very few talents, but I happen to be quite adept at balancing trays on my head.

Bloggers I Nominate:
I apologize for being a terrible blogger. I only read four blogs (one of which is Cherie's) and Nick is taking an extended break at the moment and he's always changing the name of it. I actually wrote an entire piece on his blog and you can read that here.

My three nominations are:
Rare Disease Mixed With Common Ailment (read here)
You Can See Another Doctor (read here)
Nick's Attic

I was five years old when I believed Miss Olivia Newton John would fall in love with me.

Questions For Bloggers:
Favorite female rapper?

First celebrity crush?

Are you dating anyone? And if so are they sexy? Do you love them? Are they the one?

What's the nicest complement you've ever received?

Tis the season of love. What's your favorite romantic movie?

Which member of Destiny's Child would you want to be?

Who's your favorite youtuber?

What's your favorite city based off your extensive traveling experience?

Did you have a New Year's Resolution? And, if so what was it?

Favorite Madonna song?

How old were you when you had your first alcoholic drink?

This has been so much fun! Thanks to Cherie Cheezcake for being the best and nominating me for this!

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Wild Sex & Gay Bars

1/20/2016

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I know what you're thinking. My life is exciting and interesting, also full of ho stories. Tragically my parents think my love life is more interesting then it actually is. In an exciting twist I've left Prince William by the wayside and I'm now dating his boyfriend Prince Harry.

No. Instead my manager has gone wild. My “heterosexual” manager. I've known him for years. We go way back. In middle school everyone said he was gay, because he wore skinny jeans. I was like that's not quite how it works, but okay.

He's said some strange things to me, but I would file him under “sexually fluid” rather than “sexually confused”.

So, there I was. It was a nice Saturday shift. My manager told me that he was going to a gay bar that night and that all the men were going to buy him drinks. His logic made sense. He, the straight male, would get hit on, because he was so undeniably attractive.

He was also going with one of my heterosexual coworkers. Who has a girlfriend and a baby at home. But, that's another story. His involves getting left drunk in the parking lot of the bar without keys to start the car.

My manager's predictions were right. He got hit on. He got drinks, but his mama must have never told him not to take drinks from strange men. Free drinks are great and all, it's an expensive world, but sometimes caution is a virtue. Although, I think he just got really drunk.

Now while at this bar he met a nice lesbian and he was convinced that she would love him. Not that he would convince her to like men, but that she would love unfathomably in love with him. The drinks were clearly affecting him.

At this point his story became more convoluted. He went home with the billionaire older gay. A classic plotline. Back to his condo where he slept off the alcohol.

This is where the story ends. My manager came into work on the Sunday shift, still a little drunk, and somewhere in his drunken phase he decided not to tel us the rest of the story.

I'm sure he passed out on the couch and the nice older gay retired to his own bedroom. That's why my manager had rug burn marks on his arms. A common injury to receive while drinking at a bar.

The best part of all of this for me was his explanation that this rich older gay was going to “invest in his business”. My manager is the person who asked off for 4/20 last year and on his vacation to Mexico I asked him to bring me back some heroin. His life plans include becoming the king of a drug cartel.

Mind you while all of this is happening, my manager just got back together with his girlfriend. So, he got fucked by some man he didn't even know, while he had his cute adorable tiny girl at home. I personally think this is going to end really well for him.

A cautionary tale of why not to get wasted at mysterious bars.

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Hangers & A Sweater Later

1/6/2016

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The holiday season has finally wrapped up. I for one am happy. The only good part about Christmas is having RuPaul's Christmas album on repeat. Something that I do in June anyway. People mention “hot chocolate” and “snow”. These are not specific Christmas. The only thing specific to Christmas is midnight mass and I would rather be asleep.

So, picture it. I'm having a great time playing Dirty Santa. I was a great person. I brought two gifts. One was a half eaten box of candy corn, the other was a pair of baby wedges. That my sister said her daughter was “too young for”. There is never a time you are too young to be fashionable.

My gift was well received by the masses. All were disappointed when they found they couldn't shove their foot inside them. Black was horrified when it was revealed that her gift was a box of half eaten candy corn. She forgot to bring her own and I kindly acquiesced. It was also wrapped in a trash bag.

Black also informed me that her name on the blog was “unoriginal”. Stay updated in case there is a change in name, now that an official complaint has been lodged.

You are probably asking what I won. At first it was a box of tissue and a copy of 25. Then, my favorite Prince William manipulated someone into stealing his gift, so he could rob me. I have never felt more violated in my life. It ended all right, though. I ended up a sweater and two scarf hangers richer.

Of course I switched into the sweater. Tacky Christmas sweater have their place and two hours in one was enough for me.

After our school function. Prince William invited me and Black to spend the better part of the night with his boyfriend Prince Harry. Black rode with Prince William, because I drove too slow.

It was fine, though. It gave me and Prince Harry a chance to bond and catch up with one another. Prince William and Prince Harry are my favorite couple I adore them. They are the better part of my social life, so when and if they ever break up my life will be ruined.

The night was very low key. I lost at all incarnations of Mario. Super Mario Smash Bros. Mario Kart 8. It seemed no matter what I did, I was not destined to be good at these games. And, it's fine. I personally enjoy losing every single time.

We stayed up until about 1:30 in the morning doing this and I promise I was not mad. At. All. But, honestly fuck them. I was so mad.

At this point Black and I decided we should go home. She had to be picked up from school by her father. At 2:00 in the morning. Personally that would be a strong case for me to teach my daughter to drive.

I get home. Unlock the door. The dog has a jingle bell collar on. He looks cute and my father for some reason is awake. He asks me where I got the sweater from. I look down at it. Thinking that my tacky Christmas sweater is in the car when I tell him that I got it from Prince William.

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The Environmental Conference

12/16/2015

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It's rare that multiple bloggable moment happen to me over the course of a week. That's why I've saved this for day three of the 12 Days of Bubbles. The week after “It's Not My Party” (read here) takes place I was on my way to an LGBT conference. Or as my parents refer to it as “the environmental conference”.

A rainy Friday morning I was in front of my school at 9:00 am. I looked cute. A button up maroon shirt tucked into my striped shorts and red peep toes. Our fearless leader got at the school at 9:15. We drove quickly from there to shopping.

My GSA president has this bad habit of texting and driving. As well as speeding. At one point I had to borrow his phone to call his boyfriend. I told him, “This is not how I want to die. Driving to a conference. That is not glamorous. This is not a story my grandchildren will pass on to their grandchildren.”

Needless to say I think his boyfriend really likes me. We broke up our six hour drive with a layover at the most beautiful mall. They had a Michael Kors shop. This beautiful $200 red jacket longed for me. I deserved it. It deserved me. We belonged together. Tragically my recently defaulted student loans suggested otherwise.

I was a good gay. I stopped myself from spending $75 at Pac Sun. I limited myself to this tin can and candle I got at Earthbound for $2.97 plus tax. Our GSA president promptly dropped over $200. I lived vicariously through him.

That night we arrived. Blurry eyed. We were staying in the basement of this nice Presbyterian church. They had horrible water. But, there was a pool table, so that made up for it.

The next morning we went to the conference. Our fearless leader and our quiet anime porn watcher had snored through the night. I woke up showered. Looked scandalously appropriate for an LGBT conference. Grabbed a pumpkin spice latte. I was dressed straight from a catalog.

We went to three different discussions. The first was on love. Applicable to everyone accept the aromantics. There are four great ways to break up relationships. I do two of the four regularly. One is essentially passive aggressiveness and the other is called “stone walling”. Essentially, not talking to your partner. Needless to say I now know why I have no friends.

The second one was a workers panel. It was about being LGBT in the workplace. It was generally dull. Until the final question came around from the ginger in the front row. She asked the panel members how they were supposed to give varying viewpoints coming from a “cisgender Caucasian” perspective. I died.

Thanks to the god who plans on putting us in hell, we broke for lunch. It was a questionable taco salad. I stayed in my lane with a plate of tortilla chips.

After lunch we saw a talk from Janet Mock, which fed from the last group we saw on problems transgender individuals face. Janet Mock is a transrights activist. She's amazing. She's stunning and her hair is gorgeous.

She walked out a jacket slinked around her shoulders, and some good nude pumps on. Her commentary is engaging and incredibly well thought out. One of the things she said that's really stuck with me is “we wouldn't have to talk about oppression if people didn't have to live it.” If you have any interest in know more about trans issues, go watch her interview with Oprah. Read her column. Buy her book. The woman's amazing.

We filed out. Perfectly awed. Went back to our Presbyterian church basement. Ordered Domino's. Watched Pulp Fiction. And, most importantly I learned how to smoke a bowl.

One of our GSA members had brought their bubbler and they took me out with them. I learned all about THC and how to light it and that you have to inhale it to get a high. I feel like the most expert pothead who's never done pot.

In the most shocking turn of events I went to another party. Two in less then a span of week. It was intense. We were practically in San Francisco. I had on 4 and ½ inch wedges. I wasn't drinking. I put half a shot of vodka in my grape soda. That was about as lit as I was getting.

It was great. There was a make shift stripper pole. One of the boys knocked it down. The cutest one there was a reject Prince Harry. I stayed in my corner with Blondie, sipping on my grape soda. One of the girls told me “she loved my entire wardrobe.”

That's what a good cheetah print wedge can do for a wardrobe.

I told her she looked like Emma Roberts. She blushed. We bonded. I had such a great time. Especially, when they got so drunk that they tried to throw eggs onto the roof across the street. This is what college is about.

About midnight we stumbled back to the Presbyterians. Got cookies from Insomnia and smoked another bowl. Passed out asleep and didn't leave until 11:00 the next day.

It was a successful trip. I finally found out what “kush” was. Drank straight pumpkin pie from a smoothie place and learned that Concord isn't a state.

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A Hodgepodge

11/24/2015

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In an unsurprising turn of events nothing happened to me. I was convinced something good would come along that I could poor my heart into and update you about my life.

The worst thing that happened was my inability to send a fax. I was born in the nineties, but I was not breathing and living through the office revelation that was the fax machine. My earliest memories start with hitting a baby one more time.

Picture it. It was me and one of my favorite people on campus. She's young. 23, maybe 25. Also not old enough to experience the fax machine. And, we could not figure it out. We struggled. We punched in numbers. We gave up. I ended up going to Kinkos and spending $2.40 to send a one page document. One Page.

My same favorite person also put in her two weeks notice. That was probably the worst part of my week. I see her every day. And, now I'll have to work with someone else? What if it's a man. I've come to accept the fact that I lost the heterosexual male crowd a long time ago. But, what if he's a man. That's straight. Because, if we're being really honest the gay ones don't like me that much either. I'm just very stressed.

I also found out that one of my favorite people is FINALLY dating this girl. They made it official over fall break. It honestly bothers me that it took him multiple weeks to mention it to me. He knows how invested I am in their love. They are my Brad and Angelina. I deserved to know.

The funniest thing is that they thought this was some big surprise. Like they spend so much time together. To the point that it's clear that their not “just friends”. They're the prettiest couple I know and I cry a little inside.

I also went to the zoo. I haven't been in forever, but I went with my GSA. Our treasurer was there. I was there. We had a really good time.

I don't know zoos make me kind of sad. The animals look sad, which makes me sad. The enclosures don't seem big enough or nice enough. They just don't seem happy and that makes my cold little heart shatter.

Truly my life is so boring. I'm sitting here typing, trying to figure out what to tell you. I watched Scream Queens on Tuesday. It was actually so funny, because I was walking back from the zoo when I pass this line of cars.

I look good as I always do and this car window rolls down. It's the director of one of my programs and she's like do you want to watch this documentary with us? And, I said (still walking) “Nooooooooo”. She says “are you going to the meeting tomorrow?” and I was like “ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

It was very uncomfortable experience of disappointment. I also got a certificate saying how fabulous I am. Clearly. I already knew, but now I have written proof. I was also informed that I was “iconic” and that I show our campus “what liberal really means.”

I don't know what that last thing means, but I like the way it sounds.

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Neck Pains & Blackouts

Penis Necklaces & Meeting Bonnie McKee

Summer on a Dime

Happy Belated Birthday

How To Be A Heartbreaker

Liebster Award

Wild Sex & Gay Bars

Hangers & A Sweater Later

The Environmental Conference

A Hodgepodge

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