Chugging Beer and Sorority Formal.

Alrighty.  Long weekend accomplished, and today starts a week full of studying for exams and working on projects and trying to keep my A's in my classes.  I guess I could have been a good student last Friday, but day drinking for 9 hours on the beach seemed like a much better idea.  We played "we forgot a cooler so finish the beer before it gets warm" game and then found a bar that had a special for "jungle juice."  I have no idea what was in that drink, but it didn't taste like the jungle and it for sure was not juice.  Regardless, it is officially spring in my eyes, and I can't wait for the next opportunity to get back to the sand and surf. 

I forfeited St. Patty's Day, since it was my sorority's sisterhood retreat that day and we stayed overnight in a hotel.  I didn't really mind giving up Bud Light died green and sloppy block party festivals.  I usually try not to write much about my sorority here, for a variety of reasons, but it was basically my entire weekend so I can't really avoid it.  Unless you want to hear about what I ate for breakfast.  (Egg and cheese on a whole wheat English muffin.)  It was a good weekend, and very busy.  And the fact that I didn't make it to one of the events makes me a little weary for the very senior-tastic weekend in April hosting the bachelorette party, formal, and sendoff banquet back to back to back.  I'm going to need some serious Advil and coconut water that Sunday morning if you know what I mean. 

Speaking of formal.  Want to hear a funny story?  Of course you do.  This will be the second formal I've gotten to attend my four years.  Last year we didn't have one, due to extenuating circumstances, and the year before that, when I was a sophomore, I was sent home for, uh... let's just say tequila wasn't a good idea.  Whoops.  I'm assuming that my boyfriend will be my date this year, which is funny because that sophomore year oh so long ago he was supposed to be my date, before we even started dating... He turned me down because it was some huge UFC fight on TV.  Seriously?  I should invite someone else this year just as payback.  Just kidding.  Yeah, my boyfriend and I have quite a funny story.  It all started when his old roommate took me out on a date two years ago.  But I'll save that Cinderella tale for a rainy day.  And I'll be damned if Mohamed Ali rises from his grave and is scheduled to fight The Incredible Hulk, my boyfriend can TiVo it.  Unless he wants to be dating Rowdy Rhonda, he will happily be dancing the night away with me instead. 

Have a happy week!
Love,
N

Moss, Astronauts, and Togas

Good morning Vietnam!  Just kidding, I wish I was in Vietnam right now.  Actually, I'm a little intimidated by the "eastern world," and that whole Vietnam-war-ordeal back in the day doesn't exactly make me think of a luscious paradise.  Unless your idea of paradise involves land mines and guerrilla warfare.  And I guess technically Vietnam wasn't a war, since Congress never declared it.  What the hell is with these tangents...

I am exhausted.  Not like didn't-sleep-much-last-night exhausted.  More like, thinking-of-everything-I-need-to-do-this-weekend exhausted.  Seriously, it's nonstop from here on out until Sunday, and then I get to wake up Monday morning and hit the ground running with school and work again.  It's overwhelming, yet I can't seem to force myself to get any further ahead with my schoolwork.  I wonder how many iced coffees I'll go through today.  I'm praying I can whip up a toga for our social tonight in like, 30 minutes, so I can have time to nap. 

Yeah, I have to make a toga.  I've been in a sorority for the past 4 years and I can honestly say I have no clue how to do that.  What, you mean Animal House wasn't a real depiction of fraternity and sorority life?  Did I just blow your mind?  Don't get me wrong, we sorority women love us some theme parties.  We would take any excuse to go find a retro eighties-prom style dress at Goodwill, or sexify a pirate outfit for a night of drinking and sexual innuendos about "plundering your booty."  The guys, on the other hand, are less creative with their themes.  I swear, they must sit around during meetings and just be like, "well, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid, so let's theme this one Astronauts and Space Hoes."  I'm seriously not kidding about that one.  So, my point was, I've never been to a toga-themed party before, so tonight is a pretty big deal. 

Then, immediately following a night of debauchery, I will be engaging in some bronzing at the beach, followed by a bachelor’s WNBA party catered by Captain D's (I seriously will not stop quoting that video,) a charity walk for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation (yes, I care about humanity), a super-secret retreat event (except I'm practically Sherlock Holmes so I guessed it, but I won't tell you,) and then promptly dying from exhaustion in my bed at approximately 10am on Sunday.  I swear to Jesus and Tim Tebow, God bless the soul who wakes me up from that coma-- I mean, nap.  It just may be the apocalypse for them.  I guess being busy beats being bored.  Sometimes I think I'm the laziest ass on this planet, what with always wishing I could lay in bed and watch Food Network and eat spinach dip.  Then I remembered that sloths exist, and they are so lazy that moss actually grows on them.  I haven't reached that level of botanic idleness yet. 

Love,
N

Stuff I Shouldn't Say

A lot of controversial things are floating around in my brain today, but I'm going to write about the one that will get me in the least amount of trouble.  Well, actually, it could possibly cost me a job post-graduation, and I may get some "oh-my-god-you-are-the-devil" comments on it, but what the hell... no one has commented on anything yet.  If you haven't seen this hilarious YouTube video about sh*t nobody says, go watch it now and laugh your little hiney off.  This post will make a lot more sense.  Then go touch my screen, please. 

I was recently suggested to join a conservative job bank to aid with my career-hunting, and thought it would be a fantastic idea since I am, in fact, registered as a Republican.  I said this was going to be controversial, didn't I?  I think I can bring up politics by now with you; we are way past our first date.  But you still can't spend the night... I'm not that kind of girl.  Anyways, in order to receive the job postings, I first had to fill out a survey asking about my support for or against certain organizations, policies, and politicians.  Know what I learned about myself?  I'm not conservative enough.  By golly, I can't stand those hippies occupying everything but a job, and I damn well am a member of the Grand Old Party, but there are some (few) things that conservatives would say that I just don't agree with.  Let the controversy begin.  Drum roll, please::: sh*t I shouldn't say...

Why can't gays marry?  If straight men and women can suffer the bonds of marriage through sickness and health and getting fat and bald and saggy boobs, why can't gay men and women be subject to the same torture?  I mean joy.  Plus, I'm pretty sure the majority of gay couples I observe in the media stay together way longer than most hetero marriages.  Cough Kim Kardashian cough.  I just don't get what the big deal is.  Personally, I think some stuck up repub girls somewhere got pissed realizing that if gays could marry, their weddings would be so much more adorable and well-designed than theirs. 

I'm going to lay off the whole smushmortion issue, because it's obnoxiously touchy and I don't want anyone showing up to my house with posters of fetuses being sucked up by a vacuum.  Gross.  I hate vacuuming up dead cockroaches, imagine how I would feel about that.  Birth control is another issue all together, though.  Like, what's so wrong with the pill?  I get that we shouldn't be teaching the middle-school generations Karma Sutra, but let's be honest, turning the other cheek and expecting that just because we tell them "don't have sex until you're married" doesn't mean they're going to listen.  Have you met a 15-year-old?  They wouldn't know obedience if it walked up and and smacked them on their acne-ridden faces.  I'm not saying the federal government needs to be sending out mailers of Ortho-Tri-Cyclen to all households in America, but making it illegal is just going to put more unwanted children into the welfare system we hate so much. 

Alright, so, basically, just those two things.  Everything else I'm siding with the elephants.  Gun control?  Oh, I'm sorry Dems, but did you want to blatantly disobey that document that basically guides our entire nation's government?  What's it called again?  Oh, yeah, the Constitution.  Banning firearms would just put us one step closer to becoming communists, and I heard they only have one choice for fast food restaurants... do you want to be feeding your unwanted born children Captain D's forever? 

And seriously, why are liberals trying to redistribute wealth so much?  You know why the rich are so rich?  Because they occupy jobs, not streets.  They took advantage of an education and learned how to invest their profits.  And, to be quite honest, poorer students get so much financial aid and minorities have so many more scholarship opportunities that, if put on the same academic level, it is more difficult for me as a working-middle-class white girl to do the whole college thing. 

Oh, yeah, and then people want to stop piddling away money on our military forces... We're not Vatican City where we can just get a divine miracle from God should danger bark our way.  We need a military, guys, and a strong one at that.  Especially if you're taking away my right to own my own personal pink plated handgun... Is the government going to fund a Nightlight-In-Every-Home program to protect us from the bad guys? 

This is probably the longest post I've written to date, but if you've read this far through it and are shaking your head while steam comes out of your ears in disgusted anger, thanks.  Just a disclaimer that these are my personal political viewpoints.  I really don't have any intentions of telling you what's right and wrong.  You could probably ask the Pope for advice like that.  We all get our own vote for a reason, right?

Love,
N

Typhoid Fever and Rum Pineapples

So, my anxiety has taken over this week.  I am just a huge messy ball of fidgeting, racing thoughts, and manicure-chewing.  Not to mention the only place I could sleep comfortably last night was my couch.  Weird, because my bed is amazing.  Why, you ask? Well, I think this whole graduation thing is getting to me.  I feel like I have to make the absolute most of my last 3 months, and sometimes that means what I want to do and what I want to do less but am obligated to do conflict.  I get guilty skipping class.  I'm definitely not one to just flake out on responsibilities.  So, instead, I have anxiety fits and break down and get miserable.  It's really a vicious cycle and according to Web MD I'm either getting ulcers or stomach cancer or typhoid fever.  I'm going with the last one. I used to contract it a lot playing Oregon Trail; it's probably still lingering. 

In my haste to make everything this last semester perfect, I've managed to be disappointed in almost every "milestone" possible.  Let me say loud and clear, sound the horns, in black and white: I will be at the local Mexican restaurant on Cinco De Mayo, the day after my graduation, drinking a pitcher of sangria to myself.  Come hell, high water, plagues of locusts, a flood drastic enough to require an arch, or Jesus himself, I will be there.  If you would like to join me, this is your cordial invitation.  

I am wiping my brow and saying a little prayer of thanks that I changed my diploma to reflect my Economics major, instead of my Political Science major.  Oh the perks of being a nerd and having two majors.  Why is that such a big deal?  Well, there are pros and cons to this situation.  The benefit of having my degree say Economics is that I graduate with the College of Business and therefore graduate on May 4th, not May 5th like the College of Sciences does.  Case in point, my family will be done congratulating me by the time the festival of tequila and tortillas rolls around.  The downside to being an Economics major, besides the unfortunate looking males in my classes?  My tassel is the color "drab," which is apparently a really attractive greenish-brown color.  Thank God I look good in just about everything.  No, Herff Jones, I do not want to buy an extra souvenir tassel for 6 million dollars when it is that ugly. 

Did I mention Herff Jones is probably the biggest crock of crap I have ever seen?  They literally rape students worse than the jail scene in American History X for cap and gown rentals, class rings, and random other junk no one needs but costs 16 thousand dollars and is engraved with your graduation year.  (I was going to make a Kite Runner joke, but it was too good of a book to be a jackass about.) 

My saving grace this week is that it is supposed to be gorgeous out this Friday, so I can relax by the pool with a homemade rum pineapple and pretend I'm still on vacation. 

Love,
N

Spring Break Was Just Fantastish.

YAY I'm back!  Well, that's more like what you're probably saying.  In my head, I'm groaning and cursing the farmers who invented Daylight Savings and the part of the semester between Spring Break and Summer.  Damn corn and education.  How was my trip, you ask?  Well, if you ignore the fact that the weatherman is a crotchety old man and smited the Bahamas with rain and clouds, and the fact that I'm pretty sure the cruise ship was just an over sized yatch with how seasick everyone was, and the issue of the crybaby friend that no one will ever vacation with again due to his obscenely bad luck, it was a pretty typical of collegiate spring break.  Our 20-something group almost got kicked out of seated dinner, someone fell into the harbor in Nassau, bar tabs were more than the cruise price, there was an incident involving being banned from Senior Frogs (oh yes, it's possible) and I am now nice and tan.  My best friend and I wound up with 16 yard-stick plastic cups in our miniature stateroom cabin.  I felt like the Oprah show, except instead of new cars, everyone got drunk.  Did you know you can buy a bottle of rum in the Bahamas for $14 and walk down the street swigging from it?  It's the definition of classy. 

The trip back home helped me sympathize with the Jews that wandered the desert for all those years.  It took us forever to get off the boat, and then we sat in the port for a good 3 hours waiting for what is probably world's slowest driver to pick us up.  I still can't shower without feeling like the entire room is rocking back and forth, and I think I'd be okay to never hear the term "YOLO!" ever again. 

Needless to say, jumping an hour ahead added to the exhaustion and hangover that results post-Spring-Break means that Monday is the last thing I wanted to wake up to this morning.  It's extra disappointing there there wasn't a 24-hour free pizza bar waiting for me on the 12th deck when I came home from the bar the other night.  I had to actually cook my dinner yesterday, instead of just ordering my three-course meal off a menu to be delivered by a very nice foreign waiter in a bow tie.  What do you mean I have to make my own bed?  I will say this, I am glad that strangers aren't going through my toiletries anymore, sniffing my mouth wash to ensure it isn't vodka and blue food coloring. 

If you'll excuse me, I need to go play Rack City and make awkward I-saw-you-intoxicated-last-week eye contact with everyone I see on campus who was on the same cruise. 

Love,
N

A Princess and a Serial Killer

Oh hey there superstars.  I'm blogging at you today from my bed.  That's right, it's officially break, and I am officially responsibility-free until March 12th.  Okay, I guess I should go to the bank and run errands for the cruise and clean up the house.  But basically, no real responsibilities, woohoo!

Last night, my sorority had a date party downtown.  What's a date party, you ask?  It's well, a party we host, where everyone brings a date.  What a striking concept, right? Anyways, it was themed, as is every party in college and sorority life.  I swear, we'd theme a funeral if it wasn't rude.  The theme of the evening was "Dynamic Duos," so my boyfriend and I went as Princess Peach and Mario from the old-school Nintendo days.  When I say I was Princess Peach, I mean that I always think I'm a princess, and it gave me an excuse to wear pink and a tiara.  And when I say my boyfriend was Mario, I mean he looked like a child molester in a pair of Goodwill overalls and a fake stick-on mustache.  Or, as we were calling it, a molesterstache.  If you don't believe me, you go put your twenty-something boyfriend in a pair of light-wash denim overalls and a mustache you could only picture properly belonging on a large Hispanic man with a guitar.  At one point in the night, I wore the mustache and got asked to dance by a stranger.  Hello, I'm wearing a mustache, creeper.

Needless to say, now that I'm of legal drinking age, these little parties and socials are way more fun than I remember my first few years.  Except, of course, that one social where everyone dressed as pin-up girls.  I'm pretty sure there's only 6 other girls left who haven't graduated and remember that night, but let's just say it wasn't exactly a good example if you're trying to dispel Animal House myths about Greek life.  My hangover day has been productive, though.  I've already retrieved my car from campus and eating a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut.  What have you done today?  Found a cure for cancer and fed all of Africa?  Psh, that's child's play compared to laying around and eating junk food.  Step your game up.

Alright cool cats, there's so much hairspray in my curls from last night that it just may spontaneously combust.  I should probably go grab a shower.

Love,
N

Red Lobster

Ugh, sorry for not posting yesterday, guys.  I've just been non-stop with school work that needs to be finished up before Spring Break.  Did I mention that's next week?  Yep, pretty sure I have.  I'm going to try and keep this short, because I have one last midterm standing between me and the sweet, delicious glory of lounging on a boat deck at 2:30 in the afternoon with a daiquiri in hand.  And I haven't really started studying for it.  Oops. 

In between all the hectic study-guide making and presentation-perfecting, I cashed in my free week of tanning at a tanning salon, in hopes of sticking it to the weather man and getting bronze regardless.  Well, I think I'm a few shades past bronze and closer to "lobster."  Can I have some cheddar bay biscuits over here please?  I should have listened to the girl when she told me to only tan for 8 minutes, but I was so anxious to look like I could possibly be Nigerian that I didn't listen.  I've also been eating obnoxiously healthy, so at least I feel like a Nigerian.  Get it, starving African kid? Haha.  Seriously, a girl ate Burger King in my night class yesterday and I was practically drooling I was so hungry for greasy, cheesy food coated in ketchup.  Just a few more days and I will be stuffing myself with delicious cruise food.  I hope my boyfriend doesn't mind me picking off his plate, too.  He eats like a bird so I'm sure he won't mind.  Then again, an NFL linebacker eats like a bird compared to me when I'm hungry. 

Just 6 hours stand between me and sweet freedom, and my sorority has a date party tonight, so I can't wait to start my break off dressed up downtown. 

Love,
N