Labor Day Weekend Was a Success.

However, I am deeply troubled that my most viewed post was one I created while intoxicated. Not something I can be too proud of.

This post is going to be boring. I just wanted to post something while I was sober so I could draw attention away from the previous post.

The weekend was pretty awesome. Not gonna lie. I spent it like most everybody did. Friday night ended up in a basement of this man-cave-house (I think something like 5 guys lives there) listening to the roommates or friends of roommates or random people who hang out at the house jam for a while. Then Brittany's boyfriend and his friends played a while too. One thing I love about living in Nashville is that live music is always accessible. And not just live music, good live music. Oh, and this basement, was not like a typical basement. It had like a whole light system. Strobe lights, christmas lights, whatever those lights are that put random specks of colored light in random places, all that. And this completely totally wasted/high guy (Never seen a person so happy in my life. I almost asked him for a little of whatever he was on) ran the lights while the other guys played. It was like a mini concert. But more awesome because I was sitting on a comfortable, albeit probably disgusting couch with my roomie, drunk and oblivious. It was fantastic. It's so nice to go to a college gathering that isn't hosted by horny frat guys. Not like any of them come after me anyway. I guess I'm not what a horny frat guy is looking for (drunk, easy, in a sorority, "hot" by societal standards, blonde, etc.) So far, I've spent past college parties not drinking for fear of passing out and getting peed on, and keeping creeps off of Nina. Not very fun. I guess I just never know where the fun is. But damnit, junior year, I'm gonna find it!. 


Anyway, Saturday was a little more mellow. Me, Nina & Ben hung out at the apartment and turned watching Criminal Minds into drinking game, which is a way to make an otherwise grim show hilarious. I don't need to say anything about my mental state. Y'all saw the post. Sunday was boring. Well, it was until I made it fun. We went to IHOP in the morning, and then at night all the roommates who were in town had dates. I apparently did not get the date night memo, so I was left to myself. At first it was kind of a bummer, but then I realized that I had the apartment to myself, so I shut the blinds, turned on Lady Gaga and danced around the apartment with no clothes on. 


I love that quality of mine. I can find entertainment in any situation (for me, not necessarily for anyone else.) Some of you might find it sad that I enjoy these moments to myself, like maybe I should get out more, be social. I'm proud! How many people can honestly say that their entertainment is self-sustained? I love knowing that my life will never be boring. 


Now, yes, it was a little embarrassing when Ben and Nina came back in. Thankfully I was in my robe (I got a little cold), but I was still dancing. But that didn't get me down. I just continued my personal party (ha. sounds so dirty) in the privacy of my bedroom (sounds even more dirty. There's no way to make that sentence not sound inappropriate. Y'all will just have to trust me I guess.)

Monday was pretty boring. So was today. I am having, er, sorry male reader(s?), certain female events that lead to intense cravings for very specific food. The trouble is, I never know what I want until I see it. So I was wandering around Kroger thinking of things I might want inorder to make my trip a little shorter. It didn't help that I was starving. I started off thinking I wanted chocolate. But then I remembered the tubs of Tollhouse cookie dough I saw last time, and thought maybe I wanted that. But no. I settled on a bag of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. They were calling out to me.

It's only after you eat almost the entire bag and you feel like dying turd that you decide to look at the back. You're never happy with what you find.

(That reads: Serving Size: 2, Servings Per Container: 7, Calories: 240. Holy shit.)

I'm not saying I ate the whole bag. I almost did. But that's not the point. The point is, I feel like I could blow chunks at any second, and I'm beginning to realize that I'm going to have to go to the gym tomorrow. Or I could put it off until Thursday....

Milk is Mean.

Today marks the first day of the rest of my life.

I've finally come to accept my lactose intolerance.

I decided to go to Kroger, after a lot of thinking, and make some non-dairy purchases: Lactaid, Soy milk, Kosher shredded cheddar cheese, and just for shits and gigs, some Kosher Animal Crackers.

Picking out the Lactaid was the first obstacle. It's just embarrassing carrying around a box of Lactaid Chewable tablets (I know. Nasty. But the pills were $8 more). I don't know why, and I'm sure no one notices, but it's still embarrassing to me. Anything that says "to stop Bloating! Gas! Diarrhea!" on the front of it is not something I want to have any association with. I don't want the world to know that I have any of those bodily functions. I imagine people walking by and saying to whoever they're with, "Oh my gosh, did you see that?? She has a box of Lactaid! She get's diarrhea!!! What a loser! Hahahaha." I concealed the loser-tablets as best I could and continued to shop.

The next thing I needed was soy milk. I didn't see any Silk, which is the only brand that I'm familiar with. Brittany (roommate) told me that rather than soy milk, her boyfriend drinks Lactaid milk. At least I think that's what she said. I don't always listen. I saw that, and I saw Kroger brand lactose free milk. I immediately went for the cheap choice, and sat there holding it for a while. The Lactaid Milk was over $5, so it was out. The Kroger brand was a little over $2. But did I really want to buy cheap fake milk? Is fake milk something you can skimp on? Then I realized that it was fake milk. That's probably the grossest thing ever. So I went back to the soy milk. So many options. Not too many brands, but so many different flavors. Plain Soy milk, vanilla soy milk, light vanilla soy milk, chocolate soy milk, light plain soy milk. I found myself missing the simplicity of picking out milk. Just Skim Milk. One gallon. Done. I finally chose the light vanilla organic soy milk, and I was so not looking forward to trying it.

I have to admit, it was little fun standing in front of the Kosher food and looking at all the new things offered to me. Growing up Presbyterian, I've never had any need to shop in the Kosher aisle. To be honest, I'm a little surprised that the Green Hills Kroger even has a Kosher section, as there is no synagogue anywhere near that I'm aware of. In St. Louis they're freaking everywhere. Although, we also have actual Kosher grocery stores in St. Louis, not just a section in the International Aisle. I almost bought a box of frozen latkes, but decided against it at the last minute because I'm broke. I may have to go back and buy them though... I decided to go with a bag of Animal Crackers, cause why not. (They ended up tasting like ass hole. I kept trying to convince myself that I'd get used to them and that they didn't taste like pepto bismol, but after about 5 or 6 I gave up.) I also picked up a pack of shredded cheese that hopefully will taste somewhat like cheese. I decided not to go with the sliced cheese that was labeled "American Cheese Food." Cheese Food? Why does there need to be food in there? Is it actual cheese or is it just cheese-like? I didn't want to know. I figured with the shredded cheese I'll only be putting it in my eggs and stuff, so I wont be able to taste the difference.

The Kroger Coupon machine must've been bored. Once I'd finished checking out, it spat out a coupon for Digiorno frozen pizzas. "Get More of What You Love." More like "Get More of What Gives You Gas." I was not amused.

I realize that this whole post is about my experience with non-dairy food. That's really sad. Not much happened today. So I'll keep going with that then.

So I went home, and since I hadn't eaten breakfast decided to try eating the soy milk with a bowl of cereal. Upon pouring the not-from-a-cow-milk into my bowl, I immediately regretted my decision. It was brown and murky. Not anything like the milk I know and love. It's juice squeezed from a bean. A bean! How is that supposed to go on cereal? Someone please tell me! Much to my surprise it didn't taste too bad after a while. I was pleased with my choice. Then came the Animal Cracker fiasco. I needed to get the taste out of my mouth with something. So I decided to make a bowl of instant Velveeta mac and cheese and test the Lactaid tablets. I don't want to give details, but I'll just say they worked. I didn't have a stomach ache all day. Well, except for right after I finished my dinner at Sylvan Park (corn bread, fried chicken, greens, pinto beans, more mac and cheese and a hefty slice of pecan pie. Sylvan Park is the tits farreal). But I blame that on the fried food.

So overall, Soy milk = actually okay, Kedem Animal Crackers = never eat them ever, Lactaid Chewables = horribly disgusting, but they get the job done, Sylvan Park = still the tits.

I'm tired. Good night.

How To Be Cool (According to a Frat Guy)

Foreword: Sorry y'all. I was feeling really spiteful when I wrote this in my New Testament class. I've met a handful of nice Frat Guys in my college experience, so please note if you are my friend, I was just frustrated with your douchebag brothers for existing and being the way that they are. Please tell them to shut up, because really they're making you look bad.

So you've decided to join a fraternity. Congratulations! Welcome to the party. You probably decided to participate in Greek Life to get laid. It makes sense. You don't play on any of the sports teams, so without the Frat you'd be hopeless. You feel as though your skills: ability to drink a lot, ultimate frisbee, and a rich father, would be best used in this way. Here are some guidelines to help you become the best Frat Bro you can be.

1) Get yourself a pair of pink shorts. 

They must be light pink, but if anyone asks, you say they're "salmon." If they can't be pink, khaki or any other kind of pastel works. If they have little sailboats or alligators on them - even better.

cool pussy-magnet

2) Wear a shirt with a collection of Greek letters across the front. This makes you automatically cool and the ladies will throw panties at you all the time.

3) If you haven't seen Animal House - no. If you can't recite the entire movie line-by-line, you will fail at being a frat guy. Just give up now.

4) Get yourself a HBSGF (Hot Blonde Sorority Girl Friend). Most likely, all the sorority girls will be looking for a FGBF (Frat Guy Boy Friend), and none of them will be picky. You don't need to be hot by any standards. You just have to be in a fraternity. That's why you need to be fast and pick out a blonde one while they're still available. If the worst should happen, and all the blonde ones are taken, a brunette or a redhead will do. But, she must be hot, although, admittedly not as hot as a blonde would've been. Maybe encourage her to dye her hair. The HBSGF doesn't serve as a typical girlfriend. She's not a companion. She's a trophy displaying your manhood. 

If you don't want to settle for a lowly brunette, you could always go the single route. That way you can have sex with other girls and not get it trouble! Just make sure you get a couple rubbers and go to all the beginning of the year parties. There will be lots of loose freshmen looking to shoot their reputation to hell. 

When it comes to sex: if it breathes, smells like booze, and has decent-ish tits, it can and WILL go home with you. If you're looking for a sure thing go for the girl with 6 or more solo cups stacked in her hand, or the one who's walking around asking everyone where her shoes are. If all else fails: roofie her drink. Your brother's will not find this to be immoral or wrong, rather they'll think it's funny and give you fist bumps. 

If you haven't had sex, lie. There are no virgin Frat Guys. Well, except for a couple in the Christian Frat, but they don't really count.

5) College is a vehicle for you to get stoned/wasted/laid, and serves no other purpose. While you never do your homework and outwardly express your disinterest in class, you should always come prepared with things to say. Especially if you don't even know anything about the topic. Just talk as though you are an expert on everything, because let's face it, you're in a frat so you must be. And when you run out of things to say, repeat what you said before but rephrase it to make it sound as though you're saying something different. Talk for a really long time. Everyone in the class will be super impressed by how effortlessly smart you are, even though they should've guessed. I mean, you are wearing pink shorts. What more do these bitches need?

6) Beer = water. Always beer. Always. The only exception is protein powder shakes. If you can find a way to mix that with beer, go for it. It will only make you look that much cooler. 

7) Lingo is important. Once you join a fraternity, it becomes okay to throw out racial slurs, as you probably won't have any black or asian brothers. If there is a token black guy, call him Brownie. Trust me, he'll think it's hilarious and you two will be best friends in no time. You also need to know the greek alphabet. The word dude and bro are acceptable ways of greeting anyone. 

8) Since you aren't good at any real sports, you need to become super serious about your frisbee throwing ability. You can't play baseball or football. Frisbee is all you have. Women will find this to be refreshing. Baseball and Football are such pretentious sports anyway. 

9) Important people who you must know:

-John Belushi

-Ralph Lauren

-Jack Johnson

You now have the knowledge to go out and conquer the Greek world. Use it wisely, and best of luck to you.

PS: if you really want to, maybe go play frisbee in the middle of Wedgewood around 5pm and get hit by cars. That would be awesome.

Maybe I should start early and get a cat now.

Watching Bridezillas. Mainly because I'm bored, also because My Fair Wedding with David Tutera isn't on and I finished the episode of Firefly I was watching.

There is something about this show that always puzzles me: These women are complete and total nightmares. Their families hate them, their wedding parties hate them, the vendors are afraid of them. The groom-to-be always looks like he could burst into tears at any second. But that's just it - how do these women manage to get a guy to marry them?

Now, okay. I really don't want a husband anytime soon. I couldn't handle being married. I just learned how to make a grilled cheese sandwich a couple days ago. I can barely manage to clean up my own mess, let alone anyone else's. And the idea of having to share a bathroom with a male sends me into a frenzy. I was with a guy for 14 months and I maybe pooped at his house twice. And those were only dire cases. When we went on Family vacations together, this proved to be a major problem. I could avoid it when we went to the beach with my family because we didn't have to share a bathroom. I could tell him to go play monopoly with my sister and I'd sneak off and say that Anna or Taylor called with boy problems. When I went with his family to the Poconos for 10 days, we had to share a bathroom. I couldn't come up with distractions. And you can only hold it for so long. So I was forced to, well... All I'm saying is we broke up 2 weeks later, and I'm fairly certain that's why.

Anyway, other than my tendency to digest and dispose of food, I think I'm a pretty decent person. Sure, I'm no saint, but I'm definitely better than a Bridezilla. Which brings me to my point:

I don't understand how the women on this show found men who want to marry them, and I don't even have a boyfriend. I feel like that's insanely unfair. I'm not asking for much! Just a date every here and there with a guy who's not crazy, or boring, or stupid, or secretly involved with a psycho-bitch girlfriend back home. And you know what? I'm nice. I'm warm and friendly. I won't yell at you. I have nodes, so yelling isn't really an option. I won't throw your cigarettes in the sink and then shove them down your shirt and tell you I'll divorce you if you get lung cancer, and then tell you that I'll show up to your funeral and replace the flowers with a pack of camels to let everyone know how you died. (Real bitch said that to her fiance. She also told him she'd break all his Star Wars collector items. She called them "toys." I almost cried.) All these crazy women are snatching up all the good men and I'm left with, what? NOTHING.

It's crap, I tell you. Hot steaming crap.

Life in My Big-Girl Apartment

Pretty Kitchen 

I'm back at Belmont! I've been quite busy. Move-in day was the 22nd, class started yesterday. So far, I'm really enjoying living in an apartment vs. a dorm. First off, I have a kitchen (actually that's kind of a blessing and a curse, cause since I don't have a meal plan, I have to learn how to cook.) I have 3 roommates: Kristin, Brittany, and Nina, and we each have our own rooms, so I can be in my underwear for about 40% of the day and let my alarm ring for 10 minutes without disturbing anyone. Also, we have a washer/dryer in our apartment, so we don't need to lug our clothes to another building. We live on the 4th floor, so we have a little bit of a climb, but it's no big deal.  All of the roommates get along well. Kristin is adjusting to Nina's and my weird behavior (making weird noises, replying to sexual innuendos with a chuckle and "that's what she said," and affectionately calling one another "poopy." I missed my best friend.) My plan was to slowly ease her into our weirdness, but Nina agreed to no such plan. Hopefully she doesn't grow to resent us too quickly. 

Pretty Living Room

Aside from the beautiful apartment with the beautiful view, my classes are going well. I've only been to each class once, so they haven't really had much time to be anything other than mundane. I had Historical Documentary Filmmaking today, which I'm rather excited about. A few familiar faces: a girl who(m?) I've known to be very severe when it comes to prepositions, specifically their roles in sentence structure, and a boy from my sociology class who has a name like "Daniel" or "David" but, for whatever reason, prefers to be called "Chaz." Other classes are pretty similar. A lot of douchey frat-bro types in my New Testament class, an unfortunate way of making an already uncomfortable class that much more unbearable. I'll be spending the whole 50 minutes praying that they all get chlamydia or testicular cancer so that they feel ashamed of their penises and no longer feel the need to talk about them all the time. I think Media Ethics will be rather stimulating, as the first class involved a lot of discussion. Anytime I get to be obnoxious and state my opinions as if they were facts I tend to have a good time. 

As for campus life, things seem to be pretty normal. I re-established my status as loser when my dress got stuck in the bottom of my back pack (partially) exposing my ass-area. I didn't realize it until I'd already walked across campus and into the apartment complex. I went to Bongo Java today and observed the wide-eyed hipster new-comers soaking in the indie-snob coffee shop in all it's smokey, tattooed glory. It's like the mothership has called them home. 

You know what I've noticed/been told that I'm really bad at? Flirting. I'm not a good flirt. A guy that I like is much more likely to think that I don't care for him or that I'm just a weirdo before he ever believes that I actually have feelings for him. The whole ordeal stresses me out. 

What am I suppose to talk to him about? How can I even talk to him while we're in class? Am I just supposed to turn around and give him flirty looks? How does one look "flirty" without being scary? When I finally figure out something to say that isn't completely ridiculous, how do I make it come off as flirting and not sexual aggressiveness? What if what I intend to be flirty comes off as creepy? How do I bounce back from that? What if I turn around to talk to him and I fall out of my chair, or I let out a big fart? Maybe I shouldn't have had grilled cheese for lunch. Would he buy it if I blamed it on someone else? What if he becomes aware of my lactose-intolerance and finds it repulsive? 

By the time this all runs through my head, I get myself too scared and I end up talking to him like he's no one special. Even when I plan ahead of time, going through all the possible scenarios, it never pans out like I want it to. I think maybe I'm trying too hard and thinking about it too much. If only he knew me better, he'd know. The reason I look nauseous whenever you talk to me and why I can't look you in the eyes is that I like you. You know how sometimes, when we do talk, I'll touch your arm or your knee just for a second? Yeah. That's because I like you.  I wish he knew that. I wish it was that easy and I didn't have to change anything and I could be awkward and unusually shy for the rest of my life and not end up alone. Crap. 

I eat my feelings.

I should really stop doing that.

I find some temporary comfort in stuffing my face with an entire roll of chips ahoy cookies after a long day at work. Cleaning up after people until 11:15 was immediately followed by a cop pulling me over. (Apparently I almost caused a serious accident. I'm a shamefully bad driver.). After crying the whole way home (partially because I'm a wimp and cry every time anyone yells at me, and also probably because I realized I could've seriously hurt someone), I knew that only those cookies could truly understand what I'd been through. Besides, they always know exactly what to say.

There are certain foods for every shitty situation. In really dire times, all I need is a spoon and a jar of Nutella, and hopefully a house to myself so no one judges me. The stereotypical pint of Ben & Jerry's is reserved for boy trouble, and is usually paired with an episode or two of Friends. However, I may need to switch to something different, because as my age has increased, so has my lactose-intolerance, and, well, that's not fun for anybody. Another thing I find particularly wonderful when faced with boy trouble, or any kind of stress that I don't want to deal with: a box of chocolates, like Russell Stover or a Whitman's Sampler.

I guess the cookies made me feel better because the cop made me feel like a 5 year old, and chocolate chip cookies always made me happy when I was little. Although, Chips Ahoy has nothing on Grandmama's cookies. You wanna feel like you're biting right into love itself, eat one of Grandmama's cookies. Hell, eat 5 or 6. The dough is even better. Now I wanna go to Owensboro and eat cookie dough.

All I'm saying is that I need to find other ways of making myself happy before I turn into a hippo.

Sleepovers

Today Allison Moehrle turned 14. She had a birthday party. Actually all the girls are still in our basement, probably exchanging stories, gossiping and at least 3 of them are talking about boys, leaving the other 4 completely lost. It's very interesting observing sleepovers from an outside perspective. My mother hates them. Absolutely completely totally hates them. When we got out of the car to go play mini golf (I wanted to go home and read some more of the Walking Dead comic that I got in Austin. I like to read it earlier rather than right before bed because I fear that zombies will come chasing after me in my subconscious, disrupting my otherwise peaceful REM cycle), my mother, who was driving all 7 girls in her SUV, got out and said "You are so lucky you aren't me." I asked her why and she said, "Just listen for a couple seconds." I tuned in to all 7 girls talking/screaming/singing at the same time. "That's what the whole car ride was like."


I've developed a new respect for all she has to endure just by being our mother. She never really had much of a problem with my sleepovers since I never really had very many friends. I think the first one I had was when I lived in California. It was my birthday, Molly Lewis, Mya Randle, and Erin Rogers were my guests. My dad came in from Denver. It was an awesome day. It was "mystery" themed, and we followed clues all over Los Alamitos to get to my party at Shaky's Pizza. If Mom hated putting that together, she sure didn't show it. Although, managing 3 girls she knows well is a lot easier than managing 6 girls.

Erin, Molly, Mya & I at Shaky's

I don't remember how many sleepovers I had. I remember I had at least one in high school, the infamous "Princess Party." We were supposed to stay up and watch Disney movies and dress as our favorite princesses, but, in typical 16-year-old-girl fashion, we ended up gossiping all night.

I've blocked out of my mind a lot the past sleepovers I attended. I mean, I can remember bits and pieces, it's just a matter of if I want to.

I remember the very first one I went to, I didn't really sleep over cause I was too young. The girl's name was Olivia and she was a couple years older than me. She was from New Zealand and was the individual responsible for destroying my childhood and telling me about sex. I'm pretty sure her parents invited me without notifying her first because when I came in she said, in that beautiful accent which I coveted, "Oh no, not her!" Such a warm, sweet little girl. In her defense, I was a really annoying child.

Other than that, I remember one sleepover in which the girls locked me in a closet until the hostess' mother came downstairs and made them let me out. After her mom went back up stairs, she told me that she hated me. I didn't really care. All you can eat Doritos! I wasn't complaining. And then one in 5th grade, I'm pretty sure this girl invited me because she felt bad for me or cause her mother made her. Or maybe she and her friends needed some amusement. I don't know. It was awkward because it was with all the popular girls and I was just so not anywhere near that.

Middle school proved to be a little more successful. Sarah Munfakh always held very interesting sleepovers with lots of crafts or fun games. We watched LOTR at one. I don't really remember much about 6th grade other than Brynnie farting in her sleep (but she did that at every sleepover, a most endearing quality that we very much missed when she switched schools in 7th grade). I remember the summer before 7th grade when I saw Avril Lavigne's video for Complicated and thought I'd discovered something truly unique that I could call mine. However, when we all went to Sarah's sleepover I quickly learned that all the other girls had made this discovery too, and they had also heard her song "sk8er boi" and had her CD.

The middle school sleepovers were never without drama. Someone always got into a fight with someone. The worst was when you went to a sleepover with someone already mad at you about something. Made for a very awkward game of sardines at Anna's house...

Also funny is that Anna's parents would constantly have to remind me to be quiet. It's funny because to this day, 8 years later, they still have to. You'd think I would've gotten the point by now, but apparently not.

Even if I was locked in a closet, or forced to listen to the popular girls talk about themselves, fighting with someone, or having Anna's parent's shush me, sleepovers were probably one of my very favorite things about adolescence. I mean yes, they included a great deal of irreversible emotional damage, but I still loved them. When we're all supposed to be going to sleep, because Anna's parents or whoever have shushed us for the thousandth time, someone would always start giggling for no apparent reason, and that would make everyone else laugh. A game of truth or dare almost always involved mooning and more often than not ended in tears. Someone always had big fluffy slippers shaped like some kind of animal (I had ducks that quacked when you pressed their wings). For me there was always this big question of whether or not I should bring Tigre (stuffed tiger I've slept with since infancy). I didn't want people to think it was stupid, but then again they might think it was cute. I did decide to bring him to college because yes, I am 20 years old, and no, I still cannot sleep without him. Well, I suppose I can, just not well.

My sister got a "zhu zhu pet" hamster thing that comes with this hamster ball, and also a lunch box. My step dad said, "You can put the zhu zhu in you lunch box and take it to school!" I said, "Please don't do that. People will laugh at you."

She just looked at me and said in all seriousness, "You think I care?"

I'm so proud that she has that attitude at such a young age. Being a teenager, while it's often the most treacherous time in a person's life, will be a breeze for Allison. She's so lucky.