Tag Archives: college

The Closure I Needed

So there’s this guy… the same one that’s been sprinkled throughout my previous blogs.

We were a solid and happy relationship for about a year and a half and mostly on and partly off for a year. So no matter how you math it, two and a half years is a long time.

With regular precision, I always got teary eyed and emotional when we had to say goodbye for a stretch of time. There are many occasions where I’ve cried at the airport. The thought of not seeing him for so long got to me no matter how hard I tried to keep it together. Distance broke us up more than once, and every time I dropped him off at the airport I knew it could be the last time we would ever see each other.

There was a lot of strain near the end and I saw the breakup coming from a mile away. We fought via text then ghosted each other at the same time, like cold turkey stopped talking to each other without discussing our problems.

I have never been so heart broken.

I cried myself to sleep on more occasions than I should have. I cried in the car. I cried in the shower. I counted up the days like a recovering alcoholic, just knowing that every day I went without talking to him would be one day closer to a happier me. I was completely emotionally exhausted.

I found myself curled up in a ball on my bed so often, just praying myself to sleep. God, please take this pain away. Please give me the strength to move on. I just want to be happy. I don’t want to love him anymore. I want to love myself again. All of this repeated over and over again just to feel better.

A couple of months later he drunk texted me saying that he missed me and blah blah. He caved first during our long silence and I felt good about it, but I wasn’t ready. Another month goes by and I was feeling a lot better about the situation – even starting to get over him. He mentioned wanting to come visit and I didn’t give him anything definitive to work with.

Flash forward a few months and I’m with my parents. They never really got briefed on the breakup so all they could do was ask questions about him and how he’s doing. It really got me missing him and he ended up booking a plane ticket to come see me.

We hung out and hooked up and fell back into our familiar patterns. I could tell that I’ve grown a lot as a person since our breakup. He gave me a certain nostalgic feel and it was comforting. I enjoyed 6 days of him in town, happy and normal, then took him to the airport.

I cried in the car on the way home… but it wasn’t because I was sad.

After he booked his plane ticket, I felt like I had made a mistake in encouraging him to visit. Like maybe I would suddenly fall back into his charm and have to start from ground zero. But seeing him again and feeling that change inside me was just the closure I needed. If I hadn’t seen him again I knew I would harbor that “what if I gave up the love of my life” feeling for years. But now I definitively knew that I was over him. Sometimes our decisions seem stupid and rash, but I know that this one happened for a reason. There were no more sad tears. I cried out of pure joy that my prayers for strength had been answered. It feels amazing to no longer feel bound by someone from your past. So for the very last time, I have cried over this guy. And maybe just maybe that will indeed be the last time I’ll ever see him.

I’m happily single and talking to a new guy now. He’s a jerk, but it’s something to work with.

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Welcome back, fam

I’m not sure what happened, but this blog is suddenly popular again. Welcome. I dropped this blog mainly because life, but I can get y’all all caught up with this long story short:

  • I finished up that stellar internship without getting fired.
  • I rounded out my final year in college with all A’s and regular margaritas.
  • I interviewed for a company that took me to lunch, where everyone got drunk.
  • I knew I found my future professional home and agreed to the job.
  • I packed all my shit into a car and moved to a city where I knew literally no one.
  • I spend most of my afternoons on this rigorous drinking schedule:
    • Monday: bar trivia and beer
    • Tuesday: bar trivia and beer
    • Wednesday: my night off, water
    • Thursday: bar poker and dancing in the club (all alcohols welcome)
    • Friday: float day, DIY drinking plans
    • Saturday: dance club
    • Sunday: GAME OF THRONES

If anyone’s interested in my last few months, I’ve been blogging about how to lose weight without giving up alcohol.

Spoiler Alert: you don’t.

 

Hot Tub Club

Happy finals week! I’m that bitch at the pool that’s already done while everyone else is indoors studying their lives away. 

My red solo cup was filled with popsicles and rum yesterday. 

Then I built my own pizza and sipped some beers at a sorority family dinner. 

Then I went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered a monster margarita. 

Then I proceeded to pass out at an early 10pm. The alcohol won.  

When my roommate tried to communicate with me around midnight, I told her she “wasn’t allowed in the hot tub club.”

 

I wish I knew what that was. 

“We Will Go Down With This Ship”

So I went on a fraternity beach weekend. The first night was an exciting shitshow. We frolicked around the beach and did some miscellaneous shenanigans. I crossed new experiences off my bucket list. 

We snuck into a neighbor’s hot tub. 

I skinny dipped in the ocean. 

I slept on an air mattress that really didn’t want to cooperate. 

The next day we participated in a datelock party. My date, a bandana, and a fifth of Bacardi was interrupted by cops. 

We dumped out so much alcohol it made me want to cry. Half the people peaced out that night. We chose to go down with the ship. 

We visited some friends in the local area the next morning and spent the day getting shwasted. I frolicked around the beach in my underwear because I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Go me. 

I loved it. 

My bad.

So formal was this weekend. I dressed in my neon, sequined, tribal patterned dress and proceeded to drink.

Finished a fifth, grabbed some tequila. Made it to formal.

Tore up the dance floor with my adorable date. Started to feel sick from all the movement. After a failed attempt to locate a bathroom, I ended up throwing up right as I walked in. Apparently some of that got on a sister. Go me.

They shipped me right back to the campus on the first bus home. I cried the whole way. Then jumped into the shower – dress and all.

Boyfriend joined me in the shower as I bawled my eyes out and questioned my life choices.

Recovered from the situation – just in time for him to also get sick. Man, we make a grand pair 😉

 

At least I got a good Instagram picture.

Life is a Party

Some highlights from this weekend:

Gained a boyfriend. Lost some bragging rights. 

Made Jell-O shots. Played shot roulette and got white girl wasted. 

Some friends came to town. I’m sure they thought I was mega popular. Everywhere we went people were yelling my name. 

Had a blast at the KS slip n’ slide. Ventured to DSPLXA for a foam party. Avoided ZL1. 

Hung out at the giant puddle that was the KA slip n’ slide. 

Chugged some platinums. Downed some jello. 

Drunk makeup. Went to the school’s concert. Fought to the front of the crowd and just kind of fell asleep. But that’s ok. I saw it all on Snapchat and from what I heard, it wasn’t even that great. 

Apparently I started running with my BFF and we just kind of fell onto some people. Good stuff. 

Sleep When You’re Dead

Enjoyed our typical Marg Monday with a green Margarona in honor of St. Patty’s Day. Enjoyed 4 normal margaritas after that. 

Hopped around in a friends dorm for a bit. Wore sunglasses indoors. Played an out-of-tune guitar while I sat on a friend. Convinced a very tiny person to take many shots. Snapchatted everyone I knew. 

Got home. My FWB peaced out of his fraternity sleepover to shower with me. We frolicked past a sister into my room, much to her amusement. Further shenanigans. Started to feel some pressure to do things I didn’t want to do, so naturally I transformed into the drunk crying girl. It was great. I insisted that he didn’t have to stay there and baby me. So he left to hang out with his brothers again. Poor choice, but I survived. 

Felt a little upset so I napped in my car for a bit. Got over myself then went back to a normal bed. 

Got a FWB call at 1:30: “Can you let me in?”

Shenaniganned 2.0 and passed out. Woke up at 4:30 and he wasn’t there again, but his phone and shoes were so I knew he didn’t go very far. He stumbled back in at 6am. Apparently he sleepwalked to the room across the hallway and passed out in one of my sister’s beds. 

It was a weird night. 

Shake Your Shamrocks

We had a social with KA last night!

Pregame highlights: Called everyone and told them to come play. The KA president is under the impression that my FWB is my boyfriend. Drank my rum because the jungle juice was black and I wasn’t interested in a vodka mix. I brought a green horn, but we mostly used it in a funnel-fashion. 

Our pregame was huge when we got a call that security was on the way. So we moved the party to the fraternity house. Then we moved it to our final destination. The lights were killer, the DJ was amazing, and the brothers were really fun! I met a lot of them.

I danced around with my FWB. Stole some shamrock-shaped glasses. Requested some songs. Danced with a ton of the brothers. Ventured home for shots. Was one of the last to leave.

Went to KS. Felt weird. Went to DS. Felt weird. Stood outside of Pike. Felt weird. Went home. Felt right.

Ate some microwaved food while sitting on the floor. 

Showered and got a FWB call: “Wanna head back out to a party?” Not particularly. TURN DOWN FOR BED. 

Got a FWB call at 4:30am. “Can you let me in?”

He stripped down to nothing and proceeded to throw up in the sink. Nevermind the fact that the toilet was 3 feet away. Too convenient.

Got to bed around 5:30. Had to wake up for a class project at 8:00. Bueno. 

Found out the next day that he partook in some drugs and took someones keys because he thought they were mine. 

 

“Come Play”

So my parter in crime texted me on a typical Thursday saying “Whatcha doin? COME PLAY!”

My immediate response was “Writing a paper. Nothing important. Let’s play.”

The older I get, the more I realize that you’re not going to get to redo college. This is supposedly the time of your life. Why would I spend it writing a paper when I can carpe noche? I know I’m here to get an education, but the memories I make will be worth so much more than getting an A, in the grand scheme of things. 

With that said, I’m glad I’m that person that can YOLO her life away and still pull off a 3.9. I’m truly blessed. 

So we made some margaritas, called up a DD, and strolled into the local mexican restaurant 5 minutes before they closed. Ordered 3 more margaritas. Champed them. Got back to campus. Made another margarita and wandered to KA. 

Watched them paint a huge poster, sipped my marg, and just hung out with a few of the brothers. 

Hitched a ride back to my FWBs place. Snuggled all night and talked it out the next morning. I need to figure that ish out.