Tag Archives: university

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. 

How to tie a toga for a party…

So many people don’t know how to make a toga. Shame on y’all.

1) Find 2 belts and a bed sheet of your choice. One should be toga-relevant. The other one doesn’t matter. 

2) Fold sheet hotdog style.

3) Place belt inside, in the fold. 

4) Belt it one-shoulder style.

5) Rearrange fabric so it’s evenly dispersed. 

6) Belt other belt around your waist to give your body some shape. 

7) RAGE.


So I started my Saturday with that process. Made an 8-shot drink. Downed it. Grabbed 2 cups of juice when I got to our social with KS. Poor choices. YOLO.  

Tried to target el presidente. Then went for my ex. Avoided the phone calls from my regular, hoping for variety. Apparently he threw up on himself and was broadcasting an SOS. My bad. 

Had what was surely an exciting, intelligent conversation with the brothers outside on sober duty. El oh el. 

Decided I was too drunk for life and went home to snuggle with my pillows.

Drunk-buzzed till 3 the next day. Enjoyed the moment at Olive Garden with my partner in crime, her other half, and my regular. We plotted an epic 3 en la manana capture the flag event to be executed in the upcoming days. KS is going to hate us. 


Updates to follow. 


I was hungover and laying in bed till 3. 

Put some warm clothes on, grabbed some beers, and went sledding down a massive hill on the lid of a storage bin. I couldn’t feel my feet, but I COULD feel my ass. It took some rough tumbles off the “sled.”

Roasted marshmallows in the fireplace. 

Took a 5-minute nap. 

Made a margarita. 

Now it’s time to carpe noche all over again. Over and out, homies. 



Happy Olympics!

As typical college students, we turned it into a reason to drink. My roommate, her other half, her brother, and I were #TeamEgypt. We were strongly advised to NOT pregame the party because it was actually supposed to be pretty legit, with rules and events and whatnot… so naturally we did Jagerbombs beforehand. 

Dodged traffic to get to the Olympics – Frogger style. There were 16 teams of 4 people and a bracket and rules on the wall. Throwing up inside was automatic disqualification, so we strategized against that. 

We won the first round of flip cup, dueling, and trivia. Then lost the next round because the rest of my team ended up leaving the Olympics for a birthday celebration. But that’s fine because I was already drunk and a little blacked out. 

I somehow ended up with an American flag temporary tattoo on my arm. I’m sure it was put there via saliva. 

I somehow ended up with a gash on my foot that was pouring blood. 

I somehow ended up with a paper towel duct taped over it – solid first aid skillz. 

I somehow ended up drunk instagramming with zero typos. 

I somehow ended up back on campus. 

I somehow ended up in the KA house. 

I somehow ended up actually cleaning my room a little last night. LOL. 

I somehow didn’t find any creepers – or they somehow didn’t find me. 

I somehow didn’t manage to lose my outfit, PINK bottle, or Egyptian crown. 

However, I did somehow manage to lose my rum. Bummer dude. 


Sounds like a successful night to me. 

Winners are losers

Happy sportz day y’all.

Last night was weird. I attracted an odd crowd. I think it’s because I was wearing a warm-ish sweater and a skirt.

We started off with another 21st birthday. Vodka bucket. Homegirl was wrecked, but that’s how it’s spose to beeeee living young and wild and free. One male, who can accurately be described as a “bro” commenced hitting on me. Then the party migrated to the KA house.

Giant pong. Lost. Had to do a naked lap. Jokes, someone else did it for me. Beers from Pledge Ryan. Broke a table. More attention from the bro. All in a day’s work. Wandered into bros room with bro and a mutual friend to pee, then she left. Awkward. Bro was laying on the bed giving me those eyes, and he goes “you know you want to.” Except I didn’t. I can’t quite remember what I said, but it was something along the lines of “TURN DOWN FOR WHAT.” Then I walked out. Snaps for me because he’s a controversial character on campus. Bullet: dodged.

Left the KA house and ran into my regular’s roommate. We walked back to my friend’s apartment, minus the friend, and had an hour-long drunk heart-to-heart. It was actually really nice. We talked about his cheating girlfriend, his total woof-hookup, and my inability to emotionally care about people. We parted ways.

AND THEN… I found a total winner. Get pumped about this story. It’s golden.

We were walking in opposite directions. I was freezing my tits off. He had a case of beer. He offered me a beer. His ploy worked because we stopped to chat. He hated how I kept saying bueno. Shoulda been a warning sign. He mentioned how one of the sister’s in my sorority family was at his place and “wanna chill?” CARPE NOCHE. 

So naturally I said yes. When we got there, I noticed that the mentioned sister was indeed there, but she was just laying in bed with her boyfriend and watching TV. Not the scene he painted for me 10 minutes ago.

So I sipped a beer, he made me food… and dropped it on the floor. He gave me sweatpants; I literally threw them on over my clothes. He offered his bed and he turned out the lights. It was purely my intention to just pass out because I was drunk and the walk home seemed like too much of a journey. So I flipped over to face the wall. Then he kept trying to flip me over towards him and he kept saying “just kiss me” as he went for the chin tilts. Which I was not interested in. I was interested in the beer, the sweatpants, the spicy Doritos, and not having to walk home in the cold. So I just kissed him. For half a second. And flipped back over to sleep.

He persisted. Ever forward.

So then I tried to leave, and he kept trying to kinda fence me in with his body to keep me from getting up. I tried, literally, every single trick in the book to convince him to let me leave. He told me I wouldn’t still be there if I didn’t want to be there; he was clearly oblivious to my attempts to leave. I fabricated life problems and emotional issues. He started life-coaching me. His nickname is affectionately “coach.” He promised I could just go to sleep. So I tried. And he kept trying to flip me over again. NO.

He wasn’t picking up what I was throwing down.

So from there I took off the comfy sweatpants to leave. He insisted that he walk me home once he saw that I was definitely not going to pass out at his place… like I was going to let that happen. He followed me out of his room and into the hallway. I insisted that I could get home by myself, but he wasn’t going for it. I had to start making some desperate moves.

Let me share some dialogue.

Him:  Stay here. Go back to bed. Me: I’m so ridiculously drunk. I can’t even stand straight. The walls are shifting. If I do stay, I’m probably going to throw up in your bed. Him: I don’t care. 

Hear that, ladies and gents? He doesn’t care if I throw up in his bed. So aggressively persistent. So I ramped up my game.

I purposely stumbled and wobbled like I was shwasted. I held onto the wall like it was holding me up. I started to pick a fight so I could have a good reason to walk away quickly. None of it worked. SOS. I made it to the elevator, but he wouldn’t let the door shut.

So I went for the ultimate move: tears. I literally made myself cry to make him think he really really upset me. I pushed him out of the elevator with one hand while pushing the door close button.


The tears were gone, instantly. The walk home felt like a victory because I escaped the dragon’s lair. My life amuses me.