Friday, September 12, 2008

Snuggling and Other Bullshit (2007)



So skip to later in the night. I’m wearing a white tank top with a red bra underneath in an attempt to be simple, yet sexy. I probably just look stupid. We’re all playing flip cup in the garage and my team has just won our fourth game. Keslee informs me that Tim, her new boy toy, is coming over with Spencer in tow. Of course I get nervous, take some shots and constantly look at the door. After what seems like twenty four hours but is more like twenty four minutes he shows up. Sans girlfriend. Fuck. Bad news. Bad news.
I do my best all night to stay strong. When he comes in I give him a birthday hug and say hello. When he requests a song, I actually go upstairs and download it, 1) because I’m just that nice 2) because I like him 3) because I want to hear it too and 5) because I am his love slave.
As the night goes on, he gets more and more flirty and I’m pretty good at resisting. I resist when he puts his tongue in my ear. I resist his constant beckoning of me to sit on his lap. I resist his compliments. I also tell him never to be a dick or lie to me again. Dead serious. He actually apologizes- which is a very big step, considering he’s a genuine dick. After more temptation and being started at like the I’m the fox and he’s the hound, it gets down to just me, him, and Bailey on the couch. I become silent when the conversation turns to OId Yeller. He says that she’s the first girl he’s ever fallen for and states the qualities that he loves. Yes, right in front of me. It’s just a little too much. I’m torn because I know I should go to bed, that he shouldn’t sleep over (not to mention I have a midterm in the morning and its 4:30). But, he’s smoking and I won’t say no. Not tonight anyway. I want him in my bed. So I linger until he asks if he can sleep over and I say yes. And he does. It is his birthday, right?
He actually doesn’t try anything funny but we cuddle and what not. The morning is a different story but I tell him it’s not his birthday anymore. He tells me to relax and I tell him to relax. Literally. Considering he’s poking me.
When he leaves I’m left wondering what the hell I’m doing. What gratification am I getting form this? None. He has a girlfriend (or whatever) that he loves (enough) and he comes to me when she’s not around (she goes to a different school). It’s simple and I really thought I’d never get into this type of position. Not after all I’ve been through. I have to stop and so does he. This is student. “Snuggling” (his word, not mine) is not enough.
I do a good job of not thinking about Spencer for the rest of the week. I occasionally facebook stalk him, but what do you expect? I never see him. On Wednesday, I even flirt with one of my top three at school and talk to Zach’s roommate about him. I’m doing alright.
Then, Monday night, I get a call from you guessed it. Ole Spence. This is the first time he’s ever called me, which is another reason the whole situation is ridiculous. He says a series of inappropriate things to me in true Spencer fashion and wants to hang out. He is drunk. Spencer is not drunk too often. I am not drunk. I tell him I’m going to bed. I hang up. Fifteen minutes later I get a couple texts that go like this.
Him: What does being sober have to do with anything?
Me: What exactly do you want, Spencer?
Him: I want to hang out. Is that so much to ask? To enjoy your company. So what’s the problem?
This is bullshit.
Me: The problem is you have a girlfriend
No response.
I’m convinced he’s not going to answer but I get another call about ten minutes later. He says he wants to “snuggle” (again, eiw) and I tell him I’m not doing that anymore. Apparently his girlfriend “won’t care” and we won’t hook up. Surprisingly it doesn’t take much to tell him no. He says some more things that aren’t worth remembering, basically trying to fool me into thinking I’m making the wrong decision. Like I’m an idiot. I tell him goodnight. This thing with Spencer keeps getting weirder and weirder and I’m getting progressively sicker of it. He leaves me confused and unsatisfied. Again. Gee, I really know how to pick ‘em.
Maybe, Noe

Oh...Goody (2007)

Ginna, Nicole, Miranda and I are sitting in my room.

“Are you drinking tonight?” Ginna eyes me, almost scarily. We are having people over.

“Yes, Ginna,” I feel like I’m talking to my mom.

“Good,” she says approvingly. “Because it’s Spencer’s birthday tonight.

I can only laugh. “I don’t want to see Spencer. Obviously he’s going be with his girlfriend on his birthday. I don’t want to deal with that. No thanks.” Spencer is my current obsession and sometimes hookup. Spencer also has a sometimes girlfriend.

Nicole pipes in this time, “You're going have to deal with it at some point. Better sooner than later, right?”

“Why not never?” I moan.

The last time I saw Spencer, I got drunk way too early in the night, he kissed me, lied about breaking up with Old Yeller (as I like to call his occasional other half), Hulked himself from a doting dude to a downright dick and then he left without a goodbye to see his “ex”. Needless to say, I ended the night in tears.

“He’s an ass,” I say and sit down at my computer to check Facebook.

“Noe,” Miranda says. I brace myself for something I don't want to hear. “He is an ass. So don’t let him upset you. Not worth it.” And with that Miranda changes the subject. Closes the book. Normally I would be annoyed at her so shortly summarizing my life, but instead I am relieved. I don't feel like talking about it.

I stay silent and contemplate the potential ways the night can go. There is a very big chance that Spencer will bring his girlfriend to my house. I will have to deal with it and I will not cry.

Maybe, Noe

Awwww (2007)



I come home from class, my hangover from the night before still swimming through my body. Still, I could feel worse.
“Is anybody home!?” I scream, probably too loudly.
Miranda calls back, “Me!”
I slowly trudge upstairs and open the door to our room. Miranda and Sean are spooning her bed. She’s in frilly lingerie and he’s without a shirt. They look like an ad for “We’re Beautiful. Worship us.”
“Where have you been?” She yawns.
“Class. It sucked.” I slump into my computer chair.
“Yeah…” I’ve already lost her attention. She turns towards Sean and says, “Baby, what do you want to do for dinner?”
“Well we could go to a nice place somewhere,” He gets up and stretches. He looks like freaking Hercules.
“Oh! Fun!” Miranda squeals like an excited five year old and Sean smiles down at her like she’s the cutest little thing in the world. Maybe she is.
He gets up and throws his shirt on. “Okay, well then I’m gonna go home and shower and stuff and then I’ll give you a call, Hon.” He leans down and gives her a sweet little kiss on the forehead.
“Yay! Ok, that sounds awesome!” She is practically bouncing in her bed.
“Awesome,” he repeats. He gets up and crosses the room, patting me on the head like an old, reliant dog.
“Woof!” I say, laughing at my own joke. They don’t get it so they don’t say anything. This happens a lot.
Sean closes the door to our room and I look over at Miranda who is beaming under her covers. That is really how all of their conversations go. Lots of “yays” and “baby’s” and sweet little kisses. They are genuinely that excited to be around each other. Everything really is “awesome” all the time.
“You guys are so cute,” I say with sincerity and absolutely no sarcasm (might be a first).
When we hear the front door slam, Miranda pops up all of a sudden. “He said I LOVE YOU!” She whispers with the largest grim I’ve ever seen on her face. She looks like a child who’s gotten everything she wanted for Christmas.
“REALLY!?!?” I jump out of my bed and onto hers. She nods shyly. “Tell me all about it! What did he say? How did it happen?”
“Well,” She says, sitting up in her bed. “Can you throw me that tank top?” She jerks her head in the direction of a pink C + C tank top on my desk chair. It’s hers. I toss it to her and she slips it on, in addition to Victoria’s Secret Pink shorts. “Hurry! Tell me!” I’m impatient.
“Ok, well he was acting so weird when he came in at first. So awkward and nervous. I kept asking him what was wrong and he kept saying nothing. It was sooo weird. We watched TV in silence for about twenty minute. It was sooooo awkward. I was like, do I even know this person? What is going on? He wouldn’t even look me in the eye or touch me. Then I started crying.
“Why!?” I jerk her arm.
She laughs, “I honestly thought he was gonna break up with me. Or tell me that he cheated on me or something. He noticed I was crying and he kind of panicked. He was like what’s wrong, what’s wrong? And I was like bawling, asking him if he wanted to break up. He started hugging me and kissing me and then he told me that he loved me! I swear I froze. My tears, like, turned off and I practically screamed WHAT!??! He said it again. And I was like, you love me? And he was like Duh, I love you. And I was like Why were you acting so weird? And he was like, because I was all nervous.”
I think a tear rolls down my face. I mean, Miranda doesn’t exactly have a way with words but I still think that it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Or at least the cutest thing I’ve heard in a while. “You said it back right?”
“Of course! I knew I would love him from like Week 2. He’s perfect! Ahh! I love him!”
“You guys really are perfect together.” I say, still smiling. I mean it in every way possible.
“Eek!” (Yes she actually says eek). “I’m so excited for dinner. I have to go get ready now, OK!??!” She is borderline hysterical, but I can’t blame her.
“Yep,” I nod, laughing at her as she scurries around the room. She literally skips out the room to the shower. Humming.
Miranda and Sean might be slightly annoying and self involved but they really would do anything for each other. I also knew by like “Week 2” that they would fall in love. I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll get married. They’re just “that couple.” It’s all very, very cute.
Maybe, Noe

Shits and Giggles (2007)


So get this. Jake has ANOTHER new girlfriend. SO that means in the last year and half he's had three girlfriends and one semi-girlfriend/mistress/home wrecker (we don't need to talk about her). That's a joke. It's not normal and not even healthy. It begins at 6:30 in the morning. My phone rings and I pick up the phone when I see his name. He puts some random kid on the phone I went to high school with and I say hello and kind of rudely dismiss him, asking to talk to Jake.

"Why are you calling me at 6:30 in the morning?" I ask, half sleeping.

"WE'RE TAILGAITING." It's three hours later where he is. He's wasted.

"Cool. What do you want?" I don't mask my annoyance.

The rest of conversation is unremarkable but it ends with me saying that I can't talk and that I'm sleeping and him quickly getting off the phone. Later a text convo goes like this:

Me: Why are you such a drunk slut? (This is my way of asking why he called me. We're "friends" now, so I can do this)

Him: I'm not a drunk slut anymore because I have a girlfriend and I wish I could be but I can't because she's great. (I'm baffled because 1) this doesn't make sense 2) that’s kind of a diss to his girlfriend and 3) what the fuck)

Me: Well congratulations Jakey (Umm…)
Him: It was so stressful because I had to meet her parents today. But I like you more than Lauren (Lauren is the home wrecker) (No, really. What the fuck? What does any of this have to do with Lauren and what the hell is he talking about. I choose to ignore the last statement)
Me: I’m sure you were great. I’m happy that you’re happy. (Kill him with kindness. Kill him with kindness.) 
Him: I’m so happy and I’m glad you are too. Let’s be lifelong friends because you’re the girl I’ve been closest to and want to talk always.
Me: Agreed. (Again…umm…)
Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. He is so full of shit. At least he’s good for a laugh these days. I’m just happy that I’m finally over it. Funny because just yesterday I was talking to Miranda and I said “I’m just counting down the days until Jake tells me he has a new girlfriend. I know its coming.” It did. So predictable. So transparent. But that’s all I’ll say about that. It’s all shits and giggles.
Maybe, Noe

Happy New (School) Year! (2007)



Week two of school. Week three of being back in Arizona. My alcohol intake is slowly declining and I can’t say that I mind it. At the rate I’ve been going, my body will surely shut down within a couple days. Luckily for me though (and my housemates) the routines of drinking only three (maybe four) nights a week is coming back into style.
Speaking of drinking on inappropriate nights, on Monday we had our first of many cocktail parties. We slithered into our hottest dresses and highest heels for a more grown up look, but took shots, slapped the (wine) bag, chugged straight from the four dollar Andre bottle, and blasted the most unrefined music in true college form. It was basically a dressed up rager. A glammed up raunchfest. Needless to say, it was a great night. Proof that people don’t change overnight, I blacked out and passed out well before the party was over. I woke up the next morning to find a boy in my roommates bed (not her boyfriend) to later find out that it was the current love of my life, Zach. I also discovered that almost all of my housemates blacked out too and had their own drunken adventures. Five out of six, baby! Very well done, girls. Our kitchen floor has changed from its normal whitish color to a browny-black and it is impossible to walk around without your feet getting stuck, forcing your body to come to a surprising shock and resulting in your body tumbling to the ground. My shoes were also outside in the morning. So was the Brita. About a dozen people threw up- at the party. Not that I really remember, but if those things don’t mean a successful party. In the morning we put music on at a noise level that should have hurt our hung-over heads and had an all girls dance party (I believe Zach was still upstairs).
Now I’m sitting in my room on what seems like a Sunday but is actually a Tuesday because I lazily opted to skip out on my only class of the day. I’m posting pictures of the night before on Facebook when Miranda pushes through the door. She storms by my bed without so much as a glance at me and throws herself down onto her own bed. Not only did she bring a foul attitude but also a very pungent aroma of Ralph Lauren Romance (her signature scent) in an attempt to cover up the smell of beer and boy. It seems like she also brought in a freaking sunset, she’s wearing so much pink. Freaking Barbie.
I sneak a look at her out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to completely look because I know she’s staring at me with a bratty pout on her face. She’s splayed across her (you guessed it) pink bed, her dress dangerously close to showing off her (as guys put it) “fine” ass. Her bring blonde hair is covering half her face. The only thing not perfect about her in her slightly, almost undetected, smeared mascara on her left eye. Even with a massive hangover the girl still seems to beat me, actually most people, by miles. She sighs.
“What’s wrong, Rand?” I finally ask because I know she won’t stop moaning and groaning until I do.
She says something undecipherable.
“What, Miranda?” My hangover is making me snippy.
“I feel like shit,” She says more clearly.
“Well that’s a given,” I snort. “ I knew we had lost you when you did that second keg stand.” I pause. “Where did that keg even come from?” I hazily recall people gathering around a keg that I know we did not purchase. At the same time Miranda and I gag and shudder at the thought of booze.
“First off, I have absolutely no idea where that keg came from. Which is actually really disgusting and scares me a little bit. I’m hoping that Sean and those guys bought it. Secondly, don’t ever, ever let me drink again!” Miranda buries her head dramatically into her pillow.
“Well,” I say. “Tomorrow is Wednesday. And you’re telling me that you’re not gonna go out or drink? Bull shit, ma dear. Bull. Shit.” Miranda prides herself on being a constant presence in the social scene. She struggles to sit up in her bed and visibly comes to term with the thought.
She smiles, “Oh well, it’s worth it.”
“Agreed.” I say.
Miranda, in complete oblivion to what I’m doing (which is reading In-Style magazine in bed) then gets up, closes the door, turns off the lights, closes the blinds, and turns the fan that was blowing towards me in her direction. All in lightening speed. She strips off clothes down to her lacey white bra and thong, and jumps in bed, obviously pleased with the new adjustments in the room. Before I can open my mouth to object, she grabs one of those things that divas wear over their eyes when they sleep that, I kid you not, says “Sleeping Beauty” and puts her iPod headphones in her ears. I can hear the Fray playing rather loudly considering she’s so obviously trying to go to sleep. Oh well. I won’t even try. I turn on the lamp next to my bed and go back to reading my magazine.
“Noe?” Miranda says in a sickly sweet voice which means I know she wants something.
“Yes, Sleeping Beauty?” I say, making fun of her.
She ignores this. “Sean is gonna come over and take a nap with me. Is that ok?”
“Yep,” I say. “I’m gonna get out for a while so feel free to get your freak on!”
She yawns and doesn’t laugh at my joke. “Thanks, girl.”
I shimmy on my Joe’s jeans and tell her to have a good nap. I leave the house with the essentials. 1) Oversized sunglasses so I don’t have to make eye contact with people I don’t want to talk to. 2) Oversized brown leather purse with buckles just because it’s so effing cute. 3) Chap stick because my lips are like sandpaper and 4) Cell phone so I can call my mom or a friend from home so I don’t have to stop and talk to anyone, risking unwanted or awkward conversation I see in passing.
I start off in the direction of campus but I really don’t have anything to do. I see Sean across the street and wave at him. He flashes his perfect smile and shouts “What’s up, Noe!” Ok, well Sean and Miranda started going out at the end of last year. Yes he is the same Sean that Miranda had such deep conversation with in a previous entry. They did the whole long distance thing over the summer and are now back at each other’s flawless sides. They are grossly and adorably obsessed with each other and grossly and adorably perfect for each other. They’re of the same breed- blonde, tall, fucking gorgeous- and there are also both obsessed with themselves which is why they are obsessed with each other. It all works out.
I wave a friendly hello back to Sean and decide that I’m going to do a little drop by at my friend Lindsey’s house so we can discuss every single detail, relive and rehash the (sadly, and unhealthily) now distant memories of last night.
Maybe, Noe

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Still Here...(Summer 2007)



So I just got home. My night was far too exciting. First, in a truly sophisticated gesture, I drove (by myself I might add) to the classy eating establishment Jack in the Box, minute later heading over to the equally refined Burger King to get an ICEE. I then proceeded to sit in the Burger King parking lot with all the windows down, smoking a cigarette while I listened to the radio and stared at the grocery store across the street. If that isn’t a crazy summer night, I don’t know what is! As the summer is dwindling down, so are the social arrangements apparently and pretty much all of my friends are at home watching TV, going to a movie I have no interest in seeing or out of town. So that leave me, now at home, with nothing to do expect write on my laptop about my fabulous life and watch Greek on ABC family in an hour. Now it may seem to you that I’m either deeply disturbed or very bitter, but I’m actually just being sarcastic, sometime making myself laugh (pathetically I might add) at my own bizarreness and utter ridiculousness.

Maybe, Noe

Celebate Summer (2007)


So…It’s summer, actually it’s the end of summer. Everyone’s headed back to school in a week or two, but I have an entire month left before I make my voyage back to Hillsman University. Damn trimesters. Luckily, I have a couple of friends who are town. This means that I won’t be life threateningly bored-just annoying bored- for my remaining month. I’m sure it will be filled with excited adventures such as, not leaving the house for days, reading book after book (which I might actually enjoy, wink), watching too much TV and Grey’s Anatomy on DVD, calling my friends who will be having much more fun than me while they’re back at school, Facebooking to no end, online window shopping and knowing me, the random crying spell that I have probably too often. Oh, joy!

It’s strange that summer is basically over. First, because it seem like I just got back to Chicago ( a month later than everyone else) and secondly because this summer wasn’t all that much fun. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my friends and I missed them terribly while I was at school. But home is different now. After nine months of big, alcohol infested college parties, small alcoholic gatherings just don’t cut it. The crazy, random outings my friends and I had in high school, when it was just so good to be bad, have been replaced with predictable nights with the same group of girls and guys, leaving me pining for school again. What does a girl have to do to get a little black out? A night that induces the triumvirate of wanting to vomit, cry and laugh when you wake up and remember what you did the night before? Geez…

However, this summer was not a complete bust. Despite the lackluster social life, and a job (that I probably shouldn’t even call a job considering I only did it a couple times a week and made virtually no money), I did learn a couple things and come close, or at least close enough to being over Jake. Yes, Jake. My former “love,” obsession, and source of my drama the entire first year of college. At this point, I can now write about him without feeling like I might throw up or have a nervous breakdown or feel like my heart is literally breaking. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still think about him and talk about him probably, no, decidedly too much, but I’ve realized that I’m better off without him and we just do not work.
Jake has moved on. He has a new girlfriend with the name of a bird and the appeal of a pigeon and I’ve come to the conclusion that while I may have my crazy moment (him being the reason), Jake is positively insane (with or without me). I hope that one day we’ll be friends or at least acquaintances. And no, I don’t mean “friends” like we are now. “Friends” with the relationship consisting of him or his best friend calling me and saying stupid shit, or seeing him at a bar where he precedes to slightly harass and annoy me, the next day sending me inappropriate texts. All of these things in an attempt to make me pine for him, never to get over him. I want to be at a point where we care about each other but don’t care about each other, with no bitter emotions attached. I haven’t heard from him in about a week or two though, so I assume that he and Ms. Bird are very happy together, at least for the time being.

Oh dear, nothing surprises me anymore. To be honest, although I’m not completely over him, I am very excited for a new boy, or ahem, new boys (plural) at school. I have never been more desperate for male attention, considering that I’ve known the boys I hang out at home for about eight years. They are more like brothers, or maybe cousins, probably even second cousins, whom I do not find remotely attractive at all.
I’m trying to imagine what my sophomore year at Hillsman will be like. I’m moving into a house with Miranda, Kesley, Bailey, Nicole and Ginna. This, I am very excited for. But, although I know it’s going to be a lot of fun, I recognize that six females living in one, albeit small, house could equal a lot of drama. Especially with Miranda and her “besties” and their constant mood swings.
Another thing on my mind is the fact that we will no longer be freshman. We won’t be the hot, new girls anymore. We’ll be the aged, probably sometimes bitter girls, giving bitchy looks from the corner of the party to the fresh meat. I’m much too young to be thinking like this! I’m only 19, damn it! But, there must be perks to being older. My own space? Own parties? A set group of friends and an overall better sense of what’s going on? Yes, those are all good things.

Again, my mind moves to boys. I try not to get too carried away though. I try not to have too high expectations of anything or anyone. I don’t know if this is a good thing or not, because on one hand it can prevent me from getting hurt (although it usually doesn’t) and on the other, it could prevent from some opportunities…hmm. All of this, of course, is because of Jake.
“The Jake Series,” that’s what I call it now, really seemed to do me in. It was no after school special, where everything works out in the end. It was a whole series. There wasn’t just one episode where the lead character, me, had a little tiff with her boyfriend slipped up. Week after week, ups and downs (lots of downs). My own little The O.C. with me (Marissa) and Jake (Ryan) breaking up and then getting back together, but only to last for a couple episodes before another conflict, usually a person, would tear us apart. Well Marissa and Ryan didn’t end up together. She died. Jake and I didn’t end up together either, and thank God, I didn’t die (although it hurt so badly sometimes that I thought I would), but our love did.

See what I mean? Stop! Stop it, Shar! No more talking about Jake. I’m sure he has his mouth full of Chicken’s breast right now. Ha, get it? Perhaps as a result of my slight obsessions, my love life was disappointingly dry this summer. While I came home to Chicago assuming that I would have a sultry, almost forbidden summer romance (definitely O.C. style) with the boy who I’m not talking about anymore, I found out quite quickly that my Fabio romance novel fantasy would not be happening. So basically, I made out with the grand total of one boy this summer. I know, I’m a freaking stud. Well one, and perhaps another boy, but I’m not sure. He was a boy that a friend had a crush on and I got some shit for it, but I honestly don’t remember and don’t believe it happened. I don’t think anyone knows for sure. And because of this I will not count him. My motto is if you don’t remember it, it didn’t happen. Sounds like an in denial alcoholic in the making to me. Woo-hoo!

Maybe, Noe

Something For Myself (2006)




This is a chronicle of what most people would say is a normal young adult existence, but to me is a soap opera just drenched in drama, corniness and utter confusion. I've just started my freshman year in college. I go to a relatively small school with about 5000 undergrads in...we'll say Arizona. It's a breeding ground for young, beautiful, well to do kids who will either do nothing with their lives or go on to rule the world. Nothing in between. My problem is this. I don't know which category I belong in. I consider myself a pretty smart kid but I'll admit that I can be easily distracted. But anyway, I came to...lets call it...Hillmans University all the way from Chicago, Illinois. Based on some of the stories of some of my high school friends, I am a lucky one in that I had a pretty easy transition to college. I love my school and I think it might just love me back. No complaints.

Love? Ha. While I may have the ideal relationship with my school, I have far from the ideal with my boyfriend. Correction: Kinda, sorta boyfriend. Correction: I don't know what the hell he is. His name is Jake and he goes to school in Maine, which might as well be a million miles away. We stupidly started dating this past summer, right before we went off to school. When we first started going out, I didn't even know if I really liked him, but to make a long, unnecessary story short, I basically fell for him. He was my first real boyfriend and it hit me. Hard. We continued to date for three months at the beginning of the school year. Now, its winter break, I have no idea what we are and no idea what to do. I am very annoyed, very confused and still very much in love with him.

To me, Jake is the epitome of cool. He's sort of quiet and pensive. Because of this he often seems like an asshole. But under all of that bullshit and hair is a boy (not yet a man) with good intentions and a lot going on in his perfectly shaped noggin. I can't even talk about him...write about him....without getting all excited and giddy. But yeah, now Jake doesn’t know what he wants and I don't know what I want, even thought I know I want him. I also know that we are both positively insane. So for now I guess I'm waiting. Like that Michael Tolcher song. "Waiting for something to change into something worth waiting for." Just like that. Maybe this Michael character and I should meet and have a little chat?

Let’s change the subject now. Too confusing. My roommate just walked in. Let’s talk about her. She's this leggy blonde who you can just tell as the queen of her high school. When I first met her I thought, Yes, I can do this. I lucked out. This girl is cute. She's normal. She's cool. We can be friends. Similar thoughts continued for about twenty four hours until I realized that she is sort of crazy. I mean, she is still cute. She is still relatively normal. She is still cool, but she's just a little too...too...something. She goes out and parties and you'd think we'd be a perfect pair but she's also very dramatic and the last thing I need is more drama in my life. For this reason, we hang out with the same people but we are not BFFs. It works out because we can talk and laugh and I genuinely care about her and trust her but I outlets and can get away when I need a little less crazy in my life. Miranda (that’s her name) seems to be PMSing all the time. She must have at least twenty five different personalities. Luckily for me though, when she's feeling bitchy or hysterical she usually takes this out on someone else, not me.

So Miranda walks into the room. Or rather, sashays into the room, looking like a supermodel, with a seriously devious look on her face. I swivel around in my computer chair and smile as she throws her Marc by Marc Jacobs shoulder bag onto her bed. She turns around and looks at me devilish smile growing on her heart shaped face.

"So," she says pausing dramatically, "I just saw Sean." Sean is the guy she likes. Today. I nod. "And he was like. 'Hey Miranda' and I was like 'What’s up Sean' and he was just, like, smiling at me like...a cute little freak and I was like 'What Sean' and he was like 'What Miranda' and we kind of just looked at each other for a second, just smiling away and I was like 'I better see you out tonight' and he was like 'I better see you out tonight' and I was like 'You might' and then I just walked away!"

She looks at me, smiling so big, waiting for me to say something. I don't say anything because everything she said was just one big run on sentence and it's taking me a second to comprehend. Slightly annoyed she says, "Shar, do you know what this means?"

I don't. "Um, that you'll probably see each other out tonight?"

She's huffs, "Oh my God, Noe. No. It means that he likes me. I mean we hooked up on Saturday and I haven't really had a chance to talk to him but the fact that he wasn't all awkward mean that he likes me. Or at least wants to hook up with me again. Which is more than fiiiine with me. Mmmm! So excited!"

With this she squeals and scurries over to her bed to retrieve her Blackberry. She starts typing away, undoubtedly to her two "besties," (her words, not mine) Nicole and Ginna.

"Well that's awesome, Miranda," I say genuinely. "I'm so jealous of you. I want a boy, too!"

"Okay," she says snarkily. "You could have one if you wanted one." She pauses. "You stupid bitch! You do have a boy! Shut up!"

I laugh. She cracks me up. "Okay, if you are referring to Jake, he is not my boy. I don't know what the hell he is and you are the lucky one. You have something new. And here I am, the idiot who tried to do the whole long distance relationship. Freshman year. Everyone's moving on but me."

"You and Jake..." she pauses, searching for something to say. I wait for her to call me a stupid bitch again or say something slightly rude but completely true, but instead she says, "You and Jake will work everything out. Don't worry. Either you'll be together or you won't be but whatever happens, you'll be okay." God, I love this girl.

"God I love you."

She smiles, obviously please with herself. She suddenly drops her Seven jeans and disposes her canary yellow tank top. I gape at her perfectly toned, tall, slim body and shake my head. I take it back, I hate this girl.

"Well, I'm going to work out with Nicole and Ginna, wanna come?" I don’t know why she asks me this. She asks me every day and every day I say no. I am not the working out type.



“Nope.”
She puts on her work out clothes- a tiny little work out shirt and spandex- and pulls her long curly blonde hair into a pony tail on the top of her head. Nice little distraction for the boys at the gym. “Okay, whatever,” she says, “well, we’re going to dinner right after so want me to call you?”
“Yeah I can do dinner, but I cannot do gym.” She nods, grabs her keys and Blackberry, struts out the door, laughing to herself. She truly does not understand why someone wouldn’t spend half the day working on their appearance. I guess I can understand why someone would, but I am far too lazy for that.
Skip to later tonight. It’s Wednesday night and we are going out and going crazy. I just straightened, or burned, my shoulder length dark brown hair and now I’m deciding what to wear. My trust Hudson jeans for sure but what to wear on top? I mentally go through my closet and veto every single thing. I ask Miranda if I can borrow something of hers. She nods enthusiastically. I’m making my way over to Miranda’s closet singing along to the song that’s blaring out of my speakers- “Showstopper” by Danity Kane when I hear my phone beeping annoyingly. Immediately my heart starts to race and I get nervous. I dash to my desk , telling myself in my head, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, even though I want it to be Jake more than anything. My heart actually stops when I see that is in fact him and I try to compose myself as I answer the phone.
“Hey you,” I say, maybe too excitedly.
“What’s up,” Jake says in his cool, sexy voice.
“NothingI’mjustgettingreadywhatareyouupto?” My voice goes up about a hundred octaves and my words all blend together like a Queen song.
“Ah. Nothing. Sitting. About to take a shower.”
“Oh, cool. Are you going out tonight?” I hear panic in my own voice and wish it away.
“Yep.” All nonchalance. Pisses me off.
“Coooool,” my mood audibly lowers. I hate to think about him going out because now he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. I am too but I don’t really want to do anything else but him. Ha. How ironic. “So whets up, Jake?”
“Nothing really. Just calling to say hi. It’s weird not talking to you, like, every second of the day.”
“Yeah I know,” I think I hear a little sadness in his voice and although it’s wrong, it makes me happy. “It is weird. But hey, it’s like an extra ten hours a day to do other stuff, right?”
“Yeah what other stuff Shar?” He teases.
“Oh just stuff.”
“Oh, right. You think that because I don’t talk to you every day anymore I still don’t know your routine of sleeping, writing, eating and going out?” He always makes fun of my big appetite. Thank god, I have what must be a relatively fast metabolism or this could really get me. “I know you, Shar Peterson.” I can hear the smile in his voice and for some reason I desperately want it to go away.
“Not anymore.”
Silence on the other end. Mission accomplished. I immediately regret saying it. “Oh,” he finally says.
“Um…well…yeah…” I try to recover from this one but I can’t think of anything to say.
“So, I gotta go. Shower. Talk to you…” Later? Tonight? Please? I think frantically. “Soon,” he says instead, in a way that lets me know it may not be soon.
“Oh ok, bye..I’ll call…” Click. He’s gone. I love you.
Damn it! I scream in my head. Only, it’s aloud because Miranda jerks around and looks surprised. I throw my phone down and catch my roommates stare. “I’m an idiot. I’m a fucking idiot,” I say, defeated, and throw myself (landing and nearly breaking my phone) on my bed.
“What’s wrong?” She slowly comes up to my bed and puts a hand on my back.
I sigh, trying hard, really hard, not to cry. “I just don’t know what to say to him anymore. I’m, like, sooo incredibly awkward. It’s really hard. And….awkward. Did you hear?”
“Only your side but I can guess how it went.” Miranda says gently, honestly. She clears her throat a little and I await her inevitable advice. “Shar, I know you love him. I do. But I think…to be honest…you have to let go. A little. I’m not saying give up. Keep loving him if that’s what you want…have to do. But you have to get out there. Put yourself out there. Just a little. Please. Have some fun. Otherwise, you’re doomed.” The last bit sounds like a third graders’ ghost story but I know the other part is right.
Instead I say, or whine, “But there’s no one elsssseeee.”
“Okay,” I hear the real Miranda coming back and I know that the considerate Miranda has just left the building. “You, Noe, are an idiot. Jake is not the only guy on the planet.” She leaps off my bed and put Snoop Dogg’s “I Want to Fuck You” on my iPod. Loudly. She starts swiveling her hips like a professional stripper. She motions for me to come dance with her and although I try not to, I can’t help but give in and try my hardest to forget about the disastrous conversation that happened just minutes ago. The whole situation to too complicated and I refuse to do complicated tonight.
At around 9:30 all the girls pile into our dorm room to pregame. It’s me Miranda, Nicole and Ginna, and my two closer friends Bailey and Keslee. Keslee, being the alcoholic that she is destined to be, brings two handles of vodka- one Smirnoff and what indistinguishable. Never good.
“Okay Kes, I’m not sure we need two handles between six girls,” I say, laughing at her.
“Hey you never know what will happen,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. None of us know what this means, so we all laugh.
Kesley is God’s gift to men. While Miranda is “hot” in every way, she is also a girly girl and probably too much so for most guys. Kesley, is sexy. She’s a normal height with curves to kill for and the best dark, wavy, long hair and mischievous, big, dark eyes. She’s very pretty and has amazing clothes that flatter in a way that’s just not fair. On top of this, and perhaps best of all, she can sit and talks with the boys about who knows what forever. And she can drink like the boys too. For all of these reasons she would be the perfect girlfriend but she doesn’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend because she doesn’t “do…that.” ‘That’ being commitment. So basically every guy on campus is obsessed with her.
(Note: If they are for some reason not obsessed with her, they are obsessed with Miranda)
Bailey is this adorable little red headed girl. When you look at her, you think she’s probably the sweetest, nicest, most innocent person on earth. Not so. Bailey is nice but also a little bit on the slutty side. I would never, ever but Bailey and innocent in the same sentence. Repeat, ever. She’s basically on the prowl twenty four-seven and can’t go five minute without talking about boys and sex. So, while Kesley is sexy, Bailey is sex. Kelsey is God’s gift to man, while Bailey is (basically) a man.
Miranda’s besties, Nicole and Ginna, are kind of the same person. Nicole is pretty in a generic way, with strawberry blond hair and freckles, while Ginna is basically the same, with ever-changing hair colors. This week Ginna’s hair is chestnut brown, which she says is her natural color. She says this every time.
“So, shots anyone?” Baileys says. She raises her eyebrows and looks at us like she trying to seduce us. Seems like she’s doing a pretty good job because we all shoot up our hands up in the air like school girls eager to please their teacher on the first day of school.
“Nice ladies. I like your style,” Miranda says as Bailey starts pouring shots. I can tell Miranda is scheming something. I can see the clocks turning in her head. I wait for her to speak, expecting something profound based on the look of concentration on her face. “Shar,” she finally says, like she has the just cured herpes.
“Yes?”
“Tonight,” another pauses, she loves to make her audience wait, “you are hooking up with someone.” She looks around the circle of girls, waiting for praise. I start cracking up and Miranda look pissed off.
“What? I was expected you to say something mildly realistic.” I snort.
“Alright, Noe,” she’s getting worked up and for a moment I’m scared. “You are really starting to bug me. Will you get over yourself already and admit that you are hot and might even be able to do better than Jake? If you’re meant to be with Jake, then you will be. Until then you should stop wasting your time and mine and stop moping and have fun because that’s probably what he’s doing. If he’s not then he should be too.”
I try to speak but can’t. My mouth is agape. This is the shit I need to hear but no one tells me. I need a kick in the nuts every once and a while.
“Maybe you didn’t realize Noe, but college is the one time in your life when you’re allowed to fuck up a little bit. You meet people, you have random hook ups. You fall for someone, you get screwed over by someone. I’m sorry but I’m so sick of sitting and watching you suffer and act like a wounded cat. I want you to be the fun, crazy, happy Noe you are when you’ve momentarily forgotten about Jake- all the time! Believe me, you are not the only person who doesn’t know what the hell is going on, either. I think some of us just hide it better. Work on it.” She finally breathes and waits for me to say something. I don’t, so she continues.
“Noe, do something for me?” I nod, entranced by her impromptu speech. “And…do something for yourself.”
We are all a bit taken aback by Miranda’s random words of wisdom, but they really do something to me. I feel like they have been absorbed into my body and are swiveling around, stirring, creating some kind of new Noe soup. Everyone sits in silence. I assume they are waiting for me to finally say something. I see out of the corner of my eye, Bailey trying to quietly take a shot. I don’t say anything for a couple more second and then I nod my head again, more assured this time. I pick up a shot glass with an orange cactus on it that says “Why is this cactus orange?” I really don’t know what the answer to that one is, but I do know what to do next. I raise the shot glass up in the air with a smile.
“To doing something for myself!” I say with more confidence than I’ve had in what seems like a long time. The other girls starting hooting and hollering, clammering to pick up their own shot glasses.
“To doing something for myself!” They all yell in unison.
And with that, the night begins.
Maybe, Noe